Soar high, p.14
Soar High, page 14
That evening, Kit was still waiting for Hawk to return.
A while after her panic attack, before she’d mustered the courage to find him, she’d heard a motor in the courtyard. She’d run outside to see his plane taking off from the lake. Water streamed off the floats and glittered in the sunlight.
Now, supper over, the Hermitage people—except Hawk—were in the gazebo, having drinks.
And singing.
She really did love the musical evenings. Regan, who was learning violin, and Audrey, who was new to the guitar, joined in on the easy tunes. JJ occasionally played her flute.
Between Caz’s knees, Aric “helped” him drum.
Oddly enough, her son didn’t seem concerned about Hawk’s absence, which was such a relief. If he’d started crying for Hawk, she might have joined in.
Boy, she’d really messed up.
Hawk had been trying to help her. Giving her advice, being blunt and teasing as a friend would.
Then she’d gone and hugged him and touched him. Like, in a sexy way. Because she was…interested…in him.
Talk about stupid. No guy wanted another man’s dirty leftovers.
And she was definitely used goods. She swallowed, feeling as if she’d rolled around in the chicken yard and everyone could smell the filth covering her skin.
Hawk probably could too.
To complete her humiliation, she’d had an ugly meltdown right in front of him. How absolutely pitiful. If he hadn’t already realized she was damaged, she’d sure made it clear.
No wonder he’d walked out of the house.
As they were finishing up another song, multiple phones chimed with incoming text messages. Gabe, Bull, and Caz checked their cells.
When Bull scowled, Frankie asked, “What?”
“Seems Hawk’s taken an undercover job down in South America for a friend who needed a pilot and extra guard.”
Guilt swept over Kit, darkening her world like the blackest of nights.
It was her fault.
He’d left his family—his home—to escape her.
“If he’s undercover, he won’t get in touch until after it’s over,” Caz said.
Gabe’s brows drew together in annoyance. “It doesn’t say when he’ll be back.” After making a growling sound, he shook his head and texted something back.
“What did you say?” Audrey asked, leaning against his shoulder. “Nothing too angry…?”
“No, Goldilocks.” Gabe sighed. “Although I might pound on him a while when he gets back.”
Bull chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
With a rueful smile, Gabe flipped him off, then turned his attention back to Audrey. “I just sent him what Mako used to say whenever Hawk took off from the old cabin.”
“Of course.” Smiling slightly, Caz looked up to where the mountains met the sky and said softly, “Soar high, ’mano.”
Chapter Thirteen
Each time women gather in circles with each other the world heals a little more. ~ Unknown
* * *
Almost a week later, Kit was getting ready for her group session at the counseling center. She still wasn’t comfortable with it, but the anxiety was decreasing. Sitting on the bed, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a loose top—one that would survive tears.
She walked down the hallway and out onto the deck. JJ had volunteered to watch Aric along with Regan, and her son was already over at Caz’s house. Or not. She spotted JJ and Regan on the patio, but Aric was…
Aric was near the dock, although not past the yellow line Gabe had spray-painted on the grass. The no-children-past-this-line boundary.
Holding a maroon-colored blob—a stuffed animal or something—her son stood, staring at the dock. As he had, several times a day, since Hawk had left.
Like her, he was probably seeing the bare place where the floatplane should be.
Shoulders slumping, Aric shoved the maroon object into the hoodie’s kangaroo pocket and trudged up to the house and onto the deck.
“Hawk didn’t come home, Mama.” The tears in his eyes simply broke her heart into pieces.
Damn Hawk anyway. How could he do this to her baby?
Dropping into a deck chair, she pulled Aric close, hearing the almost silent sobs.
Tears filled her own eyes. “Hawk will be back, honey. I know he will.”
But maybe not soon, and little boys of four years didn’t understand time. Days flashed past for her. For Aric, the hours were so very long.
Damn you, Hawk.
She wanted to hit him for every single tear her son cried. But how much of this was her fault? He wouldn’t have left his home and his brothers if she hadn’t been so very stupid. How could she blame him for escaping from an awkward situation?
