Page 139 of Songbird: Black Kite
“Shelter,” Gavin breathed the name of the song reverently. “Those lyrics were—shit, Hawk. She’s a poet.”
That was high praise from Gavin, who tended to be a bit cynical about nearly everything.
Jaded motherfucker.
“Did she write that in the few days you were there?” Alex asked, and I shook my head.
“Nah, guys. She wrote that song more than fifteen years ago.”
Thatgot their attention.
“Dude, but that’s the same melody. Like, theexactsame melody we use inHaunted.”
“That’s because I got it from her. She played that song for me the night we met.”
“And you didn’t think to mention that?” Gavin asked dryly.
“Honestly...” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to find the words to explain. “Until I saw that video, I wasn’t even positive that it was her I’d gotten the music from. It had just always been there, in the back of my mind, like a ghost.” Closing my eyes, I pictured the dream I’d been having for so long, the one I could never seem to shake.
In it, I had been sitting with a woman between my legs, both our arms wrapped around a guitar, those chords floating around us. The dream, and the girl in it, had been haunting me for most of my life. It was why I’d written the lyrics I had it, because that was exactly what I had been.
Haunted by the ghost of Wren, my perfect Bird.
Only now, she was real, and I was determined to keep her.
I just hoped she felt the same.
Chapter seventy-nine
Wren
Present
“Imaybealittle late getting home from work tonight,” I said to Cooper where she sat, ignoring me in the passenger seat of our car, her dark hair blowing in the gentle breeze through the open windows. “If you want, I can swing by the diner and grab us some veggie burgers on the way.”
Arms crossed, head turned, Cooper didn’t respond, her demeanor as cold as ice.
She’d been that way all week, and it was killing me.
When she and Jillian had woken up the morning after their scare, Cooper had been devastated to learn that Hawk had left town in the middle of the night. I’d done my best to explain that he’d been called back to California for business, and that he’d promised to call, but that hadn’t helped an ounce.
“We could watch a movie,” I cajoled, desperate for her to speak to me. “Any one you want. Even a scary one!”
“Just stop,” Cooper finally said, turning to face me as I pulled to a stop in front of the school. “Quit trying to make it better. You’re only making it worse.”
“Please, Coop. I don’t know what else I can tell you. He had to work.”
“He would have said something to me. Said goodbye.” Staring into those beautiful blue eyes, watching as they once again filled with tears, my heart broke for my girl.
I knew this would happen. From the very first moment I’d opened that door and saw Hawk standing there, I’d known that this would be the inevitable outcome of him showing up in our lives. I tried to be careful—for both me and Cooper—tried to protect us from this very thing, but I’d been just as blinded by him as she was. Hawk had rolled into our lives, showered us with affection and gifts and sweet words, and then he’d turned right around and gone back to his life, leaving both of us crushed and bleeding in his wake.
“Cooper, Hawk is a very busy guy. I’m sure if you just give him some time to get whatever it is he is working on finished, he’ll reach out. Maybe come back for a visit, too.”
“I don’t want him to visit,” she lamented, her tears spilling over, leaving twin streaks of pain on her face. “I want him tostay!”
“Coop,” I started, shocked at the vehemence of her words. I’d known she was mad about him leaving, but this was more than that.
Cooper was hurting, and I didn’t know how to help her.
