Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1) (38 page)

Somehow, I manage to get my hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp.
He was awake?
The entire time?
Envisioning the pain he must have been in, the terror he must have felt, makes my stomach churn and I have to swallow down the bile threatening to rise.

“After the car rolled, I was disoriented for a minute, but when I finally came around, I realized the car was on a strange angle and my legs were crushed beneath the dashboard, my seat twisted around toward the window. I yelled out for Star, but she didn’t answer me. The position I was in, I could barely move, but I turned my head and looked over my shoulder…and I saw her…”

He trails off and it finally clicks, what he said…
”I know what it’s like to watch someone die.”

“Oh, my God.” I can’t stop the words from tumbling from my mouth as the tears well in my eyes, spilling in hot trails down my cheeks. He brushes them away with his thumbs and a sad smile forms on his face.

“She was still alive. I told everyone she died instantly, because I didn’t want them to know she suffered. She was crushed. I couldn’t see anything below the middle of her chest. I reached my hand out, searching for her, trying to touch her. I said her name, begged her to talk to me. Her eyes found mine, and I knew she knew she wasn’t going to make it…”

His voices breaks and he clears his throat, taking another cleansing breath before he continues. “I finally felt her hand, and I grabbed it. She squeezed back so lightly I almost didn’t feel it. I told her she was going to be all right. She shook her head and said my name. It was so soft, I barely heard it…and when she spoke…”

A sob breaks free, his chest seizing under me and I press my lips to his cheek, totally clueless how to comfort him.

“When she tried to speak, blood poured from her mouth…and I knew…I clutched her hand and talked to her, kept telling her we were going to be okay. I knew it was a lie. I knew she wasn’t going to make it, and I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t either. The pain was overwhelming, but I also realized I couldn’t feel my legs, and, knowing they were crushed and I should be feeling something, I knew…”

I can barely see him through my tears. I fight the sobs continuously rising in my throat, but eventually they erupt and he pulls me against him, bringing his face next to mine, pressing his lips to my temple. “Don’t cry, baby,” he murmurs, his hand slowly sliding up and down my back.

Don’t cry? He can’t be serious…

“She died within minutes. I watched the life drain from her face, her lifeless eyes staring at me…so, baby, I know it’s not exactly the same thing, but I need you to know, it does get better, easier. Eventually, you won’t see it every time you close your eyes. It never goes away, not totally, but it does get better.”

I want to believe him, want to believe the images in my head will eventually fade, but right now, that seems impossible. I pull back from his chest, now wet with my tears, and I wipe his from his face.

He gives me a sad smile and leans up to kiss me gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the beginning.”

I shake my head, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t tell me, why you didn’t tell your family.”

“Do you think I should tell them?”

“No.” I answer quickly, and he looks surprised at my instant reaction. “There isn’t any reason to put them through that, is there?”

“No, I guess there isn’t. But, I’m glad I told you, and I’m glad Dr. Cochran made me realize I needed to talk about it.”

The relief is apparent in his voice, and the darkness swallowing me lightens knowing he found a way to deal with whatever was going on with him, whatever was keeping us apart. “You like him then?”

He tenses under me and glances away before returning his eyes to mine. “Um, her, and yeah, she’s good.”

Her? His shrink is a woman?

The thought of him revealing everything about himself to someone else, when he couldn’t to me, is hard enough, but learning it’s a woman…

Rip my fucking heart out why don’t you?

I see the trepidation in his gaze, and I know he’s concerned with my reaction. As much as the gaping hole in my chest hurts like a bitch, I’m somehow rational enough to realize it doesn’t matter who he is talking to, as long as it means he talks to me in the end.

I swallow my jealousy and kiss him, letting my actions say what I can’t with words, that it’s okay. Pulling away, I smile and wipe the last of his tears from his face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He reaches over and shuts off the light and then I settle into his side, burying my face against his shoulder. “We still need to talk tomorrow,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my forehead, “but try to get some sleep. It will get easier, baby.”

I want to believe him. I want to believe that it does get better, but right now, when I try to close my eyes, all I see is Paul, and it is hard to believe that will ever go away.

I’m woken up by bright light hitting my eyelids. I cover my eyes with my hand, groaning in annoyance as I roll onto my other side, turning my back on the offending light.

Reaching out with my free hand, I search for Savage, wanting to bury my face against his chest and ignore the daylight. My palm finds a warm plane of hard flesh, but I realize immediately something is different. The smooth, hot skin is lacking the sexy light mat of hair Savage has spattered across his chest.

My eyes fly open and I lower my protective hand from my face to find him flat on his stomach, his arms tucked up under his pillow, head turned away from me.

Savage doesn’t sleep on his stomach. Ever.