If only he’d call so she could explain.
Yeah right. Hawk—have an uncomfortable conversation on a phone? That would happen about never. And Gabe had mentioned if Hawk was undercover, he wouldn’t call home.
“Hey, Aric,” Regan yelled from next door. “C’mon. We’re gonna look for tadpoles.”
Kit lifted her head and saw JJ watching with an understanding expression. Yes, she’d undoubtedly been in the same position—unable to help a heart-wounded child.
Moving her boy back a step, Kit wiped his damp cheeks with a tissue she’d stuck in her pocket in anticipation of a stormy group session. “Here you go, honey. Blow your nose. Then give me a hug since I have a meeting to go to tonight.”
He did and then trotted off the deck, heading for Regan.
Sirius streaked across the grass, then slowed and followed at a dignified distance, puffy tail held high.
Aric crouched to pet the giant cat, and his little chuckling laugh carried up to Kit.
Okay. Okay then. He’d be all right. For now.
Come home, Hawk. I’ll stay away. Just…come home.
An hour later, in the town of Soldotna, Kit sat in a circle of women.
The room in the counseling center was soothing enough. The pale green walls, warm lighting, and thriving philodendrons created a calm atmosphere. Chairs upholstered in blues and greens sat a comfortable arm’s width apart in a circle.
And yet…
Group counseling sure wasn’t for cowards.
Across the circle from Kit, Fernanda cried while telling how she’d hidden in her house for a month after being raped. Unable to leave, unable to sleep, spiraling down and down. “And then my sister, she pounded on the door and used her key and came inside.”
“Oh, thank god,” someone whispered, and Kit felt the same.
“She…” Fernanda smiled a little. “Big sister. Bossed me into the shower, into eating, and when I couldn’t sleep, she crawled into bed with me. And eventually, I could tell her what happened.”
“Talking about it is hard, isn’t it,” Diana muttered and got a chorus of soft agreements.
“She was with me when I left the first time. Got me into a counselor.” Fernanda shook her head. “And I am back to work again.”
Kit joined in the gentle applause.
Every woman in the group was a survivor of sexual assault. Their attackers had been spouses, dates, and strangers. With some women, the abuse had occurred years in the past. A few, like Kit, were only weeks or months away from the assault.
Kit hadn’t felt as isolated as the others here, probably because the women in the PZ compound had been abused. To avoid being beaten, most of them submitted to their husbands and to the “cleansings” by Parrish and Nabera. And each time, she’d felt used. Like a thing. But at least she’d had the other women there. They’d offer each other silent support—a surreptitious pat on the shoulder, an extra ladle of soup, a quiet smile and sympathetic look. They all understood.
Shaking the thoughts away, Kit returned her attention to the circle of women.
Diana was talking about her husband. Last night, when he’d hugged her in her sleep, she’d panicked and run to the bathroom to vomit. He’d held her hair back and given her a washcloth to wipe her face.
Blinking away tears, Diana smiled at the group. “There really are nice men in the world. Now I just have to convince my body of that.” Huddling into herself, she whispered, “I just don’t know if I can.”
Remembering how Hawk’s silent gestures of support helped, Kit leaned over and offered her hand. “Need to hold on?”
Diana shook her head no, then choked on a laugh. “God, yes.” She gripped Kit’s hand hard.
Kit knew the relief of feeling anchored to someone else.
And deep inside, she could feel her own healing. She wasn’t broken completely if she could still help someone else.
Chapter Fourteen
When I hear somebody sigh, “Life is hard,” I am always tempted to ask, “Compared to what?” ~ Sydney J. Harris
* * *
How long had Hawk been stuck in this damn billionaire’s mansion in Brazil? He tried to count off the days. Almost two weeks? Seemed like fucking forever.
