18. Ivy #2
“Oh, I’m well aware of your tracking and hacking abilities, lover. Just because you try to keep some of it a secret doesn’t mean I don’t know.” He winks. “Now, go back to sleep.”
“I should probably go home.” Despite how much I’ve slept, I want to close my eyes again, willing this all to be over.
I might’ve been saved, but how many other women hadn’t been?
And the unknown, that blank space in my memory, haunts me.
Because anything could’ve happened. I’ve always lived so freely, and this weekend has shaken me to my core as if momentarily clipping my wings.
“Sleep now, woman.” He reaches for me, and I let him pull me close, my hands resting on his chest as he wraps his arms around me.
I don’t even want to fight him. Instead, I embrace the comfort he offers.
For once, I’m grateful Hawke is able to speak in a language I understand well.
A language spoken with his body. Because right now…
this… it gives me all the comfort I want.
I nuzzle into his warmth, surrounded by the smell of his cologne.
My mind begins to circle with the what-ifs, and every time I’m swept away by them, I focus on him again, bringing me back to the now.
To the security of being safe in his arms. I can tell when he starts drifting off because his arms turn into dead weight, loosening enough that his hand drops to my hip.
He might be an asshole, but I will forever be grateful to Hawke for this moment. I close my eyes and try to follow his lead, not yet entirely ready to face this day or the new reality, knowing already that it’s changed me. I’m not sure if it’s for the better or the worse.
When I wake up, he’s gone. I wipe my eyes, a sudden sense of loneliness overtaking me at his empty spot. I grab my phone from the side table, trying to adjust my eyes to the bright screen. He has blackout curtains, so it’s a surprise when I realize it’s midday already.
I didn’t hear him leave, but then again, I slept like the dead. I feel even better than before. I’ve never slept this much in my life. I sit up and find my outfit washed and folded at the end of the bed. I have no intention of wearing that dress again. The heels, however, I’ll keep.
I pick them up from the floor, but still take the dress and underwear with every intention of burning them.
I don’t ever want to think of that night again.
Still wearing his shirt, I put on my heels.
It might not be the most stylish thing, but I’m confident in pulling off almost anything. And I just need to get home.
I look over my shoulder to the camera that I know is hidden there and give it a small wave before I leave the bedroom.
Downstairs, on the kitchen counter, I find my purse.
I take that as well as I check my phone.
I have a missed call from Billie, a text from Hope, and two messages from my mother about dinner tonight.
As I go to call a cab, Hawke’s name appears with a photo attachment. I burst into laughter at his selected image. It’s a mirror selfie of him shirtless, with that killer playboy smile. Fucking poser.
I bet he took that this morning and saved it as his lock screen for whenever he calls.
“You added a photo to your name?” I say in way of a greeting.
“I did. So you don’t have to check on me through the cameras when you want to see me. Now you can just look at me on your phone. I saved plenty more for you as well. You’re welcome.”
“You’re weird.”
“You have a car out front waiting. I’m on a job, but I will come by when I’m done to see how you’re doing.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I’m quick to say.
Whatever twilight zone Hawke and I have been in, I know the moment I walk out his front door, we’ll return to how we’ve always been.
We have to. Right? “I’m okay, Hawke.” I wish I knew if that were true.
“Besides, I have dinner with my parents tonight.”
“Good, Alina loves me,” he gushes. It’s true, she does. She fusses over him, which we all know he loves.
“Bye, Hawke,” I say, walking out to the car that’s waiting for me.
The driver is already holding the door open.
I greet him and then slide into the back seat.
I open my photo gallery and flick through the twenty-two new images taken at eight this morning.
All of them of Hawke in different positions.
In every single one of them, he’s entirely naked.
I can’t help but snort as a bubble of life flutters through me, shifting the heavy weight on my chest. This arrogant asshole really doesn’t care that he just left nudes on my phone that I could use against him.
He knows I could easily share them with the world.
Then again, he’d probably love all the attention he’d get from them.
Because he truly does look incredible. I tilt my head to the side.
I’m not one to enjoy dick pics, but I’ll make an exception for this killer.
Not that I’d ever admit that to him. I place my phone in my lap, impressed he didn’t save one of them as a lock screen.
I look out the window, releasing a steady breath. Right. Time to move on. I try not to let things get me down for too long, but even as I try to push out from the dark cloud now hanging over me, I know something isn’t entirely resolved yet. And it fucking sucks.