Hawke (Protective Hero: Noble Network #2)

Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

I n some weird way, Kinley thought Hawke was telling her a part of his story, referencing demons, and things he couldn’t unsee. She wondered more about him than herself. What is the weight he carries? The horrors he’s witnessed in his lifetime.

Her thoughts were everywhere. Big girls don’t cry.

Kinley remembered her father’s words when she was young. Father wanted her to be tough, but what he really wanted was a carbon copy of him—an emotionless person with no empathy. He’d groomed her from infancy to be a big girl, tough as nails, but on his terms. All she’d ever wanted was his acceptance. There were huge parts of her still so much like her father, but everything she’d fought for was for her. She pried his grip from her before law school and done it on her own. None of his money or influence had had any part of her life.

Kinley looked at the soldiers around the firepit. Each of them was strong and resilient on their own but as they came together, they were unstoppable. This is what family was, not hers. Not a lonely child in her ivory tower in a concrete neighborhood.

Kinley watched from afar at the banter, not wanting to change the dynamic. She leaned against the railing, sipping her hot toddy. She pulled the jean jacket around her shoulders and investigated the dark night, inhaling deep the crisp air. The laughs and teasing amongst the guards were infectious. She watched Hawke. He was usually so serious, but with them she saw a lightness. The light of the fire brought out the silver threading in his strands. The crease between his eyes was less deep. His eyes glistened, bringing more golden warmth to his dark eyes.

The flames licked up in the air and waves of heat mesmerized her. Kinley noticed subtle thickened areas under the ink of Hawke’s tattoos. His neck was less affected where there were subtle nuances, but the one on his upper arm was worse—the skin looked jagged, twisted, and raised.

All of it gave him multi-faceted layers. War was an ugly beast. It did not take away from his magnetism; he would be beautiful if it wasn’t for his sharp edges and brooding demeanor.

She rested her head through the rungs of the rail. Something in him called to her. That’s what had originally ticked her off. There was no man alive who could get her tongue tied and that was something she prided herself on. With him, she basically couldn’t control her word vomit when he was near. Hawke was prideful and loved his position in the security network, watching him showed more fault in herself not wanting a man taking care of her.

She blamed her father for her jacked up thought process, or the other dozen men in politics and the judicial system for assuming she was weak. Kinley leaned back on a step, and it creaked. She directed her gaze to Hawke again. This time, he was watching her. He’d either heard her or sensed she was there. She felt a sense of guilt spying on him. He patted the seat beside him and, as if he’d pulled her forward, she shot up and walked toward him. His gaze never once averted from hers.

As she drew closer, everyone stood or stepped aside. One minute there was laughter and heckling, then it was so silent she could hear a leaf drop. She lifted her chin, pulling her shoulders back, and waved to the onlookers. She recognized Jeffrey Richards and one of the other men who had guarded her in the beginning. Kinley nodded and introduced herself “I’m Kinley Lincoln, for those of you who don’t know me. Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand and shook theirs. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“We were biding time until you joined us,” Jett piped in. “You’re the reason we’re here.”

“It’s nice to meet everyone. I look forward to getting to know all of you. I’m sure you’ve already studied my dossier. If you have any questions, I’m an open book.”

“I’ll start.” Luca leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child.”

“Family?” Jett asked.

“I haven’t spoken to my father in years. My father was very controlling. But I was mainly raised by nannies and my mom, so we weren’t as close as most families are. My father liked his money more.”

“I’m sorry.” Jett said.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t be. I’m not. I’m much happier without my father’s interference. My mother and I are close.” She shook her hair from her face and lifted her chin a bit higher. “Genetically I’m his, but that is where it stops. Mom and I lived comfortably, but I wanted to earn my own way when it came to my education. I’m still paying off my loans, but they’re mine.”

“I assume it must be difficult without your mother, especially now.” Hawke asked.

“It’s the only thing I have that’s sacred.” Kinley dabbed at her eye. “She is a really kind person and I adore her.”

“You say your father is powerful. Do you think he’s behind this in any way?” Jeffrey Richards asked.

Kinley turned. “Uh… I really don’t know. I wouldn’t put past him interfering, but he has an ego—he wouldn’t hurt anyone who has his DNA. I mentioned he was controlling, right? My father, uncle, and grandfather prefer keeping their personal life under wraps—you can ask Forbes about their holdings or the New York stock exchange.” Kinley air quoted and rolled her eyes. “An all too familiar family mission statement, stay anonymous until it benefits the bottom line.”

“Do you think your father is into anything illegal? Or someone would try to get to you to gain access to him?”

“Unlikely. He’s a savvy businessman, but I don’t think he’d risk it.”

“Your father is Kingston Lincoln,” Jeffrey Richards said.

“Kingston Langley Artemis Lincoln the third,” Kinley said in a regal English tone.

Jett and Luca took off inside and Richards retreated down the stairs to his RV.

“What did I say?” Kinley dug her hand into Hawke’s leg.

“Break time’s over.” He chuckled. “I’m not saying anything more than we must check everything, all angles, when it comes to your security. We’ll investigate everything, the Triple D’s bike club, cases, your personal life. We work best through the process of elimination. Jett’s checking if there’s any connection between what happened at the courthouse, you, and the judge.”

“While you’re looking up my father, you might want to investigate his father and my uncle. Most of them have businesses in Europe and the northern hemisphere.”

“I take it you were a spoiled brat?” Hawke nudged her.

“I lacked nothing growing up except love.”

“We have a couple of things in common from our childhood.”

“Enlighten me.”

“We both grew up not being seen. Both lacking what we needed most. Your house and me in the foster system.”