Last week, the Hermitage would’ve celebrated the Fourth of July. Not with fireworks since sunset was around 11:30, and the sky just didn’t want to darken. But there would’ve been grilled salmon and various dishes from the garden’s produce. Vegetables grew like crazy when the sun barely set. JJ probably made a cake decorated for the holiday, so Aric would’ve been on a sugar high. Hawk could almost hear his giggles.
No matter how crazy the kid got, Kit would still look at her boy with those soft eyes.
Jesus, he missed them. All of them. Especially Kit and Aric.
How the fuck had that happened?
Growling under his breath, he picked up his eReader and paged to where he’d lost the thread of the story.
A few minutes later, Zander deVries walked into the two-bedroom suite they shared. The hard ass ex-merc was laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Hawk growled.
“The cook thinks we’re brothers.”
“Yeah?” Hawk eyed his friend. They were the same general build—thickly muscled and 6’2”. They both had short, dark blond hair. Hawk had a trim beard. Both were fair skinned with deep tans and light eyes, though deVries’ were grayish-green rather than blue. “Maybe.”
Although deVries had grown his hair out to look less like a bodyguard, an observant pro might ID him from the way he moved and the cold, evaluating gaze.
Another way they were similar, Hawk admitted.
“You know, if you want to be my brother”—deVries grinned—“you’ll need a whip.”
“Fuck no. Get me a beer instead.”
“Bro, sadists have more fun.” Laughing, deVries retrieved beers from the small fridge.
“Hard pass.” That was another result of a crappy childhood and abusive father—the thought of hurting someone for fun was nauseating.
To each his own, and, at least, deVries didn’t play his BDSM games without full consent. “I’ve got enough brothers, thanks.”
“You got good brothers.” At Hawk’s look of surprise, deVries added, “Met them at Mako’s funeral. I was there, guarding Zachary Grayson.”
“Right. Bull mentioned the doc had a bodyguard.” Hawk hadn’t even heard about Mako’s death until after he returned from a merc assignment. “The sarge probably enjoyed having a gunfight at his wake.”
“It did get lively.” After handing over a beer, deVries dropped onto the fancy-ass sofa.
Hawk nodded his thanks for the drink. “How’s the client?”
“He’ll be up and around soon. Until then, we’re stuck here with nada to do. Dammit, who ever heard of getting pneumonia in the summer?”
“Sucks to be him.” Hawk had gotten so fucking bored, he’d gone shopping yesterday and then remembered how much he hated that shit. But he’d found a hoodie the kid would like. If he ever got home to give it to him.
He’d wanted to buy something for Kit, too, but that would’ve been the ultimate in stupidity.
Hawk drank down some beer to clear the ache in his throat. “Gotta say, this might be a crap job, but the jet and helicopter are sweet.”
Especially the jet. It was why deVries had wanted Hawk, since he was rated to fly small jets. In Alaska, Hawk traded helicopter flying time with a pilot who owned a small private jet so they’d each get enough hours to keep current.
“At least you get toys. Fuck, but I miss my woman.”
“Never figured you for permanent.” The sadist was more of a fuck ’em and leave ’em sort. Or had been. “How long?”
“Closing in on three years.” Smiling, deVries said, “I started to fall when she told me I probably couldn’t find my ass with a flashlight and a search warrant.”
Hawk stared. The woman had balls, big brass ones.
“I knew I was in trouble when I found her defending a kid from a gang,” deVries chuckled, “and her crap-shit apartment had rodents, and she’d named the mouse François.”
Courage, big heart, sense of humor, naturally deVries had fallen hard. Fuck, and now Hawk was missing Kit, and she sure wasn’t his. She’d probably not even noticed he was gone.
Aric would’ve. But Hawk had talked to him, prepped him. With luck, he wasn’t taking it too hard.
“But not having Lindsey here means that out-of-country assignments suck ass,” deVries said.
Hawk blinked. “Why’d you take it? You’re senior enough to pick and choose.”
“The client’s brother is a friend of Simon’s,” deVries grumbled. “Simon asked me to do it as a favor.”
