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I feel Hawk’s body tensing once again. He exudes all this energy, a mix of positive and negative, bound to create a storm of epic proportions.
“All actions have consequences, right?” he growls at his president.
Suddenly, there’s movement from the bed. I notice that Mary has opened her eyes, and she is looking around with fear obvious on her face. I haven’t seen her like this since the last couple of days I was here.
“Mary,” I rush to her, but it is too late. I watch as in slow motion when her mouth opens and she starts screaming off the top of her lungs.
I jump and land on my knees by her side, my hands grabbing one of hers, gently running my fingers over her skin.
“You’re okay, Mary,” I whisper to her, hoping that she’ll allow herself to listen. There is no point in raising my voice as that would only incite her more.
She pulls her hand away from me. Her stance is that of a wounded animal. Her eyes are going all around the room without actually focusing on anything or anyone in particular. That is until her gaze falls on Hawk.
“Hawkeye,” she yells out. She sits up and swings her arms around, like she is trying to get to him.
When I try to stop her for fear she’d fall out of bed, she lifts her arm and punches me right in the eye. The pain from it is instant, and I see stars, but I refuse to give up.
“You’re okay, Mary,” I try again.
That’s when Hawk decides to get closer to the bed. When Mary lifts her arm to hit me again, he takes action.
“No.”
It’s only a two-letter word, but the tone of his voice makes it powerful enough to stop her.
“Hawkeye,” she whimpers and drops the arm.
“I’m right here,” he assures her, although, it is doubtful that she understands it, or even recognizes that her son is now a grown man.
“My little boy,” she mumbles before turning her head back to me. “You’re going to watch my boy after school?”
With a sore eye and tears running down my face, I nod in confirmation. She always asks this.
“I will, Mary.”
“He is a good boy,” she continues. “He won’t give you any trouble.”
“Who is Hawkeye?” Hawk himself decides to ask her.
A puzzled look takes over her face. She has no idea despite the fact that his name is on a constant loop in her head. Then, just as sudden as she woke up, she falls back against the pillows and closes her eyes.
I press a hand to my face over the spot she hit. I will need to ice it before it turns black and blue. I jump back in surprise when her hand comes up once again. This time, she blindly tries to pull me into her. Deciding not to fight it, I rest my head on her chest, which is what she seems to want. She never says another word again. Instead, she runs her hand over my head in a monotone pattern that threatens to put me to sleep. The only thing stopping me are the two men witnessing the entire thing.
Hawk stands up to face his president. Danger lingers in the air when neither one of them says a word. From my position on the bed, I can only see Hawk.
“The club will always come first,” he starts talking.
My heart sinks at hearing those words. Every time I think there is a small chance of surviving this, I get a reality check.
“But my mother will always be just as important to me, Prez. You know how much she means to me.” His voice sounds almost defeated when he speaks. “Seeing her suffer like this is hard.”
His eyes never waver as they stare to the other side of the bed where his president stands. His face is set in stone. I get a sense that he is at peace with what he just said. Like it was something he needed to get off his chest.
“If you’re implying the club didn’t support you through this transition, I will shoot you on the spot.”
I gasp in shock at hearing the words. The man doesn’t sound like he is joking either.
“And if you think the stripper can now solve all your problems, you deserve to die with her.”
