Page 57 of Witness Protection

“We’ll do something special.” He poured his drink.

“Why are you limping? You’re hurt.”

Hawk leaned against the bar and took a swig, looking at her as he lowered the glass. “I was shot. It’s not the first time. Nothing serious.”

“Where?”

“My leg. My side.”

She jumped to her feet and rushed over to him. “Because of me.” Her hands were on him, her little fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. He set his glass down and stilled her hands.

“Sophia, I’d die for you. I wouldn’t think twice.”

She cupped his face.

“I love you, Hawk. I’ll always love you.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Sophia alone was capable of toying with his emotions. “I love you, too.”

“What kind of love?”

He slipped around her. “Let’s not do this. It’s late. I’m going to jump in the shower quick, and then you can have the bedroom.”

What was he supposed to say?

He’d been in love with her for years, keeping his real feelings bottled up because her father would never approve of him pursing her. Now he wasn’t sure which path to take. If he told her he was madly in love with her, there was no turning back. She needed a stable person in her life right now, and adding romance would only complicate things. She may not even be thinking straight, just looking for love because of her grief.

He tugged off his t-shirt in the bathroom, tossing it on the floor. Then he peeled away the bandage on his side. His wound had been healing for nearly a week, but still had a long way to go. Luckily it had been one of his smallest tattoos. He’d put some antibiotic ointment on after his shower and let it air out overnight.

Once in the shower, the warm water rushing over his body, he soaped up and thought of Sophia. He was a bastard for thinking about sex when she was in such turmoil. Hawk ran his hand over his hard length, stroking his cock, imagining Sophia’s tight little virgin pussy. She was just outside in the living room, so vulnerable, so damn beautiful. He pumped his hand faster, bracing the other on the tiles. If he didn’t relieve himself, he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool around her. She was too tempting, always teasing, even if she didn’t realize it.

She knocked on the bathroom door, startling him.

“Just a minute,” he called out.

He kept jerking off, the pressure rising, his balls pulling up tight. Hawk groaned as he came, the relief instantaneous. He stayed under the water for a minute, his breath normalizing.

Hawk towel dried, then wrapped it around his waist.

He cracked open the bathroom door. “Sophia?”

She pushed her way inside, despite his body blocking the way. “Let me see,” she said. She trapped him against the counter, her eyes on the gnarly wound with the unsightly staples. “Hawk…”

“It looks worse than it is, honestly.”

She ran the tips of her fingers around the area. The room was humid and smelled like Irish Spring. “The tattoo my dad gave you. It was right here.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You said it was special.”

“It was.” Past tense.

He moved around her to the bedroom, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers and slipping them on under the towel. He rummaged through the drawers for a pair of joggers, but she wouldn’t leave him alone. She wasn’t the only victim here. Her father had done a real fucking number on him, and he’d only just discovered it.

“That doesn’t look like a gunshot wound. I’ve seen so many.”

He shrugged, stepping into his joggers, trying his damnedest to avoid her. “Look, I was lucky to get out of there alive. Okay? Let’s move on.”

“You should see a doctor.”

Hawk threw up his arms. “It’s fine!”

---