Chapter Three
Hawkeye slowed and hung back in a mass of tourists, keeping Davani in his sight. He was shouldering his way through people and nearly knocked an elderly woman aside in his haste. He muttered a semi-apology and kept on going, not caring that he was pissing people off.
Whatever happened in the last hour had the man frantic.
He paused for a moment, scanning the crowd and his bloodshot gaze landed directly on Hawkeye, who quickly sidestepped behind a circle of people admiring a statue.
Fuck! Davani saw him. Would he recognize Hawkeye?
They’d met briefly after Silver’s trial.
Hawkeye had told the cocky attorney that he could be in danger and if he ever needed anything Hawkeye could help.
It had been an olive branch, an opportunity to expose the scum in the agency, but Davani never reached out.
When he looked back up Davani was gone. Hawkeye craned his neck until he found him again.
He was sitting at a table at the coffee shop with a woman.
Not just any woman but the brunette from the pictures in Davani’s safe.
Margo Winnfield. Hawkeye’s blood flared.
Knowing what he saw in the photos made him feel dirty too.
First chance he got he’d dispose of them safely but for now, his priorities were on finding out what had Davani acting like a cornered animal.
Could it be possible that he’d found out that Hawkeye had broken into the office and found the photos? There was always a possibility…
The woman—Margo—had agitation in her expression that made her look older than her thirty-two years. Hawkeye knew this from his research into the case.
What was Leo telling her that made her so upset? That he was a pervert who liked to snap private photos of his girlfriends when he wasn’t getting blowjobs in the VIP room at the Heated Sin Strip Joint?
She shifted uncomfortably into the wrought iron chair.
Although she was angry, she was still pretty.
The sun rays turned strands of her dark hair into caramel tones.
Bangs framed her blue eyes. Hawkeye felt a stab of guilt because the image of firm breasts, slender body, and the shapely length of her toned legs stuck in his head.
It wasn’t like he’d gotten a boner from looking at the photos.
There was just something about her that caused a stir in him.
Hawkeye hoped that Davani would tell her about the photos, and she’d throat punch him, even knee him in the balls for good measure, like he deserved. Hawkeye wouldn’t mind helping a girl out and punching Leo too. Bastard.
The breeze caught pieces of her hair, sending them floating around her flushed cheeks.
She lifted her left hand to tug them away and he noticed she was wearing a ring that looked a lot like a silver band.
Not on the wedding finger though, but the middle finger.
So how long had she and Davani been broken up?
Hawkeye hoped she never went back to the douche.
A tightness crawled into Hawkeye’s chest. Where was this anger coming from? Emotions didn’t belong in any case.
Margo was sitting down so he couldn’t gauge how tall she was. In comparison to Davani, she looked short, about five-five, five-six.
The conversation between the two turned heated. They exchanged words that had people at surrounding tables looking in interest.
She wanted to leave but Davani had his hand on her.
Hawkeye envisioned breaking Davani’s fingers. Instinct made him take a step and then he caught himself. As much as he wanted to rush over and body slam Davani for touching her, Hawkeye would cause more problems than good. He settled himself at the corner of the building and continued watching.
Davani jumped up and went to sit in the chair closest to her. He took her hand and suddenly the dynamics changed between them. Margo looked more concerned than angry.
Hawkeye ground his teeth in agitation.
He wondered if Margo knew that she was sitting next to a sick fuck. One that had just gotten his rocks off with his assistant and was now whispering in Margo’s ear. She looked down, her color draining. She wasn’t falling for his simpering.
Men like Leo didn’t have morals. They used their power to get what they wanted, when they wanted it.
Hawkeye had seen that behavior through his career.
Did he have a right to judge when he too was a liar?
No, but he’d been lying and manipulating to keep his country safe and following orders to carry out covert missions.
He never allowed anyone to see his true layers but only the facade of a man who took down bad people.
Hawkeye had become accustomed to never being his true self.
A part of him wondered what it’d be like to “just be”. Sitting with a beautiful woman like Margo, holding her hand, and having coffee together. Maybe take in sites or a carriage ride through the streets of San Antonio, or a gondola ride even. He chuckled. That wouldn’t happen.
He couldn’t remember the last person he’d been on a date with or close with. He’d been close to his Ma. Then cancer ravaged her body, and she lost the battle. Fuck cancer.
There’d been no one he could consider the love of his life.
Not even Nicole, who he’d dated in high school and thought he would marry one day.
Rather everyone around him thought he and Nicole would marry and he didn’t argue.
Fucking Hawkeye’s buddy had scrapped any idea of a future with her and he’d washed his hands of both.
That was old news, and he didn’t feel like taking a stroll down memory lane.
Focusing on Davani and Margo, Hawkeye wanted to get closer.
He slipped a few paces down the sidewalk but stayed hidden.
He wanted to take off his hat and wipe the sweat off his forehead, but he didn’t want to take the chance to draw attention to himself.
He needed to remember as ignorant as Davani seemed, he was a smart man.
He graduated at the top of his class from Harvard Law.
That went to show anyone that a degree was only as good as the beholder.
The man could have done a lot for a lot of people instead of giving scum a get-out-of-jail-free card.
San Antonio was a balmy one hundred degrees, and the crowded streets made it almost unbearable.
Wearing long sleeves and a T-shirt underneath his button down added to the misery.
Since being shot, Hawkeye hid the scars with layers.
He found keeping them from people’s sight meant he didn’t have to answer questions.
Gun wounds had a way of drawing interest and questions that he couldn’t answer.
His life wasn’t his own.
Davani and Margo were now on the move.
Hawkeye pulled his backpack higher on his shoulder and kept his stride easy on the sidewalk. Just a tourist checking out the sights to everyone around.
He kept a proper amount of distance between him and the couple but was careful not to lose them in the crowd which could be easy to do.
A block down they hit the bar district. The streets were more crowded, and music flowed from every open door of every club.
The places were so full patrons were hanging on the sidewalk.
It became a little more problematic to keep his eyes on Leo, but finally the two stopped near a crosswalk. Was Leo saying goodbye to her?
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman in the rose-colored dress. Her gaze was on him, and she sashayed his direction. “Change your mind, handsome?”
“Sorry. I’m just doing some sightseeing.”
She drew in closer, her gaze sparkling against the dark eye shadow surrounding her brown eyes. “I know a better place than this dump anyway. Interested?” Her smile doubled in size.
“I have an itinerary that doesn’t include hanging out with a beautiful woman.” He had no desire to hurt her feelings, but he also had a mission he needed to stay focused on.
“Too bad. I would have made it worth your time, honey.” She frowned and allowed herself to be pulled away into the crowd.
He searched for Davani.
A scream was followed by a wave of gasps.
Hawkeye wondered what the hell he’d missed.
He pushed his way through the assembled crowd. Davani lay in a crumbled, lifeless heap on top of Margo. Blood puddled onto the street around them.
At first, Hawkeye thought they both were hit by a car, but then he saw Margo pushing, trying to get Davani’s weight off her. Everyone stood around, in shock, no one making any attempt to help her.
What the hell were people good for?