Bates

Now that I know the connection, Lana’s expressions keep hitting me from Hawk’s face, and it’s freaking me out. He’s also measuring out his words so carefully that I have to ask him if he’s sick.

“No, I’m not sick. Why would you ask that?”

“You’re acting weird. If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out and let me go unpack. I won’t punch you.”

“That’s not what you said in the truck.”

“Well, we had company, and I didn’t want to spill my rotten guts in front of her. Hey, Lana, welcome to the site — here’s a ton of dirty fucking laundry we’re going to air out in your face.”

Hawk gives me a flat look. “You’re getting mad again.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pissed off about a lot of shit.” I spit on the ground.

“Sounds like you’re pissed at me.”

“Maybe I am,” I growl, regretting it the next moment when he starts grabbing bags from the truck and throwing them on the ground.

“That’s not mine.” I rush forward to pick up Lana’s pack and smack the dust off it before putting it back with the others.

I organize them into one corner so he doesn’t throw any more of her stuff around, then I sigh.

“You were right about Shaniah being a manipulative, untrustworthy user, and I fucking hate you for it at the same time as loving you for it, because I’m not blind anymore.

You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen, but I can see everything so fucking clearly now it makes my eyes water. ”

Hawk stares at me for a while. The corner of his mouth slowly hooks upward. “You do look like you’ve been crying.”

“Fuck you. I rode in the back. It was the wind.”

His knowing smirk grows. “Uh-huh.”

I flip him the bird. “Point is, I’ve had a few days to recover — parts of which have been unbelievably wonderful in the kind of way that makes me think I’m already over the worst of it.”

“Oh. Well, good, I guess. If that’s what you want.”

Hawk “tidies” my gear into a rough pile by the steps up to my trailer door. “What about the baby?” he asks quietly. “That’s not something you get over in a few days, Kel.”

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose and swallow down my emotions.

“There is no baby. There was no baby. She fucking lied. We’ve been rocky for a while, but every time I thought about leaving, it’s as if she’d read my mind and then make me want to stay.

When her shit got too much again this time, she went and faked a fucking pregnancy to keep me wrapped around her little finger — to keep me in Boulder instead of leaving her for this.

” I gesture around me. “She knew what I wanted, so she gave it to me. She planned so well, too. Did it far enough ahead of time that her fake due date would hit right when you’d need me most, so I’d have to miss either one or the other, and she knew I’d never miss the birth of my own fucking kid.

Four months in, and she starts making excuses about delayed scan dates, then I catch her taking her fucking birth control. It blew up from there.”

“Fuuuuuuck.” The word ekes out of him like a slow leak. “I thought there was a miscarriage, and all the grief and emotional carnage that goes with that shit…”

My friend covers his mouth as he stares off into the distance. He’s been there.

“Yeah. Well, don’t feel too sorry for me. I’m just a gullible shithead with first-world problems. It’s not like I can grieve what I never had, right? So don’t even think about sending me away on some mental health retreat. I love this job, and I’m here to work. I’m fine.”

Again, he just stares at me.

“Okay, I’m sad and I’m angry, but I’m fucking fine. Tell me how you are.”

Hawk shrugs. “Okay, I guess. Busy getting things ready. Waiting for the good ground to thaw. Wondering how long the season’s going to feel when Goose is going to argue with me every fucking day because she hates every fucking word that comes out of my mouth.”

“Maybe stop saying stupid shit to her, and she’ll give you more tolerable responses,” I suggest.

He glares at me. “You sound just like her.”

“Is that a bad thing? If she’s the productivity expert and she’s given you that same advice, then you might want to take it on board.” I grab most of my bags and jog up the steps to my trailer. The door’s already open. “Thanks for airing out my place.”

“Yeah,” he says absently before grabbing the rest of my stuff and following me inside. “You think I said stupid shit to her?”

I turn to face him and meet his confused expression with one of disbelief. I look at him side-on. “You honestly don’t see it?”

He shows me empty palms. “See what?”

I stand taller and look him directly in the eyes. “That she keeps trying to please you and you keep kicking her in the guts for it.”

“What?” He gives a dismissive scoff and brushes off my words before he stills. “When? And how would you know? You’ve only known her for two hours.”

I take a deep breath and grab a beer from the already-stocked fridge. The man takes care of me.

“Hawk, you’re my friend, so I’m just going to tell you straight about what I saw in those two hours.

I saw you tell your daughter the following stupid shit through your words or behavior…

” I count things off on my fingers as I say them.

“That I was more of a draw card to get your ass to the airport than she was. You hate her clothes. She must be tired if she’s visibly — and reasonably — upset.

She’s socially inept and hard to love. You don’t trust her to test out her theories on your family’s claim — you fucking drove her into taking on Scully’s. Alone. Ask yourself, man.”

Hawk scratches the back of his head and winces. “Yeah. I see it now.” He kicks the table support in frustration and then grabs himself a beer from the fridge. “Stocked your fridge for you.”

“Thanks. Did you do that for her?”

“No.” He shrugs. “She’s catching up at Martha’s anyway, and that girl’s got enough booze lying around to share.” He leans against my doorframe, downs his beer, and studies his boots. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a great dad when it happens for real, Kel.”

“I know. I learned from you.” I smack him on the back as I send him out the door.

“You’re a good dad, Hawk. I mean, you say stupid shit, but you’re a good guy, and she obviously loves you, or she wouldn’t bother arguing.

And Martha’s great. And I haven’t met the youngest one yet, but I’m sure she’s great too.

Don’t beat yourself up about it too much.

Now fuck off and deliver Lana’s bags so she doesn’t have to keep wearing that dress she probably can’t wait to get out of. ”

I picked it out for her, and now that — thanks to Hawk’s revelations — she’ll assume she was a rebound fuck, she probably thinks I’m an asshole.

“You think she was that offended by what I said?” Hawk asks, pulling me from my thoughts of his daughter.

“Huh? Oh. Well, I’m sure it didn’t help the situation.”

Hawk frowns. “What situation?”

“Um… being on a mining site in a dress, I guess? But mainly I meant she probably wants to change after wearing the same clothes she’s been in for a long day of travel.

After three flights, even I can’t wait to change.

Ugh. Why does travel make you feel so grimy?

Are my water and gas all locked and loaded so I can take a shower? ”

“Yeah. Course. As soon as you confirmed, I set it up.”

“Good one. Thanks.” I turn to head in, then pause and press my forehead to the side of the trailer. “Is hers?”

I turn slowly back around to face Hawk’s guilt-ridden silence.

I shake my head and sigh. “That’s super un-cool, man. You really need to up your game. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I got it,” he growls as he stalks back to his truck. He slams his door shut before he brings it to life and completes a hasty U-turn that kicks up too much dust. Swatting it away as I cough, I shut myself inside and groan so loudly that I feel it rising from my boots.

I head back outside to watch where Hawk drops Lana’s bags. I need to find out which trailer she’s going to be staying in, so I can pay her a visit and explain myself. Soon. It’s eating me up inside to have her thinking less of me than I want her to.

Hawk parks next door to Martha’s and walks around the side of the green guest trailer to check the utility connections, then he carts Lana’s bags inside like he fucking should. I don’t even realize I’m growling until Hawk’s dog, Skit, barks at me from the road.

The friendliest dog in the world came to welcome me back, but had to tell me off instead for rumbling at her master like a self-righteous dickhead because I can’t stop feeling possessive as fuck over the man’s daughter.

I am so fucking screwed.

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