CHAPTER 9
RHIANNON
I feel like we’re balanced on a precipice above a vast and dark unknown.
Hope urges me to jump. But fear tells me to retreat.
What if the look in Hawk’s eyes is the answer I’ve wished for all along?
But.
What if he’s holding my hand simply as a friend, despite the tender stroke of his thumb across my palm?
What if the desperation in his handsome features doesn’t mean what I think it might?
I don’t know if I can take the disappointment on top of everything else.
So it’s with trepidation and a pounding heart that I ask, “What are you sorry for?”
Hawk’s shoulders hunch in and his head ducks down, making him look more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him. His fingers convulse around my hand. “Leaving.” Pain turns his gaze a deep evergreen. “I should never have left.”
Attempting to squash the expanding bubble of hope in my chest, I reply, “You apologized about last night already. And it wasn’t a big deal. You had plans to visit Rafe before all this happened. So it’s understandable that you’d want to follow through.”
He grimaces. “No. Not that.” A pause, and his frown lines grow deeper. “I didn’t have to go. I could have stayed. But it was because… Shit.”
His normally confident demeanor shifts to an uncertain one. Glancing over his shoulder, he eyes the empty doorway before his gaze returns to me. “Shit,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t have just left like that. In the middle of the night. Like a damn coward. And then?—”
I jerk in shock. “You’re not a coward. You’re the furthest thing from it.” I can’t understand why he’d even say that. Not Hawk, who was always the one volunteering to go first during dangerous reconnaissance, and on several occasions, he even threw himself in front of me during gunfire, risking his own life.
“But I am. After last night, what I said to you. I should have stayed. Made it right. But I ran off instead of facing my mistake. And then—” He swallows hard. “You were shot , Rhi. You could have died.”
“You couldn’t have stopped that even if you were here. What would you have done? Run along with me and somehow sensed a sniper five hundred yards outside the property?”
“I would have been with you. I should have been. I could have been right there, helping you. Making sure you didn’t… You could have bled out. Could have?—”
Hawk’s voice cracks, just as it did only minutes before. “I couldn’t bear it, Rhi. If something happened to you. I thought you were safe. I thought staying away was better for you. But I can’t. I can’t anymore. It’s too fucking hard.”
My breath catches. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I shouldn’t have gone to Alaska. Shouldn’t have run like the chickenshit I was. But I felt so damn guilty. It was eating me up inside.”
I shift on the bed, using my injured arm to support myself, loath to break the connection of Hawk’s hand wrapped around mine. But I instantly regret it as pain flares bright and hot from my newly-stitched injury. Unable to hide my wince, I try to disguise it as a smile, but it’s clear from the concern on Hawk’s face I didn’t do a very good job.
Quickly, I ask, “Why would you feel guilty?”
But Hawk doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he slides his arm behind my back and tries to lower me back to the bed. “Be careful,” he gently scolds as his brows pull into a worried V. “You could tear the stitches. Hurt yourself even more.”
“I’m fine.” Part of me wants to insist on sitting back up myself, but it feels so nice to have his arm around me, I can’t make the words come out.
“Rhi, stop saying that. You’re not fine. You have… Shit. Twenty-two damn stitches now. That’s not okay.”
My innate stubbornness that only became stronger in the Army comes surging forward, and I lift my chin as I retort, “You had thirty stitches that time in Iran. All in one spot. And you still completed the op. I hardly think sitting up is going to kill me.”
But I regret my statement a moment later, when I see Hawk’s pained expression.
“Please,” he says, “don’t talk about that. Not now.”
“Okay, okay.” I force a little smile. “No more talk about dying. But I still don’t understand?—”
“Are you sure the doctor cleaned the wound properly?” he interrupts as he peers at my bandaged arm. “Did they give you all the appropriate shots? Tetanus? Antibiotics? Did anyone take blood samples? You never know if there could have been—” Abruptly, his mouth clamps shut.
“What?”
A rare flush colors Hawk’s cheeks. “It’s nothing. I can ask the doctor.”
“Ask the doctor?” I look at him in confusion. “What are you going to ask the doctor? And how could you? It’s not like you’re family.”
The flush deepens. “Um.”
I arch my eyebrows at him. “Hawk? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I may have told the nurse that I was your fiancé,” he mumbles. “So she’d tell me where you were.”
“My fiancé?”
I’m not expecting the burst of joy in my heart at the simple sound of the word.
But it’s crazy. Beyond crazy. Even at our closest, Hawk and I were only friends.
Although…
There was that look in his eyes when he came into the room. And then the panic on his face in the parking garage. The way he touched me so tenderly.
And what of Jade’s claim? That Hawk’s reaction last night wasn’t anger, but jealousy? Could it really be possible?
But then why was he gone for so long? Right after leaving the Army, I could understand. We were both adjusting to civilian life again, trying to find jobs and places to live. But after we were settled, I thought we might visit. Hang out together, like we used to. Instead, I had to accept a new life without Hawk in it.
“Hawk.” I look up at him, noticing the brush of dark stubble on his jaw and the purplish marks beneath his eyes. His arm is still looped around my back, bringing his face barely a foot from mine. Close enough to catch a whiff of his ubiquitous soap mixed with the faint scent of musky sweat.
My mind fractures for a second, separating from the situation—hospital, shot, someone out there trying to kill me—as I think about just how sexy he is. I don’t care that his clothes are rumpled and his hair is all messy, or that he hasn’t shaved in days. I don’t even care that he’s not shower-fresh. There’s just something about him that calls to me.
