The Strong Silent Type (14 page)

Pity and loathing blazed in Hawk’s blue eyes. “You don’t get it, do you, Danny? We’re taking you in.”

The smiling face turned malevolent. “What’s the charge?”

“Burglary. Murder. All sorts of things. You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent—” she began to recite as Hawk turned him around and snapped handcuffs around his wrists.

Tierney looked at him in disbelief. “Hey, at least let me get my clothes.”

“There’s an orange jumpsuit waiting for you at the precinct,” Hawk assured him grimly. “Just your size, too.”

His words were met with a barrage of curses. This, Hawk thought, ushering him out of the apartment, was more like the Danny he knew.

“So, what is your type?”

Hawk stopped dead in his tracks. It had been a long day. He’d grilled the man who had once been his friend in darker times—to no avail. Tierney had used his one phone call to summon his lawyer, confident he’d walk out a free man at the end of the day.

He was still in his cell.

The case would be built. Solidly from everything that Hawk could see. They had enough on Tierney to put him away for a long time. Prodded further by Mulrooney, Phil Sherman had given them the address of the warehouse where the stolen goods were being stored until they could be properly fenced.

Ironically enough, it turned out to be the same warehouse he and Danny had once used for shelter. It was a small world and at times, it felt as if the fit was very, very tight.

Hawk looked now in her direction. The office was supposed to be empty. Only half the lights were on. “I thought everyone was gone.”

“You thought wrong.” Getting out her purse, she closed the bottom drawer with her foot and stood up. She threw the purse strap over her shoulder. “We broke the case. I thought you might want to get a drink and celebrate.”

He thought of Danny. Each of them had crawled out of the life they’d found themselves in. But Danny’s choice had taken him to an even darker side by some accounts. Hawk wondered if the man had
ordered the execution of the two men they’d caught earlier.

Had Danny done it himself, or just ordered it done?

“I don’t much feel like celebrating.”

“Okay, then we’ll get a drink and talk.” She saw the look he gave her, the one that warned her to back off. She wasn’t about to listen. “And don’t tell me you don’t feel like talking because you do.”

He felt tired, drained and definitely not up to this. Hawk slid his jacket from the back of his chair. “Taken up mind reading?”

“Taken up partner reading,” she told him. “Tierney looked as if he thought you and he were more than just passing acquaintances.”

“Maybe we were,” he allowed. “Once.” And that was as much as she was getting out of him, he thought. She had a habit of taking everything and using it against him, undermining him.

Standing close to him, Teri looked up into his face. She didn’t need lighting to see what was there. “You saw yourself in him today, didn’t you? Saw what you could have become if you hadn’t become a cop.”

He didn’t want to encourage her. The shrug was an accident, a slip.

“Well, I don’t think you could have.” The fierceness in her voice surprised him. “It’s not in you to be dishonest.”

He looked at her sharply. Where did she get off, acting as if she knew him inside and out? “You have
no idea what’s ‘in’ me, Cavanaugh, so don’t pretend you know me.”

She wasn’t about to allow him to sweep her aside. “But I do. You could have gone down the same path your parents did. Most kids of flawed parents wind up having the same flaws. You could have become like Jocko, but you didn’t. And you could have gone Danny’s route, but you didn’t. That says a lot about your character.”

Character—now there was a nice, antiseptic description. It covered myriad conditions. “You have no idea what I did in the past.”

“No, I don’t. So tell me.” He said nothing. He was going to be stubborn about this, she thought in exasperation. “Okay, don’t tell me, but tell someone. Tell a goldfish. Open up to something, Hawk. Don’t let things eat at you. You’re a good man and you do good every day. Accept that. Make peace with it. Stop blaming yourself because you couldn’t save your parents.”

She’d struck a nerve he hadn’t realized was exposed. His temper flared. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That has nothing to do with it.”

“Okay.” She folded her arms in front of her. “So tell me what does.”

He blew out a breath and sank down at his desk. Maybe she was right. Maybe talking to someone would help leech out this darkness inside of him, at least abate it a little.

“I met Danny when I ran away from the last foster home the system put me into,” he began.

