27. Ivy
Ivy
T he next evening, news has already broken out about Elizabeth’s and Makayla’s deaths in a suspicious fire that is being investigated.
Only her father will know the extent of it all, and I feel dirty for sending him that video, but had I not, suspicions might’ve arisen about me, and that’s precisely what we don’t want right now.
Hawke’s thumbs drum against the steering wheel cheerfully, but the dark circles under his eyes suggest he’s not sleeping much.
When I spoke to Billie only a few days ago, she said Ford hasn’t been coming home much at all, which tells me that something big is happening in their world as well.
I want to ask Hawke about it, but I know he won’t betray Eli’s trust. I almost feel selfish for dragging him into this.
Even after he came over last night and I told him I’d handle it on my own, he promised he’d see it through with me to the end.
We’re about to meet with Hope and her detective, Braxton, at an Italian restaurant. “Play nice with the detective,” I warn.
Braxton and Hawke never get along, but if I’m asking Braxton for a favor, I need Hawke to be on his best behavior.
Hawke looks at me, baffled, before parking the car, and the two of us climb out.
“I’m always nice. Besides, he’s a dick. Also, why do you still call him ‘detective’?”
I smirk. “Because I don’t give guys a nickname unless I know they’re going to be sticking around. Plus, I love pissing everyone off by reminding them that he’s a detective.” It’s highly amusing.
He stops dead in his tracks. “What’s my nickname?”
I look over my shoulder and shrug. “I don’t know. You’ve just always been Hawke.”
“Not even Hawke the Great?”
“Definitely not Hawke the Great. Oh, wait. There is something else I call you…” I tap my chin thoughtfully, and he leans in with anticipation. “Asshole. Or arrogant prick. I learned that one from my mother.”
His expression drops as Hope greets us at the entrance. I give her a hug, and Hawke does the same, holding her so tightly her feet no longer touch the ground.
“Too much,” she says as she taps him on the shoulder. “Braxton is inside getting us a table. I just wanted to see how you were first.”
I give Hawke a pointed look. He really can’t keep anything a secret.
“What? We were coming here to discuss your friend’s death anyway, so it made sense that I gave them that information first.”
I roll my eyes as I walk alongside Hope, with Hawke following us like a bodyguard.
It never ceases to amaze me the reactions we get when out in public with this man.
Men look at him in horror, and most women salivate as if he’s some deadly god.
He looks so out of place in these settings, and his size is imposing, not to mention his monstrous laugh.
When Braxton spots us, he stands. He takes one step toward me, and Hawke’s voice slices over my shoulder. “Don’t you dare hug her.”
Hope is smirking as she moves to Braxton’s side, and I curse under my breath at Hawke. “I said play nice.”
“Yeah, Hawke, play nice,” Braxton says with a cocky smile. Oh fuck, this was a bad idea. I forgot how much these two hate each other.
“Is that a threat?” Hawke’s quick to ask.
“Enough. You both have to be real dicks to ruin pasta for anyone. Sit,” I say, pointing at a chair for Hawke to sit in.
He grumbles his complaint, but does exactly as he’s told. Hope giggles as she sits beside Braxton. The two men stare at one another, Braxton seemingly smug as he takes a swig of his beer.
“I’m sorry to hear about your friend. The one on the news,” Braxton begins. I give Hawke a pointed look. I’m unsure how much he’s told him. Hawke’s gaze suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.
“Thank you. I actually might need your help with something related to that. An opportunity for you to play hero,” I suggest as the waitress comes over and offers us drinks. I ask for water, and can see Hope’s surprise at that, but her jaw drops when Hawke asks for the same.
“I’m always interested in maintaining a good reputation,” Braxton says with a conniving smile.
The truth is, he’s dirty as they come. But between him and Hope, I have no doubt they’re as bad as each other.
Christ, I didn’t even realize she was a serial killer for years.
Yet it feels strange to admit my own secrets.
I suppose he’s as good as any in the friendship circle.
“I was hired for a job. I received payment, and I was advised to record and send the recording to a particular email address. I don’t usually ask any questions past that, for the record.”
Braxton looks to Hope and then back to me. “A job like you’ve done for Hope?” he asks.
Hawke’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but I ignore him.
He doesn’t know what hand I have to play in Hope’s business, and that’s just one example of why I’m a vault.
I put my hand on his thigh under the table, and it seems enough to distract him as huge plates of pasta are set in the middle of the table.
Hawke’s eyes light up as he sees the mountain of food.
I try not to laugh as I wait for others in earshot to walk away.
“Kind of, but not the same,” I tell him. “I still have a copy of the recording, even though I was told to destroy it. I have the evidence of what happened that night. I saw the whole thing.”
His eyebrows raise. “Jesus. That’s some damning information. Can I see?” he asks.
I look to Hawke for reassurance, but I trust Hope’s instincts about Braxton, and if he so much as tried to fuck me over in some way, she’d kill him herself, of that much I’m certain.
I pull out my phone and show him the video. Hope leans over his shoulder as he silently watches it. Hawke serves me up a plate, as if him feeding me is an everyday thing.
“She knew him,” Braxton says.
“Yep.”
“It’s possible you’ve been targeted in this. I don’t know much about your line of… work. But do you think it’s too much of a coincidence that you were the one to watch it?” Braxton asks.
“Have your men been able to track me breaking into your ‘top secret’ things at the station?” I ask rhetorically. A vein pulses in his forehead, and I feel smug with that answer.
