Everyone chuckled.
“You’re starving.” Hawk’s eyes filled with guilt. “I should have fed you before I put you to bed.”
“I was too tired to care or eat.”
Lyric pulled bowls out of the cabinet.
Mason joined her in the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of red wine.
Hawk picked up her bag. “Where are your meds? You should take them after you eat.”
“In the bag.” She went to get them, but he beat her to it and handed her the two bottles.
“Go sit at the table and rest.” Hawk took her bags back to their room. It seemed so strange to think of it like that already, but she went with it because she wanted this to be her life so badly.
Lyric and Mason were already at the table and had placed two bowls at the empty seats across from them.
Lucky took her seat.
Lyric smiled from across the table. “Is Lucky your real name or a nickname?”
“Real. My father was Irish and loved to tell stories about leprechauns and fairies and say he had the luck of the Irish. He called me his lucky charm.”
“Sounds like he had a good spirit and whimsical side.”
“The only side I can remember was the back of his hand across my face and the point of his blade across my skin.” She didn’t have to hold up her arms for them to see her scars. They were visible all over her exposed skin. She couldn’t hide her past, so why not be real about it.
Hawk took the seat beside her and dropped his hand on her knee. “He can’t hurt you anymore and no one else will ever again.”
“Any updates on the case?” She asked, even though she didn’t really want to know.
Hawk shook his head. “No. I’m meeting Jase tomorrow morning to get an update. Tonight you sleep, knowing you’re safe here and not alone anymore.”
Lyric reached across the table and put her hand over Lucky’s.
She checked the impulse to pull her hand back.
“I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t know about your father.”
“It’s okay. Turns out, I’m not lucky at all.”
Hawk brushed his fingers down the back of her head. “I am, because you’re here. And you are because you survived.” Hawkkissed the side of her head. “Eat, sweetheart. You’ll feel better. Later, I’ll help you take a shower.”
She ducked her head. “Yeah. I haven’t made the best first impression.” She pushed her oily braid over her back.
“You may not be at your best, but you’re still gorgeous.” Hawk squeezed her thigh. He was always touching her.
She hadn’t known how good it felt to be caressed and held the way Hawk loved on her.
Lyric passed her a roll. “I’d kill to have hair as thick as yours.”
“It’s so long it gets in the way a lot. I usually keep it in a ponytail, but with my shoulder…Hawk braided it for me at the hospital.” She touched the bandage on her head. “I haven’t actually looked in a mirror, but I imagine I’m black and blue and scraped up.”
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” Lyric consoled her. “You’re alive. That’s what’s important.”
“Any new memories come back to you?” Mason asked.
Hawk pointed his fork at his cousin. “Let her eat in peace. You can interrogate her later.”
