It’d been a long time before he managed to talk at all after that.
Hawk shook his head. He had tats and scars. Ugly voice. Bad attitude. Hell, the only women who liked him were the ones who obsessed over violent men and rough sex.
Best he stay far away from the fragile woman who was Aric’s mother.
He was halfway to his house when Bull’s voice boomed across the courtyard. “Hawk, get your ass back here.”
Keep going? Wouldn’t work. Bull would just come after him—and talk.
Why did people think they could fix things with talking?
With a grunt of exasperation, he walked back, his gut tightening. At least, Kit had seen him before. Wouldn’t be shocked by scars and tats.
He climbed the steps and scowled at his brother. “Aric should be with his mother. Without me.”
“Nope.” Bull shook his head. “Grayson said Aric might still need you for security, even with her here.”
Hawk eyed the door. Aric might need him. Kit didn’t, and he sure wasn’t into scaring her. “He’ll be fine.”
Bull laughed and slapped his back. “C’mon, let’s go in.”
Hawk shot him a glare that should’ve fried his ass.
If anything, Bull’s smirk widened. “If nothing else, the beer’s great.” The owner of Bull’s Moose Brewery would say so, of course.
There was no winning this battle.
With a pissed-off growl, Hawk stepped inside and assessed the room. Good lines of retreat to the windows and doors. Three people in the living area—Frankie, Kit, Aric.
Dark-haired, curvy Frankie, who was Bull’s woman, sat at one end of the sectional.
With her splinted right arm in a sling, Kit sat in the middle with the kid standing and leaning against her legs. Still slender, but she’d gained some weight and was no longer hollow-cheeked. An inch or so shorter than Frankie, she might be five-five. The brown hair with sun-lightened streaks was like the coloring of a golden eagle. So fucking pretty.
In the compound the night of the rescue, she’d been bruised, battered, and beaten, but not broken. No, she’d roused enough to help get the other women to leave, had told them, “Go with Frankie, you idiots.” She’d fought off unconsciousness and ordered Hawk to care for her son. The woman had a solid core of strength.
But she wasn’t all steel. When she smiled at her son and her brown eyes turned soft, the warmth was enough to melt an Alaska glacier.
Hawk didn’t get a smile.
Then he did. A hesitant one, as if she wasn’t sure how he’d react. “Hawk, thank you for taking care of Aric. I didn’t realize that you’d be doing…well, everything.”
“Everyone helped.” And he would be doing nothing now the kid’s mother was here. A prickly ache started up under his ribcage.
“We have goodies, everyone.” Frankie set a tray of cookies on the coffee table, and Hawk almost laughed when Aric’s gaze snagged on the sweets.
The kid didn’t speak, dammit. It would be a fine day when the boy felt comfortable enough to ask for something he wanted.
Hawk glanced at Kit to see if she’d noticed her son’s desire.
She had. Her busted ribs were obviously painful as she leaned forward, snagged a cookie, and handed it to Aric. Her lips were pressed tight as she leaned back.
Hawk stared at her. Rather than asking for help, she’d hurt herself to give her son a treat. Felt like something he’d do, but it didn’t feel right when she behaved the same way.
“Yo, bro. Try this.” Bull handed over a bottle of beer.
Hawk checked the label. Bull’s Moose Brewery. “Break-up Ale?”
“Yeah, the new one.” Bull took a seat beside Frankie. “You’ll like the hops.”
Hawk stayed standing. He wouldn’t be here for longer than it took to satisfy his brother. If the women thought him rude, too fucking bad.
“Break-up. You named a beer after something sad?” Kit asked.
“Break-up in Alaska is when the ice on the rivers melts and breaks into chunks.” Bull smiled at her. “Around here, it basically means spring.”
“Oh. I heard the lieutenants talking about it and didn’t understand.” Kit shook her head. “Most of us from the Texas compound didn’t know anything about Alaska.”
“It’s a long way from Texas. Why’d the PZs from there come up here?” Bull asked.
Hawk leaned a hip against the couch and sampled the beer. Not bad. Nice and hoppy. Light on the tongue. It was odd that neither Kit nor Aric sounded Texan.
“The Reverend said Alaska had less rules and fewer people to interfere with what he wanted to do.” The corners of Kit’s mouth twitched up. “He complained a lot about the police chief here. Your brother?”
“That would be Gabe. He enjoyed ruining Parrish’s plans.” Bull grinned.
Beside Kit, Aric had finished his cookie and was nodding off. Face soft, she brushed a hand over his hair. “I better get him to bed.”
Any fool could see she’d never manage to move herself and the kid off the couch without a hell of a lot of pain.
Hawk stepped forward and lifted the boy, draping him over a shoulder with a hand under his ass. In the last three weeks, he’d learned Aric didn’t wake up once he was asleep. At least, not if he felt safe.
He glanced at Frankie. “He got a bed?”
“Beside Kit’s in the downstairs guest room.”
“I’m going to make an early night of it too.” Kit struggled to slide forward on the oversized sectional. It was like watching a fawn struggle out of a snowdrift.
Hawk held out his free hand. “Grab on. Go at your own pace.”
She froze.
Hell, what had he been thinking? She wouldn’t accept help from someone who looked like him. Sure wouldn’t touch him.
Even as he started to pull his arm back, she took his hand. Her hand was cold and tiny, but as he closed his fingers around hers, he could feel her callused skin. Even three weeks of being laid-up hadn’t eradicated the evidence of hard work.
Her wary gaze met his, and then, using him as an anchor, she slid forward on the couch. After rising to her feet, she released his hand. “That helped. Thank you.”
Damn. Unexpected pleasure swept through him. She’d let him assist.
Frankie shook her head. “I have trouble extracting myself from this sectional, too, and I don’t have broken ribs. We’ll find a smaller chair for you to use.”
“No, it’s fine,” Kit protested. “I—”
“There’s an extra armchair in Mako’s quarters.” Hawk turned toward the guest bedroom with Aric and ignored Bull’s surprise at his words.
So, yeah, maybe he didn’t like change and didn’t want strangers touching the sarge’s things. Maybe he’d been pissed off when his brothers let Gabe’s officer, JJ, stay there. However, Kit needed a chair she could sit in. He was just being practical.
In the guest bedroom, Aric’s cot was next to the bigger bed. Same setup as the kid had used in Hawk’s bedroom.
Stepping around Hawk, Kit flipped the covers back.
After laying Aric down, Hawk slid the kid’s shoes and socks off. “He just had a bath,” he muttered.
“Thank you.” She tucked the covers around her son. “I can see he’s gained weight. Has a suntan. And he isn’t terrified all the time.” When she looked up at Hawk, tears filled her eyes. “You’ve taken good care of him.”