Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Tildy,” her mother said, partially shocked but also managing to sound simply irritated at her daughter’s tantrum. “She’s not your family. We are. And you-”
“You never loved me,” Tildy accused. “Never.”
Her father entered the room, looking first at Tildy then at his wife.
“Deirdre?”
Her mother pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “It’s fine, Blake. Everything’s fine. Just sit down for dinner. I’ll handle this. Matilda is just having one of her outbursts.”
Tildy laughed, startling both her parents this time. ‘One of her outbursts,’ as though she had so many, or even one. “I’m done with this,” she told them. “I’m done with you.”
“Matilda!” Deirdre snapped. “You have nowhere to go. Like it or not, we are your family and-”
“You are not my family,” Tildy argued. “You never were. Isabel is my family; Hawk is my family.”
Deirdre’s eyes narrowed to slits and she advanced on Tildy. Any time previously, Tildy would have scurried away, but she held her ground this time, bolstered by fury. “Your father and I have had enough of your antics, young lady! You cannot choose your family; you simply deal with what you’ve been saddled with!”
“Deirdre!” Blake chastised.
“Enough!” Tildy’s mother cried. “This is enough! You throw that away!” she demanded, and, spying the medal Tildy had put on, reached out to her. “And take that off!”
Tildy stepped out of her mother’s reach and pushed her hand away. Infuriated, Deirdre took another step forward and slapped Tildy hard across the face. Tildy gasped and collided with the table behind her. She held onto the box though, refusing to loosen her grip.
“Oh, this is too much,” Blake declared. God knew he hated any kind of drama.
Tildy righted herself and glared at her mother. “I’d hit you back,” she seethed, “but I’ve always been better than you.”
With that, she turned, opened the front door, and slammed it behind her. She had her purse, but the keys were useless. The Mercedes wasn’t hers. She took a few halting steps toward the driveway and then broke into a run. When she reached the sidewalk, a familiar sight filled her vision and her breath caught in her throat.
Across the street, Hawk waited. She crossed the street and flung herself at him. He held her tightly in his arms, the way he had so many times before. Tildy wept into his chest. When she finally got herself under control, she stepped back and looked up at him. “How long have you been waiting?” she asked, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
He grinned down at her. “Forever.” Tildy half-laughed, half-cried again. Hawk put one arm around her and guided her toward his Harley. “You ready to come home, Angel?”
She found all she could do was nod. She climbed the bike after him and put one hand on his shoulder, the other gripped the treasured box between them. Hawk gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb. Tildy didn’t bother to look back.
Chapter 54
Hawk laid in bed with Tildy sprawled on top of him. Her hair spread out over his chest and he breathed her in. “Wasn’t sure you’d choose me,” he told her.
“Liar.”
“I hoped, but I wasn’t sure. I made a lot of mistakes, Tildy. I treated you like shit. You deserve better.”
“So treat me better,” she replied.
He laughed at how easy everything came to her: Hope, faith, love.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “I’ve lost a lot of people,” he told her. “Some of them are gone because of me.” Tildy placed a comforting hand on his chest. “I was never scared on tour,” he admitted. “Not once. Not even during the ambush. It’s not heroic; it’s just the way it was. I’ve never been afraid to die. But coming home...”
“In the army, they teach you how to kill the enemy. They never teach you how to kill a friend. I went in pissed off, and I came out terrified. I couldn’t be around anyone for the first few weeks. I sent Raina money, but I never visited. I was scared I’d hurt her or the kids. It didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t help thinking it. My old man was no good to anyone that needed him, and I was worse than that. I’d killed a man that needed me, a man I’d bunked with and drank with. Jason would be here now if he’d lived. He would’ve stayed with us.”
Hawk ran his fingers through Tildy’s hair. “I gave Shooter my gun those first few weeks.” He had never told anyone about that, and, to his knowledge, Chris had never mentioned it to anyone. “I’m not proud of the dark hole I fell into.”
Tildy propped herself up on her arms and looked into his eyes. “But you’re better now. It’s not like that anymore. You came back.”