Teri sat down again and listened to him as he talked, keeping quiet even when she wanted to comment, to offer comfort. She knew he had to get this all out, and if she interrupted him in any way, he’d stop.

So she listened. And waited. Until she was certain he was finished. And when she was sure he was, she said, “I’ve only got one question.”

“Only one?” Hawk laughed shortly, shaking off the somber blanket that had enshrouded him. “I’d thought you’d have a dozen. Okay,” he said gamely, “what’s your one question?”

She embellished the question she’d first asked him when he walked back into the squad room after personally taking Danny to booking. “Are wild-eyed Latin girls your type?”

At first he couldn’t believe what he heard and then he laughed. Really laughed. It felt good.

“Y
ou’re not answering,” she pointed out a few moments later when he made no attempt to respond. She was smiling at him, but this nervous, uncertain fluttering went on in the pit of her stomach. And it was growing by the moment. “Are wild-eyed Latin girls your type?”

From across the length of two desks, Hawk studied her for a long moment. “Actually, no, they’re not. Not anymore.”

“Oh?” She told herself she was being stupid, taking heart from that. But she did. The nervous flutter heightened. “And do you have a type?”

Hawk paused, giving her question serious consideration. “Type” had never mattered to him. Looking
back, he realized that the women he’d shared a night with had all been dark-haired.

Slowly, his eyes raised to her face. And he felt that strange, familiar tug. The one Cavanaugh could legitimately claim as her own. “I never thought about it before, but yes, I guess I do.”

She could feel her pulse joining in the race. Damn, but the man excited her. Just by drawing breath. “And that is?”

Just the barest hint of a smile curved his mouth. “Blond. Medium height. Intelligent. Annoying.” Each pronouncement emerged separately. He paused, looking at her significantly. “That sums it up.”

She rose from her desk, aware that his eyes were moving along her body. Aware of the way her body was responding to him even at this distance. The man had powers.

“Does it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

Teri rounded the desks, coming to stand beside his. Beside him.

“So, you want to have that drink now?” Hawk shook his head. “Dinner?” Again, he moved his head from side to side, his eyes never leaving her face.

She felt confused, and a whole lot of other things that had nothing remotely to do with logic. And all the while, anticipation built within her, making demands as it grew.

“Then what?”

Hawk rose slowly from his chair. He loomed over
her, fighting the temptation to take her here and now, in this room bathed in semidarkness.

“Come home with me,” he said simply.

They were words he’d never thought he’d hear himself say, words he never thought he’d need to say and yet, there they were. He wanted her. Needed her. Despite all the pep talks he’d given himself, all the logic he’d tried to exercise over his reactions to her, only one thing prevailed. He needed her.

At least for tonight.

Because tonight he didn’t want to be alone with his memories of the past. He had shut them away in a tight box a long time ago, but seeing Danny today had brought everything back to him, had shown him the road not taken, the road he might have taken if he hadn’t been strong enough. And he didn’t like what he saw. Didn’t like the fact that only a trick of fate had kept him from ending up that way.

“Okay,” she said slowly, watching his face for signs of regret. She took her cue from him, tried not to think about what she was feeling herself. She couldn’t tackle something so complicated right now.

There was no moon tonight, she noticed as she followed behind Hawk’s car in her own. It added to the feeling of desolation. Was that why he’d asked her to come? Because he felt lonely?

It should have mattered to her, but it didn’t. She didn’t care why he’d asked, only that he had.

She made one pass through his complex, then
headed out into the street again, looking for parking. She found a space on the block that ran along right outside. This hour of the night, all visitor parking within the apartment complex was taken.

As she walked along the mist-dampened path to his third-floor, single room, she could hear her heels clicking as they struck the pavement. Could hear her heart echoing the beat in her ears.

If she had an ounce of sense in her head, Teri told herself, she would turn around right now, get into her car and drive home. Home, where things were safe. Home, where she wasn’t required to risk her heart.

She kept walking.

Hawk was in the doorway, waiting for her. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said he looked anxious.

