Chapter Five
Hawkeye’s horrible day was about to get worse.
He just knew it.
Leo was dead.
No one deserved to die by a bullet to the back, not even a man like Leo. Yet, a person could only dance with the devil so long before he got the pitchfork.
“Hawkeye, how did he die?” the lady covered in blood looked like a swift wind would blow her over.
“Bullet to the back.”
A groan fell off her lips.
How did she know his name? These were the questions he needed answers to, but first things first. She looked like she might fall over any second.
Hawkeye didn’t have time for this babysitting shit but now he was stuck.
When he saw her, after she’d made it out from under Leo, she looked full of fear.
He’d grappled with walking away because surveilling Leo had come to a sudden end, but the side of Hawkeye that hadn’t been hardened by the things he’d witnessed and done over the years kept him from leaving her.
She was lucky she wasn’t dead too.
Grabbing a handful of paper towels, he dampened them and held them out. She must have been in shock because she stood there, staring, a little unsteady. She leaned a shoulder against the wall for safe harbor.
Fuck.
“Do you mind?” He used his chin to point at the paper towels.
She continued to look at him like a deer caught in headlights.
He wiped the smears of blood away from her cheeks, reminding himself to be as gentle as he could be.
Too much pressure and she might collapse.
The tangy scent of blood filled his nostrils, sending him back to six months ago when he’d taken the bullet.
He’d lost a lot of blood before he was rushed into surgery where they repaired the damage.
He gave a little shake of his head.
“So how did you know who I was?” He grabbed more paper towels, wetted them, then continued cleaning the spatters of blood off her skin. There was more than he first thought. She had nice skin, and he was right about her eyes, they were beautiful.
“Leo told me you’d protect me.” Her words came on a soft moan.
He stilled his movements, caught by what she told him. Had he heard right? “Protect you?”
“Something was wrong. He was frantic. Stating that he was in trouble.” She threw up her hands as she talked. Her nails were embedded with dried blood. She noticed too because she continued scrubbing with the cheap liquid soap that smelled like the halls of a hospital.
“Did he say how I’m supposed to protect you?” Hawkeye was caught on that hiccup.
She hesitated as if his question stumped her. “This is all so shocking. He didn’t say much. He told me that if anything should happen to him, I’d be receiving a package, and I should give it to you when I do.”
Hawkeye tossed the dirty towels into the trashcan then leaned back against the sink. Davani was certainly a complicated man.
Although nothing made a lot of sense, one thing was clear, he had caught on that Hawkeye was trailing him.
The last person Davani had spoken to was the woman covered in his blood looking like she was living a nightmare.
He needed to know what she knew, and why would Davani give Hawkeye a package? “What package?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s in it, but he said I’m the only one who can retrieve it. If you want it, you’ll have to keep me safe. You must protect me.”
“You’re in danger? Who or what am I keeping you safe from?” He sighed. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”
With a shake of her head, she quavered slightly. “He knew someone was after him. Wanted him dead. He was scared…and he was right.”
That explained why Davani had been acting strange. From the tense phone call in his office, his anxious movements, to leaving the gym early.
What could be in the package? And why did the woman need to be kept safe?
“My shirt. It’s ruined,” she said in a shaky voice. “I can’t wear this. I need it off me.” She clutched the thin fabric and started ripping it from her body. Water from her wet hands slung everywhere. Her bra became visible.
“Hang on,” he said roughly. Again, he lacked any softness although he guessed she was going into deeper shock.
She stared at him through the thick fringe of her lashes, her hands paused on the shirt. “Why? I can’t wear it.”
She was right, she needed the shirt off. They couldn’t stay in the restroom forever. “You do need to get it off. It’ll draw too much attention.”
“Too much attention from who?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“We’ll get into those facts later. If you want to live, you’ll do as I say.
” He left no room for arguments because he needed to proceed with caution.
Right now, everyone was an enemy. He didn’t have patience, especially when he had no idea why he needed to protect her.
Her jackass boyfriend had dragged her into shit.
Her cheeks turned redder. Maybe from anger. Maybe from the traumatic experience of what she’d witnessed. He didn’t care but they needed to get away from the scene.
“I-I’m not wearing anything except a bra,” she said in a calm voice.
Margo in only a bra would most definitely get attention. She was good looking. Hell, the image of her in the photos stayed glued to the cells of his brain. He didn’t want them to. They’d been taken without her knowledge and Hawkeye wished he hadn’t seen them. He couldn’t unsee them now.
Her alabaster skin, the parts exposed in the ripped material, looked like it had never been touched by the sun.
She now looked up at him like he needed him to tell her what to do next.
Those big, beautiful gems for eyes still held worry and fear.
Truthfully, he’d never seen eyes like those, so blue they were almost like ripe blueberries.
