Chapter 81
Tension I felt even in sleep eased from me, I relaxed into him knowing, with him curled into me, his heat seeping in, his power enveloping me, everything was going to be all right.
And now I was alone in bed, it was still the pitch of night and Hawk was gone.
I threw the covers back and slid out of his big bed, heading directly to the stairs. I knew that the light by the battered chair was on as I headed down them even though I couldn't see it. I turned at the foot of the stairs, took two steps toward the chair and stopped dead.
Hawk was sitting under the light in that chair. He was wearing nothing but cargo pants and he was bent nearly double. He had one elbow in his knee, hand dangling between his thighs. The other elbow was also to his knee but his forearm was lifted so he could curl his hand around his neck. His head was dropped and it stayed that way.
"Baby," I called softly and his neck bent back, his eyes coming to me but his hand didn't drop.
Something was wrong with his eyes. Very wrong.
"Baby," I whispered and started to walk to him.
"I was wrong," he said quietly as I approached.
"About what?" I asked.
"Us," he answered and I stopped.
"What?" I was still whispering.
"I was wrong about us," he replied.
I felt my heart squeeze and, God, did it hurt.
"You were wrong about us?"
He dropped his hand from his neck, lifted his torso partially up but kept his elbows to his knees.
"Can't do this, Sam," he stated.
"Do..." That word came out strangled so I cleared my throat and finished, "What?"
"This shit, can't do it."
"This..." I paused this time because it was difficult to bring myself to say it, then I said it, "Shit?"
"Yeah, this shit," he replied, not having trouble saying it at all.
I moved to the side where luckily a big, iron column stood and I wrapped my hand around it, leaning my body into it to hold myself up.
"What do you mean?" I asked, finding it difficult to breathe mainly because my heart was lodged in my throat.
"You and me, I was wrong. I thought I could do it but I can't do this shit."
"Are you..." That sounded strangled again so I swallowed and continued, "Ending things?"
"Yeah." His answer was instant and unwavering.
"You're ending things," I repeated just to confirm.
"Yeah," he repeated, again instant and unwavering.
I felt the tears hit my sinuses.
Boy, Troy was right. It hurt a lot more when a man walked all over you wearing combat boots.
"You promised," I whispered and he did. He promised. Not even twenty-four hours ago, he fucking swore he'd handle me with care.
He stood and I released the column and stepped back.
"This is me keepin' that promise, Sam."
"You are so full of shit." I continued whispering.
"Better now than when you're tied tighter to me, babe."
"You... are..." I leaned forward, lost it in the middle of a sentence and shrieked, "So full of shit!"
