Maybe I want to believe him. The sincerity in his voice drips with earnestness, but fear has distorted the memories we once shared.
“Crow, if you’re really on my side, then tell me why you never told me who you are. Why did you hide yourself from me?”
A flicker of pain flashes in his eyes, and he steps back, the distance between us seeming to stretch exponentially despite the emotional pull that keeps drawing me closer. A small part of me feels like I'm losing him, but how can you lose something you never had? I had a relationship with Hawk—then he disappeared and Crow emerged. The sting of betrayal feels like a fucking knife to my heart, even though it hasn't been confirmed just yet.
“Whitney, it’s not that simple... I treaded lightly because I didn’t want to add to your pain. All this—Havoc, you, and me—it’s acomplicatedhistory, deeper than you can imagine.”
“Complicated?” I echo, frustration surging through my words. “I’m not asking for a fucking history lesson; I’m asking for clarity! For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m being torn apart, and with Dustin’s threats hanging over me, I can't do this without knowing the full truth.”
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture filled with a myriad of emotions. “Every thread of our lives is woven into a bigger tapestry, and while I want to pull you into it, I’m terrified of what it’ll reveal.”
"What the fuck does that even mean?" I shake my head, hair brushing against my cheeks, matching the turbulence of my heart. “I can’t keep living in the shadows, Crow. Not anymore. If you care for me—even just a tiny fucking bit—you’ll tell me everything, even if it’s terrifying.”
He pauses, weighing the gravity of my request, and for a moment, his gaze flickers to the door, the world beyond growing larger than either of us realized. I zone out, running my fingertips along the knife in my hand. The metal is cold, nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him. Trust is a fragile thing, but I catch the flicker in his eyes—something unyielding, something that says he means every word.
Without another word, Crow reaches up and grabs the elastic band of his mask, tugging it up off his head, and lets out apainful-sounding sigh as he drops it to the floor. I gasp, even though I was already expecting him to be one of the boys I fell in love with years ago. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and my heart begins to shatter into a million pieces as I take in his features, the stubble on his face, and the tattoos—all of it. He still looks like Hawk, just a little more grown than he looked when I saw him last.
Silence falls between us, and I drop the knife, lunging at him without warning. My fist connects with his jaw, and I hear a pop, but I keep swinging, hitting him over and over while he just takes each one, knowing he fucking deserves them. A sound I don't recognize comes from somewhere deep inside me—the sound of a broken heart breaking even more.
"You fucking bastard!" I scream, moving my punches to his solid chest, feeling his muscles tighten with each blow.
"Whitney," he says softly, grabbing hold of my wrists to stop me from hitting him. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"You don't even know what 'sorry' fucking means!" I scream, fighting through his strong hold as he shoves me back inside my apartment, slamming the door behind us.
I manage to free my hand, and I hit him again, this time causing blood to pour out of his nose. Apparently it angers him, and the next thing I know is I'm being dragged into the kitchen, where he slams my back against the fridge and wraps his hand around my throat to get me to stop. I keep hitting him, feeling the anger flood through my body, but when his lips collide with mine, my hands abruptly stop and clutch the front of his shirt instead.
The kiss is unlike any that we've had before. Fireworks erupt in my mouth as his tongue swirls around mine, his body pinning me to the cold fridge so I can't move. But honestly, I don't want to. Even the blood running down his face and smearing all overme doesn't make me want to stop; it only intensifies the feelings of desperation and pleasure within me.
I let go of his shirt and cup his face in my hands, finally feeling how soft his skin is for the first time in so fucking long. Each moan that slips from my lips Hawk catches in his mouth, letting out a deep, seductive growl after each one. Heat pools between my thighs, and clenching them only makes the wetness drip down the inside of them, making me ache for him in ways that I never have before.
Suddenly, he lifts me into his arms and slams my ass onto the counter, violently ripping down my pants and pulling his down simultaneously. As he gets between my parted legs, he chokes me harder, pulling his mouth from mine and staring deeply into my eyes.
"You broke my fucking nose, Whitney. Now it's time for me to break every fucking part of you," he growls, diving back in with a kiss so hot it has me panting into his mouth as he bends his knees and slides inside of me, his cock stretching me out in the most amazing ways.
In an instant, reality blurs into a haze of primal desire, a collision of anger, need, and unresolved emotion. My thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind, unable to grasp the tumultuous storm of feelings that Hawk ignites within me. In one moment, I’m battling him, sending my rage crashing against the walls we’ve built around our hearts. And in the next—oh God, I’m pulling him closer, urging him deeper into me like he’s the antidote to a poison I forgot I was suffering from.
“Hawk,” I gasp for the first time, mouth agape, every thrust driving the remnants of my thoughts into oblivion.
The tension tightening in my stomach swells, brimming with a volatile mix of anger and needs I didn't know I still had. I grip his biceps as he plunges into me, feeling the way his muscles quiverwith each thrust, matching the rhythm of my beat-up heart—a chaotic symphony of pleasure and heartache.
But I can’t shake the fragments of uncertainty lingering in the back of my mind. I want to surrender completely to this moment—to the fire between us—but my doubts fight to resurface.
“You can’t just…”
“I fucking can,” he interrupts, halting his movements only long enough to lean closer, brushing his lips against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You wanted to know the truth, didn’t you? Here’s the truth: you’re fucking mine, Whitney. You always have been.” His voice is a low growl, sending a thrill coursing through me, blurring the lines between anger and longing.
But beneath the raw determination and need, there’s the sinister shadow of Dustin’s threats—they linger, clawing at the edges of my thoughts. Can I really trust him?
“Hawk,” I murmur, voice breaking, finally reconciling the chaotic train of emotion within me while still urging him to go faster.
My body betrays me, craving more from him even as my heart protests against the weight of what we’ve lost, what has yet to be revealed.
“What about the secrets? What about all the lies?” I ask, raking my nails up and down his back.
He pauses, eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and conflict. “You think the truth is easy to face? It’s not just about us. There’s a lot hanging in the balance, Whitney, and I promise I’m going to tell you everything. Just... just let me fucking feel you first,” he breathes, and I see a flicker of vulnerability that pierces through the chaos.
Desperate, I nod, surrendering just enough to let the pleasure swell, drowning out the worries gnawing at me. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, urging him on, an intoxicatingwhirl rising within me, eclipsing the painful memories of nights spent bruised and broken. I close my eyes and let the darkness of uncertainty wash away as each powerful thrust plunges me deeper into this forgotten oasis between us.
