Retribution (The Protectors 3)

Hawke wasn’t a huge guy, but his bearing was. Everything about him screamed danger even as he sat casually in the hard waiting room chair. But I knew I was the only one who saw it because he was so relaxed and at ease that it seemed like he belonged there…with us. I already knew him to be a couple inches taller than me and I guessed he had at least fifty pounds on me. And if his bulging biceps and broad chest were anything to go by, it was all muscle. Tribal tattoos covered his upper arms and disappeared under the navy blue T-shirt he was wearing. His jeans fit snugly across his thick thighs and he was wearing a pair of black steel-toed boots.

I hadn’t missed the burn scars on the right side of his face the night he’d broken into my place, but in the light of day, I finally had a chance to study them. The raised, pink flesh covered almost his entire right cheek and jaw and went down his neck which had me thinking the scars might continue lower. The disfigurement should have made him more frightening, but there was something innately beautiful about them. Like they were proof that he’d lived through something that very few people could.

I continued to steal looks his way as I took in the rest of him. Strong, straight nose, wide, firm lips that I knew would be softer than they looked, glittering, unyielding dark blue eyes and closely cropped black hair. The crow’s feet around his eyes had me guessing he was older than me by at least ten years which put him in his mid-thirties. I also couldn’t ignore the gold band on the ring finger of his left hand.

I was still studying him when he suddenly looked at me and I tore my eyes away from him. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I examined the thin, utilitarian carpet beneath my feet. I was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening so I did what I always did when I needed to escape and began focusing on the things in the waiting room that no one else probably even noticed. The shadows cast by the harsh overhead lights, the angles and planes of the furniture in the room…

“Mr. Travers.”

I snapped out of my reverie as soon as the nurse called my name and I quickly jumped up. But I didn’t make it even a step before Hawke’s fingers closed around my lower arm, his touch sending sparks along my nerve endings at the same time that a cold fear settled in my gut. I forced myself to turn to look at him.

“I’ll wait here,” he said.

I nearly sighed in relief as I began to plan my next steps. I’d assumed he would insist on accompanying us and I’d have to try to find a discreet moment to signal the hospital staff for help, but all I had to do was make it a couple more minutes until we were free of his line of sight and then I’d tell the nurse to call 911. I managed a nod, but when I took a step forward, he didn’t release me and I held my breath.

But with his next words, all my plans died an instant death.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing…don’t,” he said calmly before glancing briefly at Matty. His steely eyes returned to mine and then his mouth was near my ear, his warm breath skittering across my skin. “Unless you want everyone to know he’s not your kid.”

Chapter Three

Hawke

Tate didn’t move after I’d spoken, even after the nurse called him for the third time. I released the hold I had on his arm, ignoring the zaps of energy that were surging through my fingers and up my arms and placed my hand on his lower back to give him a little shove forward. He finally got moving, but I didn’t miss the way his breathing had ratcheted even higher than it had been after I’d dropped down in the seat next to him at the check in desk a few minutes earlier. As he walked away from me, I noticed Matty’s tired eyes on me where his chin was resting on Tate’s shoulder. He gave me a small wave and I had to steel myself not to return it. I wasn’t here to make friends with the kid. I was here for one thing and showing the little boy or his father any kind of compassion would make what I had to do all the harder.

But as Matty’s eyes stayed on mine as they neared a doorway leading out of the waiting area, I couldn’t stop myself from lifting my hand slightly to acknowledge the child. He smiled just before Tate carried him through the door and I felt my heart constrict painfully as I sat back down in the chair. I could have gone with Tate for whatever tests the kid needed to have, but I’d held back because I didn’t want to know what was going on with him. I had no room for pity.