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I tapped the beautician on the arm.
“Sorry, but you need to stop that.”
“Uh, ma’am?”
I pulled out the toe separators and dropped them onto the chair I’d just vacated. How was it possible for me to be genetically related to Clarice and Odette? I’d taken time off work and spent hundreds of bucks to come here this weekend, not to mention being indirectly responsible for Kellan’s broken jaw, and right now, I wished I’d burrowed under the comforter and hidden for a week instead.
“Where are you going?” Odette asked.
“Somewhere else.”
“You can’t do that. The stylist hasn’t fixed your hair yet.”
“Watch me.”
If they wanted to bitch about my life choices, they could do it when I was out of earshot.
* * *
“Is that a new thing?” Hawk asked. “Five white toenails and five pink ones?”
The white was the base coat.
“Don’t mention the toes.”
“Okay.” He studied me for a few moments. “Do you need space or a hug?”
“I… I don’t know.” I’d been trying to resist the lure of the Xanax for the past two hours. “How was the fishing trip? Did you catch anything?”
“Nah, I couldn’t see the point. Who has time to gut fish today? I didn’t even bait the hook.”
“You didn’t murder Stu, did you?”
“Tempting, but no. I asked him a question about his favourite golf course, and the asshole talked for an hour straight. I just tuned him out the way I used to tune out gunfire when I needed sleep in a war zone. What happened in the spa? Do we have any bodies to bury?”
I choked out a half laugh, half sob. “I left my gun at home.”
“I have a spare if you need to borrow it.”
Hawk wrapped me up in his arms, and I laid my head against his shoulder. He made a better fake date than I’d ever imagined he would. If he hadn’t been there, I’d have jumped on the ferry to the mainland by now. Hell, I’d have swum across the bay if necessary. Just for a moment, I imagined that this thing between us was real, that Hawk was the caring, doting boyfriend and he’d be my emotional support commando for longer than five minutes.
“It’s okay.” He rubbed my back with soft, soothing strokes. “Families can be difficult to deal with. You know my buddy Smith?”
One of Hawk’s partners in crime, quite literally. “Yes?”
“Every time he gets back from visiting his folks, he has to spend a day on the range, blasting out his frustration.”
“He doesn’t get along with his parents?”
“His father smacked him around for years, until he was big enough to fight back.”
“What about his mom?”
“His mom?” Hawk snorted. “When he was six, his mom left him at an airport.”
“By accident or on purpose?”
“She claimed by accident. But he was basically baggage to her, so who knows?”