“That’s horrible. I feel awful for complaining. Please forgive me.”

“No pity. It wasn’t all bad. No forgiveness needed. There were a few good ones, and the last foster family turned my grades around, helped me into the service. Appears both of us made the best out of our situations.”

“My father used to always talk about himself in third person, like he was bigger than life. I guess he was to a lot of his yes men. Same with Uncle Augie. He would fire anyone who would oppose him. It was a learned behavior—my grandfather was the same, and I’m sure his father was, and so on.” Kinley smiled and tucked a hair behind her ear. “There were moments with my father that were good. I hold on to those, but there was so much family drama it took over.” Kinley drifted off into old memories. “I don’t think he knew how to give much love because he never got it from his parents. He was born with a silver spoon and Grandfather was worse. The man was privileged, going all red faced at the littlest things. His pen didn’t work, his soup was too cold. No wonder my grandmother liked her martinis early and dirty. I swore I’d never be like them in that regard.”

“From what I see, you aren’t. I haven’t seen you drink martinis yet.” He put his feet on the edge of the firepit and laced his fingers behind his head. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“It’s so nice. I need to learn to relax a little more when my life gets back to semi-normal.” Kinley gazed into the night sky.

“You should. Life’s too short. Tomorrow’s never guaranteed.”

“Hawke, you lost a lot of friends in the service, didn’t you?”

“Too many to count. Roadside bomb and we could not get out of there. We had bullets and explosives coming from all directions.”

“Is that where you got the burns?” Survivor’s guilt?

He jerked his head and looked at her straight on. “Yeah. You see them?” He lowered his hands and shifted.

“They’re not noticeable, but I’m an observer by nature. My college roomie had severe burns and some of my cases did as well. It’s familiar. I love your tattoos.” She smiled.

He gave her a side glance. “I prefer the ink. It’s not a vanity thing. It fades the faces I lost that day. My shrink called it ink therapy.”

“Can I touch it?”

He looked at her like she had three heads, but no words came from his lips.

She moved closer . Was this survivor’s guilt? Her finger traced his skin before the words exited her mouth. “May I?”

The nearby patio slid open and they both moved apart.

“Found something interesting.” Jett sat on the edge of the couch and gave them a confused look. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Fuck no. Why would you think of something as stupid as that, Jett?”

“Don’t know, just a six sense. It’s a little tense around here at the moment.”

“Shut up. What do you have?” Hawke shot out of his chair and bowed his head, leaning on the rail.

“I ran a list of all the holding companies and business ties your father has and I came up with a list of about a hundred or more. That’s not including any of the family-owned businesses from your uncle and grandfather.” He handed her a stack of printed pages. “Do you think you could review these over and tell me your thoughts or what they are?”

“I suppose I could, but I don’t think I’ll be too much help.”

“I can look up anything I need on the internet, but since you have inside knowledge, we might get more.”

“I’ll do my best. Under normal circumstances, I’d stay far away from any of this, but if it helps us, it will pass time. I’m craving a project to bury myself in or I’ll combust.”

Hawke looked over his shoulder and shook his head.

Kinley tried her hardest not to look at his faded jeans and how they fit his perfect behind. The muscles under his olive-green shirt hugged his broad back; she inspected his taut muscles under the fabric. His worn leather kickers had a gun strap and pistol tucked under his pant leg. Hawke always had a weapon on him. His harness gun strap covered his back and nestled around his muscular arms, there were so many aspects to his aura, leaping off him. I’ve undoubtably failed miserably but to be drawn to him and his captivating presence. Hawke was like a sledgehammer. Her heart raced. Blinded by his stature, his physique, and tattoos Kinley was irrevocably screwed. I’m seriously screwed. He didn’t fit into any mold in society except his own. Hawke played by his rules and if we’re lucky to be in his circle, you’d have an ally for life. He spoke volumes without a word.

Kinley fiddled with the printed pages in her hands, but she couldn’t focus on anything but Hawke. Jett disappeared; when, she didn’t know. The energy cracked and quaked through her system. She believed with every ounce of her being it was the electricity surging back and forth from Hawke and herself. No matter how she denied the attraction, it was there. Even if the timing was not appropriate, she would have her day in court to tell Hawke her innermost wants. He had been acquiring space in her thoughts since she first laid eyes on him.

He looked over her shoulder, his eyes softer, the corners of his mouth lifted. Hawke sensed so many things. A complex man she was learning to greatly admire.

“You’d better head inside. I need to talk to Richards and walk the perimeter.”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“Because I said so. It’s late and you need to get your sleep. We rise early in the morning.”

Kinley shot from her chair. “You know, you can really be a big buzzkill sometimes.”

“I’ve been told.”

“Go inside. I’d feel better if you get some rest. And in the morning, if you play nice, we can go for a walk. But we’re not going tonight. It’s dark and I’m cranky. No small talk will change that.” Hawke stated.

“I’ll say you are cranky,” she said sharply, giving him a glassy stare. “Maybe one of the other guards will go on a walk with me?”

Hawke tromped over and pulled her close. “No one will walk with you but me. Got it?” She was breathless and, by his body language, he was saying more than his words.

“Okay, then in the morning we can go on a date,” she stammered. “I mean a walk.”

He shook his head as he walked off and pointed for her to go inside. “You wish you were the boss of me.”

Hawke said something under his breath she didn’t hear. She’d gotten under that thick skin of his. He was on the landing, making sure she went inside. All six foot four of his smoldering hotness was doing a number on her libido. She didn’t like being controlled by any man, but the terms might have changed with her bodyguard Hawke. Things were different, and she’d release a little bit of her power to him. This had the makings of a win-win situation. It was time to trust him.