Page 89 of Songbird: Black Kite
“Don’t get smart,” Charlie said, frowning. “It’s in places like this that you let your guard down, and that’s when shit goes sideways. Just keep a low profile and try not to draw any attention.” Reaching across the console, Charlie opened the glove box and retrieved the baseball hat I’d stuffed in there after we’d left the airport and tossed it in my lap. “Let’s go then, hotshot.”
Shoving the hat down over my hair, I donned my sunglasses and followed Charlie up to the porch, where he was shaking hands with an older woman.
“You’re a bit early for the summer season, aren’t you?” she asked as I approached, pulling out a key ring and handing it to Charlie. “This one’s for the garage out back, by the way.”
“We’re in town on business,” Charlie replied vaguely, pocketing the keys and following her inside.
I had to admit, the place was actually pretty dope. It was decked out in a black and white color scheme, but instead of looking like an old school diner, it was really classy. The bold decor was paired with natural wood floors and accents, and gave the whole thing a really upscale vibe that I was digging.
It was honestly very rock and roll.
“Nice place,” I said offhandedly, and the old woman beamed.
“My granddaughter designed it. After I moved in with my daughter a few years ago, I was going to put the place up for sale. But my Sabrina thought I should give it a chance as a rental. She said that if I let her dress the place up a bit, she could make it so that I hardly had to dip into my retirement money.”
She continued talking to Charlie, and I tuned them both out, making my way down the hall and finding the bedroom I wanted to claim. It had the same color pattern, with a natural wood headboard on the king-sized bed and a patterned area rug on the floor. It was small, about the size of a standard hotel room, but it was cool, and it would serve me just fine for as long as I needed.
Because I had no fuckin’ idea when the hell I’d be heading back to L.A., but I knew I couldn’t leave town without at least trying to get to know my girls.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, my idle gaze on the framed photos on the wall that showed lakes and trees—photos that were probably taken somewhere on the highway we’d just driven, judging by the scenery—when Charlie knocked on the frame of the open door.
“Alright, man. Maude said the place is ours for a month. She’ll come by once a week to check on shit, but otherwise, we’re on our own. So tell me,” he said, hands on his hips. “What’s your plan?”
Blowing out a breath, I shook my head.
“I wish I fuckin’ knew.”
Chapter fifty-three
Hawk
Present
Afterhoursofdebate,my big plan boiled down to just walking up and knocking on the door.
I had considered a few options, like showing up at her work, or waiting for her by her car, but all of those felt a bit creepy. And while showing up unannounced was also objectively still creepy, Charlie helpfully reminded me that at least this way, if she had some sort of freak out, she could have it in the privacy of her own home.
Standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the house, I felt myself smile at how it looked. It was a cute place; a simple rectangle with gray siding and a tidy little porch. It was what my mother would have called charming, and anxiety swirled in my gut again at the thought that my presence here could bring nothing but trouble.
Swallowing down my nerves, I ran my hands through my hair, feeling like I was about to explode. Anything could happen in the next five minutes. I could go up there and Wren could tell me to fuck off. She could slam the door in my face, call the cops. Hell, she could fuckin’ shoot me if she felt the urge.
As much as I felt a connection to her through her letters and my ever-increasing memories of the night we’d spent together, the truth was that, in reality, I didn’t know Wren at all.
And that scared the shit outta me.
Blowing out a breath, I dropped my hand to the bracelet, rubbing the beads one more time out of habit, before starting up the long, narrow sidewalk. My motorcycle boots were heavy on the wooden stairs as I climbed up to the door and raised my fist, knocking heavily before I could talk myself out of it.
While I waited, I glanced back over my shoulder, seeing that Charlie was right where I’d left him, leaning up against the side of the Escalade, dressed in his suit and looking intense. Ostensibly, he was there for my protection, but at the moment, it felt as though he was there to keep me from running away.
I was still considering if that was a viable option when I heard the deadbolt click over and the door open. Turning around, I came face to face with the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
My daughter, Cooper.
She glanced at me, a bored look on her face as she held the door open with one hand, her phone with the other.
I couldn’t talk—I couldn’t even fucking breathe—as I looked at her, drinking her in from top to bottom.
She was tall; I didn’t know much about teenagers, but I figured she had to be one of the taller ones in her grade or whatever. Her hair was long and dark, an in-between color that favored me but was shot through with coppery highlights that spoke of her mother’s golden blonde. It hung straight and thick down her back, with no sign of the waves that I constantly fought to tame in my own hair. Her dark eyebrows were scrunched together, drawn low over her bright blue eyes. The eyes that I’d stared at in the photos I’d had of her.