“Sure you haven’t pissed anyone off lately? Broken someone’s heart recently?” Hope asks, taking a small bite of some pasta.
An energy shifts between Hawke and me, and we glance at one another before I quickly look away. Why the fuck did he have to make eye contact with me right in that moment?
When I turn back to Hope, she’s smirking, and I’m quick to say, “I’m always breaking hearts, but this is different. I know I haven’t been compromised because there would’ve been at least one alert on my safety measures in place. But we think we know who it is.”
This gets Braxton’s attention, and he leans back in his chair.
“We think it might be her ex-boyfriend. We want to bring him back to town and get some answers from him.”
Braxton looks confused. “So why do you need me?”
“We want to throw them off the scent,” Hawke says around a mouthful of pasta. “I’m not happy about not killing him either.”
I roll my eyes. “We want it to go public that he’s been caught. We want answers. If it’s who I think it is, he’s not smart enough to be behind this. He’s just a tool. Literally. I think there’s more to this than we know.”
“So why are you making it your problem? Didn’t you get the paycheck?
” Hope asks. She knows that’s always how I’ve been.
I don’t ask questions, and I don’t go digging further.
This time it’s different. My throat feels like it’s constricting.
Because I now know what it feels like to be helpless and out of sorts.
I might not have agreed with Makayla, but she was my friend at one point, and she deserved more than this.
“She was my friend,” I answer. “I know it doesn’t sit right with you either when men take advantage of women. It might just be a hunch, but I feel like there’s more to this.”
“I can understand the sentiment,” Braxton says as he looks at Hope and I know he’s talking about her and the months he tracked her every step, finally uncovering her secrets.
“So my role in this is to take him after you get answers from him, and put him on public display, and then take the glory of finding the culprit so the big fish don’t realize you’re on his tail. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“We should just kill the fucker,” Hawke grumbles around a mouthful, and I kick him under the table. “Ow.”
“You said I was running this show,” I growl at him, and he rolls his eyes. Actually has the balls to roll his eyes at me.
“I can do that. And you’ll bait him back here? How do you plan on doing that?” Braxton asks.
Hope smirks as if already knowing my answer. “Well, he’s just a guy. It should be easy to get him back after a few messages.”
“I see,” Braxton says.
And that’s the end of that conversation as we enjoy our meal.
Hawke has already demolished three heaping plates before I’m halfway through the first. We talk about Hope’s upcoming show, and it’s nice to see the way Braxton stares at her in admiration.
He’s utterly transfixed, and I know without a doubt he will never betray me because he will never betray her.
“So, what’s happening between you two? You’ve been hanging out a lot. You’re certainly starting to look a lot like a squabbling couple,” she says, piercing a meatball with her fork. Hawke and I both look up at the same time.
“Us?” I look at him in disbelief, and the arrogant asshole has the nerve to smirk as he rests his arms along the back of my chair.
“Yeah, we’d make a pretty hot couple,” Hawke says matter-of-factly.
“What the fuck?” I snap.
“Well, come on. It’s obvious that I’m holding up the team here.” He’s so smug I punch him in the arm.
“You’re such an ass,” I say, throwing his arm off the back of my chair and then piercing a piece of my pasta.
It’s only then that I glance back up and see Hope and Braxton are watching us.
Hope has a big-ass grin on her face. “What? We’re just working on this stuff together. He fucking wishes we were together.”
“See how she treats me?” Hawke says dramatically.
I roll my eyes. “Last time I checked, I treat you pretty well,” I bite back.
“Only when that pretty little mouth of yours is being obedient.”
“Please. My defiant mouth is the thing you like about me most.” I glare at him and can’t help but smile at his arrogant smirk and the way his gaze devours me. Fifty bucks says if I grabbed his cock right now, it’d be hard.
Braxton clears his throat. “Hawke, do you mind if I speak with you outside for a moment?”
Hawke’s playful expression drops, and Braxton doesn’t even wait for his answer before he’s standing and pressing a kiss to Hope’s forehead, promising he’ll be back shortly. We watch as they leave, taking a palpable tension with them.
“I hope they don’t kill each other,” I say, wondering what that’s all about.
Hope nonchalantly shrugs. “I think they’ll end up friends.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised she’d think that.
“Let’s be real. They’re both smartasses who like to push everyone’s buttons.” I think about that, concluding that’s most likely why my father can’t stand him.
“You sure everything’s okay, though? You seem different lately. I just want to make sure you’re all right. And if my cousin is becoming overbearing, let me know, and I can shackle him in a basement for a week.”
I laugh at that. Hope surprises me with some of the things she says.
But it’s reassuring to see this side of her slowly come to the surface.
That she’s comfortable enough with us to reveal all of herself instead of just parts.
I feel almost guilty for keeping some of my own secrets, but I know I’ll eventually talk about them.
Right now doesn’t feel like the right time as I hyper-fixate on getting to the bottom of Makayla’s murder and whatever is happening behind it.
“I’m okay,” I reassure her as I place my hand on hers over the table. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I don’t even think a chain and ball could keep Hawke down for a week. “Now, let’s figure out what I should text Jared to bring him back to New York like a good little boy.”
She chuckles. “From you, ‘Hi’ should be enough.”
I smirk, validated by her confidence in me. Then again, catching a man’s attention has never been difficult for me. It’s the one who keeps showing up at my house uninvited that I’m unsure how to deal with.