Page 39 of Pretty Spiteful

Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely, yes.

Before I can second guess myself, I jump off the bed and throw on some clothes. It’s Wednesday, so Hawk will be at the office. Great, that provides me with an excuse to be there. Now, I just need to figure out how to get him out of his office for five minutes so I can gain access to his computer.

I mull it over the entire taxi ride to Nocturnal Enterprises, and I still don’t have a plan in place by the time I step into Hawk’s office.

“Hey,” I greet, forcing my face into a casual smile.

I didn’t expect for this to feel so… wrong. I’m not one for giving a shit about morality.

It’s just because this is Hawk,I assure myself. What I’m doing might not berightper se, but if it reunites me with my family, then Hawk can’t be mad. He knows exactly what that feels like.

Glancing my way, his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Don’t you have class today?”

“Not ‘til later,” I answer, dropping into a chair opposite his desk.

Leaning back in his chair, he watches me. “What’s up?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Just thought I’d stop by and catch up.”

“Everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He cocks a brow, not buying my bullshit for a second.

“About the other night—”

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” I growl. The memory of Emilia’s lips wrapped around my dick is still too fresh. I swear I can still feel the perfect amount of suction she applied.

“Well, she might not be around for much longer, anyway. Looks like Kai’s got a lead. He should have it confirmed in a day or two.”

I’m not sure what I feel at hearing that news, but I grunt out, “Good. About fucking time she left us alone.”

Hawk’s astute gaze watches me far too closely before he gives a vague, “Uh huh.”

Frowning, I move the conversation on to safer territory before we can come to blows—again—over this girl. For someone who claims she wants to move on from the past, she’s sure creating quite the wedge between Hawk and me. “Will you be back at the frat on Thursday night?”

He hesitates before answering, my eyes narrowing in a glower at the fact that his answer isn’t an automatic yes.

He’s saved from responding by a knock on the door, and some guy pops his head in. “Mr. Davenport, sir, can I have a word?”

“Mr. Davenport?” I mouth, using my hand to hide my smirk from the guy.

Hawk scowls at me before shifting his attention to the guy at the door and donning a polite smile. “Sure.” Pushing out of his chair, he says to me, “I’ll be back in a sec,” before stepping toward the door.

I watch as he closes the door behind him, listening as their voices disappear down the corridor before hastily shoving out of my seat and rounding the desk.

Giving the mouse a shake, I thank my lucky stars that the computer hasn’t logged him out yet, and hurriedly search through his hard drive until I find a file labeledClients.

Seems like a good place to start.

Clients are arranged alphabetically by surname, so I quickly make it to the C’s. There’s a moment of panic when I realize there might be more than one Compton, and I have no idea what this guy’s first name is. It’s not like I keep up to date with the latest political drama. A donkey would have to become President for me to actually take notice.

Whooshing out a breath of relief when I find a file for only one Compton, I stick the USB drive I brought into the computer and quickly copy over the file. My leg bounces as the bar takes its sweet fucking time filling up, notifying me of its progress. It takes forever before it jumps forward a smidge, and the entire time all I can do is glance back and forth between the computer screen and the door, straining for the sound of Hawk’s returning footsteps.

Hurry up!I silently demand.Come on! Hurry the fuck up!

The second a box pops up on the screen telling me the transfer is complete, I yank the device out and scurry around the table.

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