Chapter 8
Delaney ‘Laney’
I must be hearing things. “Say that again, please.”
“I—no, I’m not having this conversation to your back. I need to see your face. I’m getting up and helping you to the bathroom. Then we’ll talk,” he commands.
Rising, he comes around the bed, lifts me and carries me to the bathroom. “Call out when you’re done and I’ll come back.”
I’m still trying to get my bearings straight when there’s a tap on the door.
“It’s seven, you want coffee or tea?”
“Coffee.” Lots and lots of coffee. I’m afraid this is going to be a painful encounter.
Okay, so we’re having this conversation. I can do this. I’m an adult. Damn, what if he rejects me? Dismisses my feelings?
You’ll deal with it. You’ve wanted this forever, go for it and quit stalling.
After I finish and haphazardly run a comb through my hair and brush my teeth, I’m more prepared to take on the world. Or at least my dream world. I open the door. “I’m done. Can you bring me my crutch?”
He looks up from placing a cup of coffee on the end table. Crossing to me he lifts me bridal style and places me on the couch, slipping the padded foot stool under my calves and leaning my crutch beside me.
“I’ll be right back.”
When he returns, he’s grabbed his own mug of coffee and sits on the fireplace hearth across from me.
“I checked with the office. They monitored our security all night and it’s all clear.”
“Are they monitoring the inside too?”
“No. As long as there are no breaches. They’ll monitor the door opening and closing in case we’re caught by surprise, or turn all monitors on if we hit a code red. But what we say or do once we’re locked inside is just us.”
I nod and take a fortifying sip of my coffee.
He studies his own for a moment before meeting my gaze.
“This is a stressful time for you. You’ve been attacked for the second time causing more critical injuries and you’re back in protective custody.
Your brother, your rock, can’t be here because he’s deployed.
You’re at the mercy of strangers again.”
I choke back my rebuttals, knowing that a planned, thought-out contradiction is required. He’s worked this all out in his mind. My response must be equally strategic.
“You’re scared and feeling vulnerable. For a woman with as much drive as you, that must be frustrating. I’m the only known in your life right now. Not unlike Stockholm syndrome. You’re fixating on me for security...and emotional support.”
“I see your point.” I take a deliberate sip of my coffee and watch the tension leave his shoulders. He thinks he’s made his argument for us staying platonic. “This is very helpful to get the facts and information out there. I appreciate your concerns and insight.”
He meets my gaze, nods, and releases a breath as if he’s won the battle.
I smile. “And I call bullshit.”
He stiffens, gaze flying to mine.
“I fell in love with you when I was sixteen. I chalked it up to infatuation. But infatuation wanes with time. My feelings for you have only grown. I know the difference. I took a few psych classes in college.
“I know you blame yourself for Allen hurting me the first time. And for this latest attack.
“Again, I call bullshit.
“Allen attacked me, twice. Willingly and without remorse because he wanted to. You can blame yourself, but with or without you, he’s a ticking bomb and would have done something sooner or later. After all, I’m the one who got away.
“I won’t be surprised when your company really starts accumulating the dirt on him that I am not the only person he’s physically hurt.
Maybe even killed. With or without you he would have tried something.
I pissed him off when I told him to get out and not come back.
The proof is his second attack. He had to come after me again because I didn’t pay the ultimate price.
I didn’t die the first time.” I pause, realizing what I just said is the truth.
It was in his eyes the day he pushed me down the stairs. The pure hatred.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I shake off the shock of that realization.
Glancing at Hawke, I see his jaw grind, his shoulders tense. The way he’s clutching his coffee mug I’m afraid it will shatter. “He will never fucking touch you again.
My heart does a flip and my body relaxes. It’s there, all there in his posture, his words, gaze.
“My feelings for you? All I can say is, you know when you know. For ten years I’ve known that I love you, Hawke. You’re it for me.
“I’m not sixteen anymore and I sure as hell am not innocent of what goes on in the world.
I know what I feel. If you don’t reciprocate, there is nothing I can do that will change your mind.
But don’t try to lie to me. I’ve seen things, wants, emotions, in your eyes.
I can’t and won’t speak for you. You must be honest with yourself.
I’ll accept the truth. But I won’t accept a lie.
“As for the age issue, I call...”
“Bullshit, I know. When did that become your favorite word?”
The hint of laughter in his voice brings a smile to my lips. “When you became so bull headed.”
“Your brother....”
“My brother warned you off. The whole Bro Code. Well, I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. My life. My rules. My choices.”
“H-he knows?”
“Of course he knows.”
“And he let me watch over you?” He runs a hand down his face. “I’m surprised he hasn’t shivved me.”
“I told him I’d never talk to him again if he did. He knows you’ve never touched or come on to me. But now that we’ve slept together....”
“Laney!”
“Kidding.... Look, I’m not sixteen anymore. I’ve been through things that change a person. The age difference at this point in life, is nothing.
I steel myself with a deep breath. “I’m no prize. There are...”
“If I get pregnant, I’ll probably have to have a C-section. The reality, I may end up in a wheelchair at some point. Won’t that be fun!”
“That does not define you. You are a brilliant, talented woman. You’ll always be special, sweetheart. You’ll always be perfect,” he says.
“Then listen to yourself. I want you, Hawke. Not your sympathy or protection. It’s always been you and I’m pretty sure it always will be. I don’t want to force you to be or do something you don’t want. Bu—”
“I’ve wanted you for ten years. Only you. There hasn’t been anyone else,” he responds.
“Wha... What are you saying?”
“Your image in my mind and Rosie Palm. No one else could hold a candle to you. Not as beautiful, not as smart, or brave and kind. No one interested me.”
“Why have we wasted so much time? Why didn’t we say something? Do something?”
“I was deployed a lot. You were in school, then injured. The age gap thing. Your brother.” He smirks at me. “I taught him well. He knows how to hide a body.”
“Yeah, well I bet I could too!”