She would have been right. He was. As soon as he’d parked his own car, he’d stood there waiting, wondering. “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

I did. Three times.
“Parking’s hard to come by,” she murmured, and then she looked up at him. “Why, did you want me to change my mind?”

A funny smile she couldn’t quite place played along his lips. “It would make things easier.”

“What things?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her, couldn’t answer her, because he hadn’t allowed himself to label what he was feeling. Not for her. And he certainly wasn’t about to
label the nameless apprehension that lurked inside of him, growing bigger by the moment.

All he knew was that he didn’t want to get attached.

What he wanted didn’t seem to matter, not in the face of the desires pulsing inside of him.

The moment Teri walked into the apartment, he swept her into his arms without warning, pushing the door closed strictly as an afterthought. Hunger, fueled by emotions he’d struggled to keep chained, had grown to giant, unmanageable proportions.

He didn’t know how much longer he could rein himself in.

As he pressed hot, ardent kisses along her neck, making her head spin, Teri struggled to keep a cool head. She couldn’t let him know how much she wanted this, how much she wanted him. How she’d been able to think of almost nothing else except being with him like this again.

If Hawk knew, if he suspected, that would give him all the cards, leaving her with nothing. She’d have to rely on him for everything, every morsel, every crumb. And if he walked away, she would cave.

That couldn’t happen.

“What things?” she breathed, asking again.

“Damned if I know,” he rasped, his breath curling along her heated skin.

Clothing was eliminated with breathtaking speed as eagerness took charge of the reins and plotted the course for them.

She hadn’t realized just how much she’d ached to have him touch her, caress her again until just now. Her whole body felt as if it vibrated, desperate for release, yet desperate for the sensations that led to the climax, as well.

Though the distance wasn’t far, they barely made it to the bed. He wanted to take her where she stood, to sheath himself inside of her and grab on to the comfort of that joining with both hands, pretending for a moment that was all he needed. That the world was a good place as long as he could be in it with her.

He knew he was attaching a great deal of importance to this and he shouldn’t be. He knew how quickly things could fall apart, how quickly they could be blown apart.

But knowing changed nothing. Something inside of him needed this thing he’d denied himself for so long. Beacons stood alone. Were alone. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

His mouth flew all along her body, drugging her, making it hard for her to think clearly. This wasn’t like Hawk at all. The last time he’d assaulted her senses, but there hadn’t been this rush, this fire that threatened to consume them both.

She tried to get him to slow down, but even as she braced her hands on his shoulders, even as the words rose to her lips, they melted away. His mouth did things to her that erased everything else in its path. Certainly logic.

His tongue took possession of her. The explosion that wracked her body was not long in coming. She arched into it, into him, then fell back on the tangled covers, exhausted. Only to have him begin again.

Everything inside of her went wild.

The next explosions came faster. Small, large, they converged inside her body until she thought she couldn’t take the ecstasy any longer, not without completely expiring.

She wanted more, always more.

And then he was over her, taking her. She wrapped her legs around his torso, arching so that he could drive himself deep into her. She resisted the urge to bite down on his shoulder as he took the last shred that comprised the essence of her and left her all but numb. And very, very contented.

She didn’t think that her heart would ever stop pounding.

“What was all that about?” she asked when she finally summoned the strength to form words without gasping for air.

He lay over her, hardly aware of his surroundings beyond the way her breasts rose and fell, brushing against him as she breathed. He didn’t remember ever feeling happy before. Was that what this was? he wondered. Happiness? He had no frame of reference to draw on.

“Hmm?” Hawk raised his head, surprised at how much effort the simple action required. “Did I do it
wrong?” Resting an elbow on the bed, he propped his head up and looked at her.

“I know what you did.” She laughed. “You just seemed a little more—” Teri hunted for a word “—inspired this time.”

“Maybe you inspire me.” Things were going on inside of him again, things he would need to examine eventually, but not yet. Not yet. Taking a strand of her hair, he wrapped it around his index finger slowly. “Why do you have this need to turn everything into an interrogation?”

She struggled not to wiggle beneath him as her body reacted to the pressure of his. “I’m not interrogating, I’m trying to understand.”

“Well, don’t.” It was friendly advice, but with a warning. “Some things don’t hold up well under scrutiny.”