He wondered what her smile would look like, but she wouldn’t be smiling, not now, at least for a while.
Her scent, redolent cinnamon and mint replaced the stringent scent of blood.
Kicking his brain back into gear, he remembered, they had a big issue here.
He swiped off his hat, laid it aside, and removed his shirt, holding it out for her. He was glad he’d worn a T-shirt underneath.
She was staring at his bicep. The sleeve of his T-shirt had rolled up and exposed the healing wound.
Her gaze was frozen on the scar.
He shoved the shirt against her shoulder, the only place where there were no splatters of blood. “Take it. We don’t have all day.” The earlier compassion had dissipated. When she continued to stare back at him, he sighed. “Now what?” he growled and realized what she wanted.
He swiveled on his heels.
Didn’t she realize in her frenzied moment of ripping her shirt off her body he’d seen practically everything?
Not that it had been his plan, but he could see her reflection in the stainless-steel towel holder, just enough of a view that his impatience grew. He watched her pull on his shirt and when she fingered the last button, he turned around. The shirt hung on her like a blanket.
He realized what bothered him most about her was the fact that he felt sorry for her. No one should be violated like Davani had done to her. Then to have him shot in front of her…damn. She looked so frail and fragile.
He picked up her bloody shirt she’d discarded on the floor. “Want to keep it?”
She gave her head a firm shake.
“You okay?” he asked after he shoved the shirt deeper into the trash so it wouldn’t be noticed.
“I don’t know. I just witnessed Leo being shot. Won’t the police want to ask me questions?”
A knock came on the door, and she nearly jumped out of her white Converses.
“It’s occupied,” Hawkeye said. He didn’t take his gaze off her. “No. That’s not happening. You’re not talking to the police.”
“Won’t they want a statement?”
He tilted his head. This was going to be difficult. “From anyone’s point of view, you were simply a passerby that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Eventually, though, they’ll figure out who you are, and they’ll want to speak to you, or rather kill you because of what you know.”
Okay, even he knew he should have used a filter. He was too used to allowing his words to fall out of his mouth without editing first.
“Who’s they? The police?” Concern etched lines around her eyes.
“The ones who just murdered your boyfriend. Remember, he told you that I needed to protect you.”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” she muttered and lowered her face to her reddened palms from the scrubbing. Her shoulders shook.
“Have a seat,” he opened a stall door and pointed at a toilet.
She lifted her face. Thankfully, she wasn’t crying, but she looked like she wanted to head in that direction. “I don’t want to sit.”
“The last thing we need is you passing out and hitting your head. One death is enough in one day.”
He wasn’t going to force her to sit but he’d have to stay close.
“How did you know Leo? Were you two friends? He’d never mentioned you before.” Her senses were starting to come back and the redness in her cheeks had faded.
“Did he always mention his acquaintances?”
“No…but…”
“But what?”
“But this situation isn’t normal.”
“Yet Davani did mention me. He told you to trust me.” Hawkeye could see the chains moving in her expression.
If she asked him too many questions he’d have to start lying.
Bending the truth to hide his cover wasn’t anything new, but sometimes he just wanted to be himself.
There were days when he couldn’t remember who he was—the real Hawkeye.
Dean Hawk, the average guy from a small town.
“How did he know you though? You wouldn’t have socialized in the same crowds.” Her gaze slanted in suspicion.
“I should say that’s obvious.” He didn’t like all the questions.
“Are you intentionally being vague?”
He should have known she wouldn’t make this easy.
He couldn’t blame her. After what she’d been through she had every right to question everyone and anything, but now wasn’t the time.
“Davani and I were business acquaintances.” It wasn’t quite a lie, and it wasn’t quite the truth.
In his career, he realized people needed to hear the truth in small doses.
The important thing, he couldn’t blow his cover.
“You’re not a lawyer.” She journeyed her gaze down him.
“I did work for him. Investigative work.” He’d crossed the line and the untruth flowed easily. He’d become fairly good at steering people in the wrong direction.
“PI work? For his firm?”
“Yea. He hired me to investigate a client. Under the radar stuff.” He couldn’t tell if she totally believed him or not.
Hawkeye didn’t know a lot about Davani, except that he’d been neck deep with the very criminals the Texas Heat recon team had put away.
Hawkeye had hoped Davani would have been more helpful before his demise.
The mystery deepened because the ex-girlfriend was receiving a suspicious package. What game had Davani been playing? Why did he tell Margo to trust Hawkeye?
“I don’t trust you,” she said firmly.
“That doesn't bother me a bit, but if you want to stay alive you need to listen to me.” She needed to listen at least until he had the package in his hands.
“How can I trust you?”
“You can’t. Don’t trust anyone. That’s rule number one.”
“What’s rule number two?”
“To always watch your back,” he said firmly.