Chapter 21
The upstairs needed renovation as much as the lower level, but it was functional. The layout was simple. Two bedrooms with a decent-sized bathroom between them. And again, up here everything was ruthlessly neat. One bedroom was empty. The other had a queen-sized bed, perfectly made, with a laundry hamper in the corner and a dresser on the wall opposite the bed. That was it. No artwork. No family pictures. No laundry tossed on the floor or shoes askew by the closet. The room barely looked lived-in.
I looked again, and it hit me. It was too neat. Too sparse.
This was more than military training. This was—it was like he wasn’t even here. Something about that made me so sad. Hawk gave of himself so willingly. He took care of everyone. He should have a home. A nest. The only truly welcoming thing I”d seen in the gatehouse was that monstrosity of a couch, and I knew that had been a Parker addition. Everything else was utilitarian. Not that I was one to judge, considering I slept in a hammock in the woods instead of my very nice suite of rooms in a historic manor.
I didn”t think Hawk would mind my using his bathroom. It, too, was immaculate and looked barely inhabited, save for a razor and a toothbrush beside the sink, and sparse toiletries in the cabinet above the sink. I turned on the hot water in the shower, standing under the spray for as long as I could manage, with my weight almost entirely on my left leg. It was long enough to wash my hair, scrubbing my scalp and combing conditioner through before attacking my skin with a washcloth and shower gel until I felt clean again.
By the time I dried off, put on lotion, got dressed, and hobbled my way back down the stairs, I was more worn out than I wanted to be. Stupid ankle. Stupid asshole in the woods who”d attacked me.
I was most of the way through my breakfast burrito when I saw Hawk through the front window, getting out of his black SUV. A minute later, the door opened. His eyes were warm when they landed on me, a smile teasing up the side of his mouth until his gaze narrowed on my wet hair, then flicked to the stairs, then to my crutches. I understood immediately.
“I”m fine,” I assured him after I swallowed a generous bite of burrito. “I was slow and careful. I didn”t fall, and I really needed a shower.”
He made a sound in his throat that wasn’t quite agreement. I’d realized about halfway down the stairs that he wouldn’t like it, but it had to be done. I’d meant to shower after dinner the night before but hadn’t been able to force myself to go in my room.
“You finished with breakfast?” Hawk asked.
“Almost,” I said. “Thanks for bringing it over.”
Hawk gave a short nod. “We need to get going.”
I raised an eyebrow and took another bite of the breakfast burrito.
“You have a doctor”s appointment. You need someone to take a look at that sprain.”
My eyebrow cranked up higher. My mouth was full, but I shook my head in protest.
Hawk ignored me. “Your family doctor is booked up. We”re going to the urgent care by the airport. That was the only one that could take you this morning.”
I chewed furiously, swallowing hard. “I don”t—” I didn”t get the words out.
“I”m not a doctor,” Hawk said, “but my guess is they might give you a boot for that sprain instead of the crutches. You”d be able to get around a lot better.”
I shut my mouth, taking another bite of the burrito as I considered his words. Fuck. He was right. I hated going to the doctor. I didn”t mind needles, I wasn’t squeamish, I just— They always reminded me of my mom dying. White coats and scrubs. That smell of antiseptic, cold and bitter.
I didn’t want to go in over something as simple as a sprained ankle, but Hawk was right. They would probably give me a boot, which would be much better than the crutches. I had a boot the last time I sprained my ankle, but that had been a few years ago. I’d lent it to a friend and never bothered to get it back.
“When do we have to leave?” I asked, resigned to being poked and prodded.
“Five minutes.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I was stubborn but not stupid. I shoved the last bite of the burrito in my mouth, chewed, and washed it down with a final sip of coffee.
Two minutes later, we were headed out the door, Hawk following me to the passenger side of his SUV. Before I knew what was happening, he was lifting me into the seat, catching my legs and turning me, making sure my ankle didn”t hit the door as I went in. He handed me my crutches, watching as I clicked the seat belt. Finally satisfied I was secure, he shut the door.
For a guy who didn”t want anything to do with me, he was awfully thoughtful. I didn”t hide my smile as he rounded the vehicle, only dimming it when he got in. We rode in silence down the long drive to the gates and through town, quiet at this hour of the morning.
Tourists were beginning to trickle back into Sawyers Bend, but only a few here and there. We could still drive through town in under five minutes. By May, it would take twenty. And by July, well, in July, it was better to just go around the long way because the long way was the shortcut in July, when tourists clogged the streets, drinking and eating, buying T-shirts and artwork with equal fervor. Unlike a lot of locals, I didn”t mind tourist season. The tourists kept me in business.