“What does that mean?”

He smiled into her eyes then. He found himself wanting her again. Damn, but she could raise the dead. “It means that I’m going to have to kiss you again to shut you up.”

This time she did move beneath him. And felt his desire for her growing. “Is that the only reason you’re going to kiss me again?”

He shifted slightly, tantalizing her with each movement. “I plead the Fifth.”

She didn’t want to know things anymore. She just wanted to be with him. “You don’t have to plead at all.”

But he did. He had to plead for mercy, at least in his mind, because he was completely at hers and that was a source of great concern to him. But not now. Now, he just wanted to lose himself in her again. To take slowly what he’d snatched up so quickly before. To savor it this time because tonight was all there was.

Now was all there was.

It was the one lesson in life he’d learned, the only true lesson that life had to offer. He’d learned it the hard way. Nothing lasted. Ever. And it was best to move on rather than allow yourself to be run over, to allow yourself to be devastated.

But all that was for dawn’s early light. The night was made for passion and he had it to spare.

He had no choice.

She gave him no choice.

He had to switch partners before it was too late for him.

If it wasn’t already.

He could feel his resolve slackening, could feel himself slipping quickly. He couldn’t afford to let that happen, couldn’t let himself become weak.

Besides, he had nothing to offer her. She was light; he was the complete absence of it. She came from a large, happy, well-adjusted family. His had been the last word in dysfunctional. They didn’t belong together and the fact that he wanted them to be together
only brought home to him the fact that he needed to get out now, before he couldn’t anymore.

Sitting in front of the steel-gray desk, he watched the chief of detectives’ face as the man reviewed the paperwork on the desk in front of him. He couldn’t help thinking that Brian Cavanaugh was the spitting image of his older brother, Andrew.

Finally, the man looked up at him. The expression on his face was incredulous. “You’re asking for another partner?”

Ordinarily, the situation was reversed and it was his partners, for one reason or another, who were asking to bail out. But this was different.

“Yes, sir.” It was either that, or transfer out of the department entirely.

Maybe going back to Homicide was the answer. Hawk debated the possibility.

Brian Cavanaugh set down the lengthy form he was looking over. “Would you mind if I asked why?”

Hawk wasn’t about to get into it and he didn’t like lying. That gave him no options. “It would just be better all around.”

It was obvious by his expression that the chief of detectives had his own opinion on the matter. “You know, I put you together with Teri for a reason. Not because she’s my niece,” he said firmly, forestalling any debate in that direction, “but because I had a feeling that she could make a difference for you.”

Hawk drew his eyebrows together. “Excuse me?”

The chief’s manner was calm, soothing. He’d been
known to quell more than one tempest in his time, but Hawk didn’t feel like being analyzed. He bit his tongue, waiting.

“You’re a damn good detective, Hawk, and I’m happy to have you as part of my team, but I see a great deal of potential in you that isn’t being tapped.” Hawk struggled not to shift impatiently in his chair. “A man keeps things bottled up inside of him for years, there’s no telling when he might go off.”

“I’m not planning to detonate, sir,” Hawk answered as politely as he could under the circumstances. “At least, not if I can change partners.”

Brian looked down on the page again. Hawk had cited irreconcilable differences as the reason for the request. He began to place the page in his desk drawer. “Tell you what—why don’t you sleep on it?”

The look in Hawk’s eyes stopped him from closing the drawer. “I don’t have to sleep on it, sir. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Resigned, Brian reluctantly nodded. “All right. But I think this is a mistake. Teri’s the first partner you’ve had who didn’t come in to me to complain about you.” He waited, but there was nothing. “But if this is what you want—”

“I do.”

Brian checked the roster. “I’m switching you with Toby Mitchell, effective immediately. You’ll be teamed up with Alan Williams. I’ll send through the paperwork right away.” He made a notation on the
form, then looked up at Hawk. “Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”

Hawk shrugged. “Either way.” Although he would have preferred not to have to face her. Luck was riding with him. He got his wish.

“I’ll handle it,” Brian said. His tone was far from pleased.

Hawk didn’t have to open his door.