Page 40

CHAPTER 40

Billie

F ord’s still sleeping peacefully a few hours later. I only ever stayed here for the full night once when I was drunk and brought Felix back, but I wonder, had I stayed any of the other nights, maybe I would’ve found enjoyment in watching this killer sleep peacefully. He’s beautiful, and I see the vulnerability in him now like it’s something I have to protect.

I manage to crawl out of his arms, which have had me in a stranglehold, wanting to keep me close. I take in his sleeping form, noting the new tattoo I inked on him, smiling at the crooked lines of the heart. I guess it matches mine, kind of like our feelings toward one another.

I quietly make my way to the door. When I pull it open, I see Hawke on the other side. I quickly step into the hall and shut the door behind me. Hawke stares at me, his usual smile absent. Instead, he looks mad.

This is so different from the Hawke I know. It’s like getting a glimpse of the killer he really is.

I step away from the door in case he wants to say something. I don’t want him to wake Ford as I’m sneaking out.

I laid awake next to Ford for at least an hour, trying to decide what I’m going to do about the conversation we had. He’s ready to take the leap, and I think I am too, but there’s still a part of me that remains terrified of what truly falling means, even if I’m already there.

Hawke points down the hall, indicating that I follow him. Fuck. He leads me to the kitchen, and I pick up Felix, using him to soothe me because I know this conversation isn’t going to be a smooth one.

“I would say I’m surprised to find you here, but I’m not,” Hawke says, crossing his arms. I’ve never been afraid of Hawke, not that he isn’t scary or intimidating—he’s both of those things. To me, he’s always been a family friend who eats everything in the house. But the man currently standing in front of me doesn’t look like the man I know. “I thought you two had stopped after I caught you at Bentley’s birthday party.”

“We did…for a bit,” I say quietly, as if being scolded.

He tsks, and it makes me bristle. Who is he to judge who we sleep with? He’ll fuck anything that moves.

As if reading my angry expression, he says, “My brother may be a badass killer, but I still look out for him, and I will do anything for him. He is my twin, after all. And I fucking knew something was up with him; I just couldn’t put my finger on it. He dove in like he would with any other addiction. I don’t think you realize how much your back and forth impacts him.”

“I didn’t know about his addictions and vices until recently.”

Hawke doesn’t seem surprised that I know, or he wouldn’t have spoken about it so openly.

“I was fucking there for all of it, and I can’t watch him relapse and be hurt again.”

“I tried to walk away,” I grit.

“You did a pretty shitty job of it if you ask me.”

I’m not even sure what to say to that. Is he angry at me? Is he angry at his brother?

He steps back and nods at the door. “I like you, little tornado, but I don’t like you for my brother.”

“I—”

“You’re too normal for him. While you may come from the same world we do, you’re a sheltered princess. The moment Dutton finds out about you two, he’ll try to kill Ford. And then I’ll get involved, and all that Ford’s built over the last few years will be ruined. He’s loyal to Eli as much as I am. You complicate that. I get it. You’ve been shielded for most of your life and wanted to have some fun. But my brother is not to be used by you anymore. Find someone else.”

I’m taken aback by what he’s saying. Why the fuck does he assume I’m the one doing the hurting? Why does it all have to come crumbling down the moment Ford and I finally find peace with the situation?

But were you ever all in? A tiny voice in the back of my head asks.

Yes.

So why haven’t you taken the plunge?

I swallow hard, the internal fight ripping me apart.

What is holding me back?

Hawke just looks at me as if he’s waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say in this situation. I know everything he said is valid, and he has a right to kick me out. But why does it feel like every time Ford and I take a step forward, we’re shoved back onto our asses by reality?

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I bite out, setting Felix down.

“Maybe. But at least I’m willing to fight for my brother.”

I snap, rage and fury blurring my vision as tears begin to stream down my cheeks. How fucking dare he?

But his knowing expression crumbles my resolve because how have I fought for Ford? I’ve only fought against him. Hawke’s penetrating glare unravels me like he sees how weak I truly am, and I can’t stand it. It’s like he’s heard all of my inner thoughts and doubts.

Keeping Ford a secret never had anything to do with Dutton.

I was running away all this time from the one thing I wanted. Never willing to take the leap, too scared of how it might break me.

Hawke gave me the reminder that it’s not just my feelings on the line. I might’ve convinced myself Ford was incapable of having feelings or emotions, but I know better than that. If anything, he has more reason to want someone to love him, considering everything he’s been through. And I’m still only thinking of myself.

I don’t deserve this , I realize with startling clarity, shocked by the impact.

Ford is willing to bring all of our secrets to the light and risk everything he’s built for me.

And the intensity of that terrifies me. I know in my gut I want to be with him. But what if I’m wrong about us? What if it implodes, and I don’t know how to pick up the pieces?

Love isn’t what I thought it’d be.

I turn and head for the door. He says nothing else, but I can feel his gaze until I finally shut the door behind me.

A cab conveniently drives around the corner, and I hail it down. I get into the back seat and breathe in and out, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Rough morning?” the woman asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I chuckle weakly. “Something like that.”

Silence fills the car as she awkwardly twists and offers me a coffee. “I got a spare coffee for free this morning. I was going to throw it out, but it looks like you need it. Sometimes I think everything happens for a reason, you know?”

“Thank you.” I awkwardly laugh at the irony as I take the cup from her. Because maybe that’s exactly what I need—a boost of coffee to figure out what the fuck I’m doing. I take a sip and swirl it in my mouth. Shit, this really has a kick to it. “Does this have a syrup in it?” I ask, staring at the cup.

The woman shrugs. “I’m not sure. It’s not supposed to taste sweet.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as a sudden drowsiness comes over me.

“Poison, that is,” the woman says, looking over her shoulder with a smile. “Poison’s not often sweet.”