It’s more than his height and muscles. And it’s more than his striking features. It’s more than the way he holds himself with absolute confidence, a demeanor that has drawn more admiring women than I’d like to count.
It’s just Hawk. The best friend I’ve ever had. The man who knew me better than anyone. And the man I used to dream about, wishing things could be different between us.
Who am I kidding?
I still dream about him. I think I always will.
Even if this is just another brief interlude and soon Hawk will be only a memory again, I don’t think I’ll ever let go of him.
I don’t think I could, even if I want to.
“Rhi?” Hawk leans closer still. Worry etches between his eyes and brackets his mouth. “Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” He touches his fingers to my forehead. “You feel a little warm. Maybe you have a fever.”
“I don’t have a fever.”
“You don’t know that.” Standing straight again, he glances around the room before his gaze lands on the call button beside the bed. “Maybe I should get the doctor in here. It’s possible you’re getting an infection. Or?—”
“Hawk,” I repeat patiently. “There’s no way I have a fever already. And I don’t feel hot. Or chilled. Or anything like that. I’m okay.”
He looks unconvinced. “When’s the last time you were examined? And what’s this I hear about you being discharged? You should be in the hospital for another day, at least. Maybe two days. Just to be safe.”
“Hawk.” This time I firm my voice. I catch his hand and give it a little squeeze. “I’m really okay.”
Well. My arm has definitely felt better. But considering what could have happened just a few hours ago, I can’t complain.
For the first time since it happened, the reality of it hits me.
I could have died.
For the second time in less than a week.
And this time, I could have bled out in the woods, completely alone. I never would have gotten to meet Xavier and Lucy’s baby. Never would have seen Declan and Dove grow up. Never would have found out if Sarah and Dante start a family, or if Erik finally finds the woman who’s perfect for him.
I never would have seen Hawk again.
That’s the most painful part.
The part that feels like a blade flaying my heart.
Never seeing Hawk again. Never telling him how sorry I truly am.
Never getting up the courage to tell him how I really feel.
Those damn tears spring to my eyes again.
And Hawk, true to his name, spots them immediately.
He perches on the edge of my bed, worry all over his face. “You’re in pain. I knew it. Did you take anything they offered you? Codeine? Tylenol, at least?” Then he brushes my cheek and his finger comes away wet. “You’re scaring me, Rhi. Please tell me what I can do.”
I could tell him I’m fine. That I turned down the painkillers so I could be clearheaded when the police came, but maybe a few Tylenol wouldn’t be unwelcome. I could say a dozen safe things that won’t leave my heart vulnerable again.
But instead, I ask, “Why did you tell the nurse you’re my fiancé? And why—” I take a deep breath before continuing, “Why did you come here so quickly? When Xavier told you I was safe?”
There’s a long pause; long enough that I start to think he might not answer.
Then he says, “I thought it was terrifying, seeing you hurt in the parking garage. But getting that call, hearing you were shot. It was like my world was collapsing around me. You were hurt. And I wasn’t there.”
“But—”
He catches my hand, gently enfolding it between his. Hazel eyes meet mine, filled with an emotion much deeper than friendship. “I know I fucked up, Rhi. So damn many times. I thought… it was better to stay away. I hated myself for failing you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. Hawk never failed me. Did he hurt me by pulling away? Yes. But failed? No.
“Hawk. I don’t understand.”
“I know.” His thumb brushes across my palm again. “And it’s not the right time. I know that. Not with you in the hospital. And hurt. It would be selfish of me to put myself first again.”
“What?” I lean forward, this time successfully hiding my wince of pain. “Are you leaving again? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No.” It’s quick. Adamant. “No. I’m not. I was such an asshole, Rhi. I shouldn’t have left. I was so jealous of Ace. Seeing you talking to him, and I?—”
“There’s nothing with Ace.” My heart jumps. “But why were you jealous? I didn’t think you cared who I dated.”
Regret darkens his gaze. “I know you didn’t think I cared. Because I never let you know. Not in the Army. And not after. I never… Shit.”
All at once, it’s hard to breathe. “What?”
As if in a scene from one of my unfulfilled fantasies, Hawk holds my gaze as he says roughly, “I know I fucked up. And I don’t deserve you. But I realized if I didn’t tell you, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”
In a whisper, I ask, “Tell me what?”
“That it’s always been you, Rhi. Since the day we met. Maybe you don’t feel the same. And that’s okay. But I have to say it. I’ve never felt like this about anyone else. And I wish more than anything that you’ll give me another chance.”
“It’s always been me?”
“Yes.” That same desperate look comes back into his eyes again. “Always. And I know we have lots to talk about, just not in the hospital. But would you be willing to let me stay? To talk this through?”
All the sounds of the hospital—the buzz of voices in the hallway, the intercom crackling, a distant alarm sounding—fade into unimportance as I find myself on the edge of the precipice again. “You want to stay?”
“If you’ll let me. If you don’t want me at the ranch, I’ll sleep outside, just to make sure you’re safe. And even if you only care about me as a friend, I’d still like to talk when you’re feeling better. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“I don’t.”
Hawk flinches. His hands drop from mine. In a defeated tone, he says, “Oh. Okay. I’ll see about getting a tent. Unless you?—”
“No.” My pulse jumps to double speed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean, then?”
“I mean—” I pause as I prepare to share something I’ve kept to myself for years. “I don’t care about you only as a friend. It’s only been you, too, Hawk. Ever since we met. And I… I’d really like it if you’d stay.”
On an exhale, his eyes close for a second. When they reopen, relief has replaced the worry and fear. A small smile lifts his lips as he takes my hand again. “I would really like that, too.”