Page 80 of Hawk

I laugh. “Now that’s the million-dollar fucking question.”

Tessa

Two months later

“Mom?” Sam sticks his head into my bedroom. “Why are you still in bed? It’s almost nine.”

I push myself up and lean against the headboard. I’m exhausted–completely wiped out. “I think I’m coming down with something. Don’t get too close.”

“Okay, but it’s Sunday, and we usually get ice cream on Sundays.”

I smile. “Actually we get groceries on Sundays and ice cream is just a perk.”

He pads his way over to my bed and takes a seat at the foot. I watch as he picks at the threads of my comforter. “Why do you think Hawk left us?”

My eyes squeeze tight at his question. It’s been months since Hawk was last here, and I thought Sam would have gotten over it, but I guess not. Croy has been stepping up, but I don’t see the same connection between Croy and Sam as I saw between him and Hawk. I’m not sure what it was about Hawk, but to Sam, he could do no wrong, even leaving me the way he did without so much as trying to compromise. I guess since I couldn’t make that move, I was no longer worth any of his time. I thought Hawk wasn’t a user, but maybe I was someone to keep him company while he was here for Rose.

“I don’t think it was easy for him, buddy,” I lie.

“Croy said it’s because Hawk didn’t care enough to stick around. Do you think that’s it? Do you think if I asked him to play with me more than he would have cared enough to stay?”

I’m unaware that Croy and Sam have discussed Hawk. “First of all, Croy doesn’t always know what he’s talking about.”

“But Croy said that he cares, and that’s why he’s always been there for me.”

Something has changed in Croy since Hawk was here. He’s been more vocal about wanting to spend time with Sam. I’ve never denied him access to my son because there are times I need Croy. I can’t expect him to put a dent in his life to help me out, and then deny him time with Sam when he wants it.

“Croy is right, he’s always been there for you. From the time you’ve been born he’s made sure that I’ve had a job and that he was there for you when I needed him to be. You already know this.”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

I watch as he continues to pick at the comforter. I know that this conversation isn’t over, but I let him take the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

“Is it bad that I would rather have Hawk here than Croy, even though Croy is the one who’s been here for me?”

I can feel the sting at the back of my eyes, and it breaks my heart knowing that my son wants what he can’t have, and the only way to give him that is for me to face my demons and return back to a town that took so much from me.

“Of course not, buddy. It’s no one's fault that you enjoy someone more than another person. But you don’t want to hurt Croy’s feelings, so let's keep that little bit of information between you and me. Okay?”

His lips go in a thin line, but he drops his head in agreement. He slides off my bed. “Are you getting up now?”

“Yes. Let me jump in the shower so we can start our day.”

“Yes!” He jumps up, pumping his fist into the air. “Ice Cream.”

Tessa

Walking up to my apartment after dropping Sam off at school, I see a piece of paper nailed to my door. My steps falter as I look around. It’s been months since Phil has shown his face–not since that night when he was banging on my door. When I approach, I see that it’s a notice of sale. The property owners have sold the complex, and the new owners plan on tearing down and rebuilding townhomes. Current residents need to vacate within thirty days. If we're interested in owning not renting a townhome, then we’re to contact the property management to set up an appointment.

Lovely.

I take the paper and stuff it in my purse before unlocking the door and heading towards my room. I don’t have time to think about what this means for Sam and me. The only concern that I have right now is that I grab my uniform and make it work on time.

As soon as I pull my car into the employee parking lot, I see Martha shutting her car door. “Tessa, baby.” Martha gives me a big smile, but I’m in no mood to return it. My head is killing me. I’m not feeling any better than I was a few days ago and this latest stress isn’t helping. “What’s wrong, baby?” she asks as I approach her. “You’re looking a little pale, sweetie.”

“Stress.” I pull out the paper from my purse and hand it to her. Her brows tighten in a frown.

“My lord,” she mumbles as she continues to read. When she looks up, her face is full of sympathy. “What are you going to do?” She hands me back the paper, and I stuff it back in my bag.