Simon owned Demakis International Security, which had a sterling rep in the industry. He was not only deVries’ boss, the two were friends. It was tough to refuse a buddy’s request…as Hawk knew.
Leaning back, deVries thumped his feet onto the coffee table. “He didn’t realize how long this would take. The briefing implied the bastards would act right away.”
Last month, Sanchez escaped an attempted assassination and discovered an old enemy had contracted a hit on him. Since the timing indicated someone on his staff was taking bribes, Sanchez hired Simon’s company to expose the traitor. He’d pay a bonus if the next attempt on his life resulted in enough gore to deter future assassins.
Hawk had a cynical feeling the enemy wouldn’t last long after this.
The problem was that the hitmen hadn’t made their move yet. “Now what?”
“As soon as Sanchez is up and around, we’ll go easy until he’s back in his routine. Then we’ll scatter bait for the informant. Leave the perfect opening to score a kill.” With a shake of his head, deVries added, “It’ll just take longer.”
Hawk grunted, tempted to say he was out.
“Sorry about this, Hawk. But I’m damn glad you were free. There’s not many I’d trust to have my back for a bait and switch.”
Hawk sighed. He and deVries had worked as mercenaries in different outfits. Been in fights together. He couldn’t leave a friend in the lurch.
Not even to get back to Aric and Kit.
Dammit, Kit. He should have stuck around and talked to her. But he was shit at talking. And face it, she’d panicked because of what he’d done. Who he was.
Eyes narrowed, deVries gave him a questioning look. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Hawk took a sip of beer. “Bait and switch?”
“Exactly. We bait the hook with what looks like an easy kill. Then the switch.”
“They get us instead.” Surprise.
With two tired children in the backseat, Kit was filling up her car at the Rescue gas station. It’d certainly been a full day. First, she’d bought a car. Happiness bubbled up inside her, and she gave the steering wheel a pat. The Jeep had more than a few dents, but it meant independence. And it was red too.
To celebrate her new ride, she’d taken the kids to the town park. While they explored the small playground, she’d stretched out her sore muscles. Frankie and JJ had no mercy when it came to teaching their forms of self-defense.
Thigh muscles could really hurt.
As the pump dinged, she put up the nozzle and replaced the cap on her Jeep’s gas tank. “All done, kids. It’s time to head home.”
“Hey, there’s Papá.” Regan pointed toward the other pump.
Kit turned to see Caz talking to the owner. Seeing her, the doc excused himself and strolled over.
He ran his gaze over her car and nodded. “Very nice choice.” Bending to look in the open back window, he smiled. “Regan, Aric. You two look as if you had a good day.”
“We were at the playground, Papá. It’s got a climbing thing now.”
Kit grinned. The mini-climbing wall let Regan get up to the tallest slide.
“Ah, that does sound fun, mija. And Aric, did you climb too?”
Aric waved his hands. “I roded a dinosaur.”
Caz’s brows drew together. “Do we have dinosaurs in Alaska?”
Snickering, Regan informed him, “No, Papá.”
“There were a batch of animals on springs that bounced,” Kit said. “One was a T-rex.”
“A tyrannosaurus. That was very brave, Aric.” Caz turned. “Kit. If you aren’t on a schedule, Regina, our municipal receptionist, left word she wanted to speak with you.”
“About what?”
“I’m certain Regina will tell you.” The doc smiled, waved at the children, and went back to talk with Zappa.
Huh. What in the world could Regina want?
Probably a medical paperwork problem. Kit slid into the driver’s seat. She could swing by now and deal with the problem.
Once downtown, she parked and walked into the building with Regan and Aric. “You two stay with me.”
Inside, she stopped short. Two men stood at the receptionist desk. Rough-looking, with gray hair and beards, they looked like PZs.
Aric squeaked and moved behind Kit. When she picked him up, he buried his head against her neck.
Before Kit could grab her, Regan ran forward. “Hey, Tucker. Hey, Guzman.”
“Regan.” Kit hurried forward, put a hand on the child’s shoulder, and angled to move slightly in front.