We turned onto the state road that would take us to the airport, and Hawk finally spoke. “I don”t know if Griffen told you, but we didn”t find the man who attacked you.”
I nodded, unsurprised. If they”d found him, they would have told me already.
“We increased security, added cameras and a second perimeter alarm in some places. But until we know more, I don”t want you going anywhere alone. The gatehouse and the Manor are safe. No one”s getting close to either one. Not even this guy.”
None of what he’d said so far had surprised me, but his tone there made me stare at him. He wasn’t telling me something. “What do you mean not even this guy?”
His eyes stayed fixed on the road, jaw clenching before he said, “It took us most of the day to track him from the cabin to where he picked up a fire road deep in the forest. This is not the average troublemaker or gun for hire.”
“I don”t understand,” I said.
“So far,” Hawk explained, shooting me a quick look, “whoever is after your family has been hiring local boys. A disgruntled former employee. A former vet who was a little wonky in the head. But this guy— This guy has training.”
“Maybe whoever killed my father went for a higher class of assassin,” I said, only half joking.
Hawk gave a rough laugh, but he didn’t sound amused. “That’s basically what I said to your brother. It would make sense since local talent wasn’t getting the job done, but there”s something off about it. I don”t want to test this guy”s limits. I want you to stay safe.”
I nodded, holding my tongue on what I really wanted to say. There was no point. Not now. I wasn’t going to stay locked up forever. I had a business to run and a life to live. But at the moment, my ankle had me constrained enough. I couldn’t do anything anyway. I couldn’t even drive, so my freedom wasn’t worth fighting over. Not yet.
“I need to ask you for two things,” Hawk said.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yeah?” I asked, curious.
“We”re getting you a dog,” he said.
“Really?” Delight shot through me before it dimmed. “Did Griffen?—”
“I talked to him about it last night. He”s all for it. I know a guy who breeds and trains Belgian Malinois. One of his dogs is almost as good as a human bodyguard.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I wanted a pet, not an employee. And I wasn’t crazy about a purebred dog. There were too many mutts out there who needed homes. “I don”t want a dog from a breeder,” I said. “We can go to the shelter and find a hundred dogs who need homes.”
“You need protection, Quinn. Not some mutt who’ll let anyone with a treat through the door.”
“Mutts have fewer health problems,” I argued, “and they can be trained just like a fancy purebred.”
“A trained mutt isn’t going to be as good as one of Remy’s dogs,” Hawk said, the side of his jaw tight. “And this dog will already be trained. You don”t need one who can protect you in six months. You need protection now.”
“Hawk, you can’t get a trained guard dog overnight.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling pretty sure I’d won that battle.
“Not overnight, but we’re skipping the wait list. I called in a favor,” Hawk said.
My cheeks warmed as I took that in, flattered by the idea that he”d call in a favor for me. But I didn”t want some cold guard dog. I wanted a dog to cuddle and pet and hike with.
“Griffen said it was okay?” I asked again. Hawk nodded. “Can we at least go to the shelter and see what they have? Maybe they”ve got, like, a mean Rottweiler or something. Please?”
“I’ll take you to the shelter,” he said slowly. “After you give me the second thing I want.”
“Okay. What is it?” I asked, suddenly cautious.
Hawk flicked on his blinker and turned into the parking lot of the urgent care, pulling neatly into an open spot. Cutting the engine, he shifted to look at me, his dark eyes unyielding. “I want you to tell me why you can’t sleep in Heartstone Manor.”
All those fizzy bubbles of joy in my chest at the idea of getting a pet went flat. My gut turned to stone. Only Ford knew why I couldn’t sleep in Heartstone Manor. Ford and I planned to keep it that way. It was nobody else”s business. No one needed to know. Not even Hawk.
“Quinn,” Hawk prompted.
“Why?” I whispered. “Why do you need to know?”
Hawk’s eyes stayed on mine, his hand lifting to cup my cheek, his skin on mine an anchor. I leaned into his hand just a little before pulling back. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Not even him.
“I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know,” he said, his voice low.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with this. It was a long time ago.”
“We don’t know who this guy is or what he wants with you. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know.”
Against every instinct, I nodded. A pet for a story I didn”t want to tell. I wanted the dog, but I knew enough to know this wasn’t really a trade. If he felt he needed to know, Hawk would get the story out of me one way or another.
I nodded again and reached for the door handle, looking forward to seeing the doctor for the first time in forever.
I’d see the devil himself if it would delay the conversation to come.