A dark smile spreads across Hawk's face, one that reminds me he's not just the gentle artist who held me through the night, but a dangerous man capable of violence. "Let him try."
"You don't understand." My fingers dig into his arm. "My uncle and Marco are very powerful people in Wraithport. They have connections. They have resources."
"And I have brothers who would burn this whole fucking town to the ground if I asked them to." He cups my face, his calloused palm warm against my cheek. "Listen to me, Aria. No one touches what's mine. No one hurts you and walks away from it."
My heart flips at his words.What's mine.The possessiveness in his tone should frighten me, but instead, it makes me feel protected. Cherished.
"Russo and I go way back," Hawk says, his gaze drifting to the pond, seeing something beyond its still surface.
"You know him?"
"Not the way you're thinking." Hawk's jaw clenches. "It's been ten years since the car crash that took my family from me.”
I blink, confusion momentarily overriding my fear. "Your family?"
Hawk shifts, pulling me closer to his side. The autumn breeze rustles the leaves above us, sending more crimson and gold fluttering down around us.
"Ten years ago, on Halloween night, my parents and my little sister died in a car accident right outside our home.” His voice drops, becoming flat, emotionless. "It was dark and stormy, like the night I found you. Russo was the lead investigator. He determined my father was drunk and speeding, lost control of the car. They hit a tree, the car caught fire and exploded.”
"Oh, Hawk." I press my hand against his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my palm.
"Things about it didn't add up." Hawk's eyes narrow. "My father rarely drank. I never saw the man drunk, ever. The road was familiar to him. It made no sense."
"Did you tell the police?"
“Hell, yeah, I did. I questioned everything. But Russo was adamant that all evidence pointed to my father being at fault." His hand closes into a fist on his thigh. "I was only twenty-five, just out of the service, struggling with PTSD, and prospecting for the Shadow Reapers. I never believed it, but I had no choice but to accept the findings."
I try to imagine Hawk at twenty-five, fresh from active duty, suddenly being told his father killed his family through negligent recklessness. The pain he must have felt—the helplessness, the rage.
We sit in silence for a long moment, the weight of our shared confessions hanging between us.
"That's why you don't live in the mansion," I whisper, breaking the silence. “Why it’s left vacant, rotting away. Too many memories."
He nods. "Too many ghosts."
“Oh, god, and I made you go there. By breaking in, I forced you to have to return there.” My heart sinks when I realize what I’ve done to this man who’s shown me nothing but kindness.
“Shh, stop that,” he tells me, cupping my face between his large hands. “It was time. It's time I confronted some things in my past. And made sure your future is secure."
I’m not sure what exactly he means, but his ominous tone frightens me.
As we pack up the blanket and head back to his motorcycle, I can't shake the feeling that I may have just pulled the pin on a grenade.
What if our pasts destroy our future?
Chapter 9
Hawk
My woman’s fingers tighten around mine as we step through the clubhouse doorway.
Orange and black streamers hang from the ceiling along with the other Halloween decorations—fake cobwebs stretching across corners, and life-sized plastic skeletons seated at tables and leaning against walls. Music thumps through speakers as brothers mill around, preparing for our annual charity run.
I give Aria’s hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling the nervous tension radiating from her body.
"Everyone's going to love you," I murmur close to her ear. "Just be yourself."
Her dark eyes find mine, vulnerable yet trusting. She nods, taking a deep breath.
