Page 156 of Restless Hawke

“I don’t know.” Coen glances back at Kennedy and Cass, who seem to be in a heated discussion with one of the members of the crew about something on the sign. “I thought by now, he surely would’ve asked me to play in one of his tournaments.”

Me too.

We’ve managed to track down at least two of the casinos in his control, and they’ve both hosted games since we last met with him, yet he never contacted Coen—or me.

None of it makes sense.

He was so thrilled to have Coen by the balls, to be able to control a Hawke so thoroughly. Yet, he hasn’t used that advantage.

He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “He probably hasn’t called because he doesn’t trust me anymore. Not after what happened.”

It feels like we have the same conversation every couple of weeks.

We go days and days pretending like it’s normal to have Bishop, Saint, or one of the other armed guards following us around day after day, from the moment we step out of our condo until the moment we step back inside it.

But it isn’t.

It’s far from it.

“Should I call him?”

“What?” He closes the distance between us, gently pinning me back against the car. “Why would you even suggest anything like that?”

I sigh.

“Do youmisshim?”

The accusation in his question makes me flinch.

He grips my chin and lifts my face, so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Do you?”

I can’t lie to Coen.

I promised I never would again, and I haven’t, not since that night I came clean. “I do, a little bit. I know you don’t understand it because you don’t know him the same way I do. He’s not the same man to you, but he’s still my father. If yours just disappeared out of your life, how would you feel?”

As soon as I say the words, I wish I could take them back.

That darkness that always seems to haunt him whenever his father’s injuries come up crosses his eyes again.

“I’m sorry, Coen. I didn’t mean?—”

He sighs. “I know you didn’t.”

My father was responsible for what happened to his.

At the time it occurred, I didn’t know about the shooting at the Grind. I didn’t know anything except that the Hawkes were a family Dad wanted to take down because of what happened to his brother, because he wanted control of all of New Orleans and they seemed to be standing in the way, with too much leverage, too much power.

But now I know them.

All thirty-plus.

Even the little one on the way, growing in Wren’s belly, who has already started to kick every time I do a class and talk to her, almost like he recognizes my voice already.

These people have become my family as much as Dad ever was, but it doesn’t mean I can just forget him or the way I feel about him.

“Don’t apologize for loving your father, Allegra.” He releases his grip on me to run his hand through his hair and glance back at Bishop, who’s trying to break up the argument. “Don’t call him, please. Let sleeping dogs lie, all right? He’ll come up for air eventually. Gabe, Saint, and Luca have put everything they have into monitoring all the sources across the Gulf Coast who are looking for him. But he’s not in town. He’s not here. So, we should count our blessings.”

“Until we run out of them.”