“Do you see me hitting anyone?” My hands shook in anger.
Mom’s eyes left my face and moved past my shoulder. Confusion moved across her eyes before she turned back to me.
She didn’t need to tell me what she saw. Francesca was standing right behind me. She undoubtedly heard me lose my temper and saw me destroy my own table. I forgot about her in the heat of our argument. This was a side to me I hid from the world.
And now my secret was out.
I slowly turned around and faced her. She stood in her pajama shorts and tank top, her hair messy and her eyes full of interrupted sleep. I didn’t know what to say or do. All I did was stare.
Francesca returned the look with pity in her eyes. The pain in my heart was reflected back at me through her gaze. It was obvious she knew everything just from the look.
“Go back to bed.” She didn’t respond to commands very often, but I knew she would obey this one.
She turned around without arguing and walked away.
I turned back to my mom, feeling the weight of stress fall on my shoulders. Francesca knew my darkest secret. And now she knew I was a monster.
“I didn’t realize you had company…” Mom’s voice came out as a whisper.
I never talked about my personal life to my mom. We hardly talked about anything other than my piece of shit father. “She’s just a friend…”
“She’s beautiful.”
“I know.” I stepped away and headed to the couch. “You’ll have to take the sofa tonight.”
“That’s fine…”
“And I’m sure Dad will pick you up in the morning.” I didn’t bother keeping the bitterness out of my voice. “Let me grab a blanket.” When I walked by, she grabbed my arm.
“Hawke.”
I looked at her even though I didn’t want to.
“Thank you…for protecting me.”
Nothing I did or said would change the situation. We were doomed to repeat it until he died or she finally found the strength to leave. “I’ll always protect you.”
***
When I finally went back to bed, I hoped Francesca had fallen asleep. I didn’t feel like being interrogated about everything she saw and heard. Now I wish she hadn’t stayed with me all week. It was bad timing.
If there were somewhere else to sleep, I wouldn’t have returned to bed. But I had nowhere to go unless I wanted to sleep in my truck in the cold. After I pulled the sheets up my body, Francesca stirred beside me.
She stared at me.
I kept my eyes on the ceiling.
Francesca’s hand snaked across the bed until her fingers found mine. Then she interlocked them.
My hand was unresponsive but I didn’t pull away either.
Once she knew I would let her touch me, she slid across the bed until she was snuggled into my side. Then she wrapped her arm around my waist and rested her face on my chest.
I waited for the intrusive questions.
But they never came.
CHAPTER TEN
Francesca
The pieces started to fall together.
When I heard Hawke yelling from the other side of the apartment, I should have stayed put. But I was too interested to stay in the bedroom and remain hidden. I had to know what he was screaming about.
I had to know if he was okay.
Hawke didn’t need to explain anything. Seeing his mother grip her arm while tears still lingered in her eyes drew a picture for me. And everything Hawke screamed while he destroyed his own home told me it’d been going on for a long time.
I always knew something was off when it came to Hawke. He had a distinct darkness he couldn’t get out of. It lingered behind his eyes, growing with every passing day. It reminded me of my own hardships years ago.
We were the opposite sides of the same coin.
But I knew Hawke well. Just from his stiff body language and intimidating aura, he didn’t want to talk about what I witnessed. He didn’t want to be questioned about something he’d been hiding his whole life. He didn’t want to have a conversation, even if it was gentle and understanding.
So I didn’t ask anything.
Hawke would talk to me when he was ready, not before. When it came to expressing his emotions, he had to do it his own way. He was like a steel door that couldn’t be broken down. The only way to get inside was if it was unlocked.
I knew Hawke would open up to me. I just didn’t know when.
***
“How was Hawke Motel?” Marie asked at work. She turned on the blender to make a frappuccino so we both fell silent until it was done screeching. After she pulled the container out and finished the drink, we continued the conversation.
“Good. Surprisingly clean.”
“Really?” A mischievous smirk stretched across her face. “I figured it would be dirty—real dirty.”
I threw a coffee bean at her. “Knock it off.”
“Come on. Did you at least see anything?”
“Like what?” His underwear drawer?
“Getting a peek of him in the shower.”
He dropped his towel on me, but I was stupid and didn’t look. “No.”
“Did he get a peek of you?”