I never asked him why. I guess it never occurred to me to ask, but now, seeing the vast expanse of skin and tight muscle, I curse myself for having not begged to see it sooner.

My fingers itch to touch every inch of him and I shift closer, watching the steady rise and fall of his back under my palm. I run it across his upper back and shoulders; he groans and shifts slightly. I still, waiting for him to wake, but he almost immediately returns to the steady breathing of sleep. Sliding my hand lower, I finally reach the sheet, resting across the middle of his back.

I don’t even think before I do it. I just slowly drag the sheet down, exposing the rest of his back, and the crisscrossing myriad of scars.

My breath catches in my throat and tears pool in my eyes. I cover my mouth to keep from making any noise that may wake him. I knew he would have scars. The number of surgeries he had was mind boggling, but looking at them, seeing the physical evidence of all the anguish he went through, makes it so much more real.

Wiping the tears from my face, I reach out and brush my fingertips down the biggest scar, running from the center of his back down to the base of his spine. The red, straight line is raised from the skin slightly and is smooth under my touch. Just as I reach the base of the scar, his body jerks and I yank my hand from his skin, whipping my head up to his face.

His wary blue eyes meet mine as he watches me over his shoulder. Propped up on his elbows, he stares at me, and I feel like a teenage boy who has been caught going through his dad’s porn collection.

“I…I’m sorry…” Words fail me as I try to construct a valid excuse for my actions.

He shakes his head. “No, don’t apologize. Go ahead.”

Even as he encourages me to go on, I see the trepidation and unease in his gaze. I know this can’t be easy for him, but the fact he’s willing to let me do it anyway gives me hope we can really work through whatever barriers he’d put up between us in the past. He turns his head and buries his face in his hands on the pillow.

I reluctantly reach out, gliding my fingers down his back again, from the top of his spine down to just above his ass. His body bows up into my touch and he releases a strangled groan.

“You okay?” I ask, leaning in so I can see his profile.

He nods, his eyes still clenched closed.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He shakes his head, but offers no verbal response.

The need to touch and know every part of him draws me into him again and I reach out, sliding my fingers across another scar, this one bisecting the large one down the center of his back. Craving the taste of his skin on my lips, I lean down, pressing them to the top of the scar and slowly kissing my way down its length.

He moans and arches into me again, his body tensing then relaxing as I move across each scar, giving it the same attention and treatment.

I don’t know how much of this he can actually feel, or if his reaction is just from knowing I’m doing it, but by the time I’m done, his entire body is shaking, his face still buried in his hands. He hasn’t spoken a word since he urged me to continue, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by fear as I remember the painful silence of his panic attack and his inability to talk to me.

I kiss my way across his shoulder blades until my face is against his arm. His eyes are clenched shut, and my fear spikes as I reach out and run my hand through his hair. “Baby, are you okay?”

Slowly, he turns his head until he locks eyes with me. I expect to see fear, but instead, I’m met with a fire and intensity I’ve never seen before.

“Savage?”

He rolls onto his side and pulls me in to him, pressing his erect cock against my stomach, the thin t-shirt I wear doing nothing to dampen the heat of his body. Burying his hand in my hair, he guides my mouth to his, capturing it in a devastating kiss that renders me completely immobile. There are no soft preliminaries. His tongue glides across my lips, begging for entrance. I comply and respond in kind, tangling with him as I push my body against his, wanting, needing to be closer.

Abruptly, he pulls away and rolls onto his back, scrubbing his hands down his face before pushing himself up and sitting back against the headboard. “Shit, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…I just…”

I slide my leg across his hips and straddle him. Capturing his face in my hands, I tilt his head back, forcing him to look at me. “Oh no, don’t you dare apologize for anything.” Reaching between my legs, I grasp his erection and brush the head of his cock through my wetness, eliciting a groan from him. “Baby, do you want this?”

His shimmering eyes hold mine momentarily before he presses his forehead to mine. “You know I do, but…”

“No,” I say as I shake my head, “no buts. This is about us, right here, right now. Nothing else matters right now, as long as this is what you want.” I press my mouth to his, letting him taste my need for him, my need for him make everything else disappear, even if only for a few moments.

Please, Savage…

His hands cradle my head and he consumes me with his mouth. I slide my wet pussy along his length, coating him in my arousal and letting him feel my need. When I rock my hips against the head of his cock, he groans into my mouth, moving one hand down and finding my clit.

I cry out at his touch, my throbbing clit needing the contact almost as much as my clenching core needs him inside me right now. “Savage,” I gasp, “please…”

His hand slides from my clit down to his cock. He positions himself at my core and I slide down.

She engulfs my cock, her wet, clasping heat gripping me and making my head spin off in a thousand directions. Inch by inch, she takes me into her, stretching her tight walls that clench around my throbbing flesh.