“Aric couldn’t stay with you?” Kit frowned. If Bull didn’t like little boys, he wasn’t good enough for Frankie.
“Aric still won’t stay with anyone but Hawk.” Bull ran his hand over his shaved scalp. “Whenever we tell him it’s all right to stay with one of us or Frankie, he just shakes his head, and we get, ‘Mama said.’”
“Did I?” Much of what happened after Nabera and Obadiah started beating her was still a blur. The way Hawk had saved her, she remembered that. And his rasping baritone. “…we’ll take her to the hospital. Get her help.”
The memory of his voice was like a magic wand, a way to banish nightmares.
She remembered his hard blue eyes and how they’d softened when he looked at Aric. How he’d held her son so carefully, so gently. And she’d asked, or maybe told Hawk to take care of Aric. Had she done the same with her son? “I’m guessing I told Aric to stay with him? That night?”
“You did.”
“I knew Aric was clinging to him, and that was why Hawk was the only one to bring him to visit. But…still?”
“Still. Because Hawk saved you and carried Aric out, Aric feels safe with him.” Frankie added, “Doc Grayson, that psychologist friend of the guys, said it might take a while before Aric gets over the need to be with Hawk all the time.”
Her poor son. Anger and guilt roused inside. She sat on the edge of the bed, simply wanting to cry.
“Oh, Kit.” Frankie sat beside her and put a gentle arm around her shoulders. “He’s getting better. He wants Hawk within eyesight but doesn’t have to be right next to him anymore. With you here, he’ll relax.”
“Okay. Right.” Kit tried to push the sense of helplessness away and concentrate on what Aric needed. Wanted. “I know he loves flying with Hawk.”
“Oh yeah.” Bull shook his head. “He’ll be pushing for his pilot’s license when he hits seventeen.”
That… Kit choked. “Let’s not go there.”
“Way to scare a mommy, deficiente.” Frankie glared at Bull, then smiled at Kit. “Why don’t you take a nap? Hawk and Aric should be back after supper.”
When Kit nodded, the two disappeared, their low voices coming from the living area.
Hawk and Aric. The way it was said came out smooth from repetition. As if the two were a pair, a family. It was a little unsettling to hear.
But she could only be grateful to Hawk for caring for her boy and making the trips to bring him to see her. He rarely spoke, and she’d thought it was merely because he was quiet or didn’t like people.
Her stomach sank. Could the man, maybe, resent her for saddling him with a child who clung to him like kudzu?
No matter. It was fine if Hawk disliked her as long as he was kind to Aric. She blew out a breath and started the slow process of lying down without hurting her ribs.
For her part, she’d do everything she could to get on her feet, find a job, and resume caring for Aric.
And even if Hawk felt a bit aggrieved at her for disrupting his life, she’d be forever grateful to him.
In clean clothes after a quick shower, Hawk dropped onto his living room couch. Stretching out his legs, he sighed. Felt good to be home.
He could hear the kid upstairs in the bedroom putting on the clothes someone had left on the bed for him. Everything else of Aric’s had been moved to Bull’s place.
The kid might take a while, but dressing was something he’d mastered.
Getting clean was another matter, especially on days like today. At the campsite, while Hawk had loaded the client and his gear into the floatplane, Aric had played in the mud.
Hell, more like he’d rolled in it. He’d even had it in his ears. It’d taken two times with shampoo to get Aric’s hair back to blond rather than brown. But he’d pass a mom-inspection now.
Speaking of moms…
Hawk rose to get his phone from where he’d dropped it on the kitchen island. Yeah, Bull had texted that Kit was there, and they’d already had supper.
That worked out since the kid was already fed. After landing the floatplane at Lake Hood, Hawk—with Aric—took the client and his stuff to the Anchorage airport for a flight back to the Lower 48. The kid had tried his best to be helpful, so Hawk had treated him to a burger and fries at the Arctic Roadrunner.
Aric trotted down the stairs and swung by his bowl on the shelf to deposit a new rock. He wore the bright blue T-shirt with a dinosaur on it JJ had bought him, jeans, and red sneakers—ones with Velcro rather than shoelaces.
“Good job dressing,” Hawk said and was pleased Aric no longer looked surprised at getting approval. “We’re going to Bull’s. He probably has cookies.”
That got an enthusiastic nod.
No words though. Aric still avoided speaking, if possible. Hawk ended up talking more than normal just to counter the kid’s silence.
But, in all reality, quiet was good. Since Aric was so obviously fragile, Hawk was damned careful around him.
Hawk wouldn’t be triggered into acting like his own father. Like a monster.
They walked out the deck door and down the stairs. Summer solstice was a little over a week away, and the sun was hours from setting. The grass in the courtyard was a vivid green and getting tall. He’d have to mow it tomorrow. Maybe do some weeding in the garden since it was one of Aric’s happy places. The chickens would appreciate the greens.
As they crossed to Bull’s house, Hawk stopped. “Got news.”
The boy froze.
Hell, hadn’t meant to scare him. Hawk knelt. “Your mom’s at Bull’s.”
Aric’s eyes went wide.
“Go on.”
“Mama.” The word came out loud enough to be heard, then Aric raced onto Bull’s deck and through the door.
A clear cry of happiness came from Kit.
Pretty obvious the kid had no doubt of her love.
Must be nice.
Hawk leaned a hip against the deck railing. They didn’t need him in there, and fuck knew, the woman would be more comfortable without him around. Most females found him terrifying—and he’d killed Kit’s husband. Yeah, most people wouldn’t consider the death of an abusive asshole to be a great loss, but she’d married the guy. Must’ve loved him at some point, right? He’d seen women return to the men who’d pounded on them.
So, after speaking to her once in the hospital to reassure her that he’d watch her son, he’d kept his distance. He would drop Aric off at the door of her hospital or rehab room and wait down the hall.
Now she was here—and he’d simply avoid her. She’d be comfortable with his brothers who weren’t scarred and tatted and who managed to conceal their deadly natures far better than Hawk could.
People liked Gabe—and being a cop probably helped.
Even huge as Bull was, the guy liked people, and they flocked around him.
Caz, with his penchant for knives, did his killing up close and personal and was a unique kind of deadly. Hawk far preferred to shoot from a distance, either in a helicopter or as a sniper. Yet, despite the knives that Caz still carried, the doc could charm just about anyone. He cared about people, and it showed.
Hawk, though, didn’t trust anyone except his brothers, and people could tell. Even if he wanted to talk—and he didn’t—speaking didn’t come easy. Mako had thought Hawk’s raspy voice was probably from screaming. Hawk had never told him it’d been fucked up since his father hit him in the throat with a skillet for making too much noise.