Page 57 of Rayne

Hawk doesn't stop though, ripping me to shreds. "You also lease your apartment. You're essentially safeguarding yourself again because if something goes wrong, you're not responsible for it. It's a cushy little barrier, protecting you from the real world. God forbid you take action and control of your life. Fuck sake, you're still in the same city as you've lived your entire life. There's a giant world out there and you're here. The most exciting thing you've done for yourself is go to that key party. And it wasn't even your decision."

I look up, eyes wide with realization and alarm. "How did you know that?" I ask him quietly.

"Because it's YOU," he says loudly with frustration.

"You're a fucking psychopath," I mumble quietly.

Hawk snorts. "At least I'm on a path."

"I think what Hawk means is we just want to see you happier. Stop making everyone else happy and live in the moment for once. Take some risks," Jett replies casually.

There's a horrible feeling in my stomach, exhaustion creeping over me. "So, I'm pathetic," I murmur, clinging to those words.

"Take what you want from this conversation, Rayne," Hawk responds firmly. "But no one can force you to change. If you want to live in a happy medium, risk-free place, then that's your prerogative. Jett and I got handed a shitty start to life, but we didn't just settle. Spend your time watering your plants and filing paperwork if it pleases you."

Tears slip away, my hand quickly brushing them away. "You just want me to live the life you want for me. What next? If I choose to change careers, will I need your approval? What if I want to date someone? Are you just going to chase them away? Threaten them?"

Hawk laughs, an edge of darkness to it. "If they are wrong for you. But maybe you'll see that one day when you're forced to face the consequences of your decisions."

"You're supposed to make mistakes," I murmur. "That's how we learn."

"That's how you get hurt. That's how you lose things," he says sharply. "Mistakes are fine but when you go into things blind, that's when it's a problem."

More tears fall and finally, I push my chair back, determined not to let them see me cry. I storm out of the room, heading to the staircase. I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm doing—I tell myself it's time to go home but when I reach Hawk's bedroom, I'm so exhausted mentally that I can't even do it.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, processing their words, feeling nothing but hurt. I hate that they have put that in my mind, but I hate it even more that I think they are right.

I'm stuck, living a routine life, going about my day to day activities. I have no goals or aspirations left, no real purpose or reason to exist. This is it—I've got nothing left to achieve.

Sighing, I lay down, resting my head on Hawk's pillow. It smells like him, and I wonder if I do as well. As angry as I was, I'm so ashamed of myself for hitting Hawk in the elevator. I've never laid hands on someone before.

Some time passes before I hear the sound of footsteps approaching, I close my eyes, not ready to face either of them yet. They get closer, coming into the room. I listen carefully, hearing them stop next to the bed.

"I know you're not asleep," Hawk says coolly. "Your breathing is all wrong."

"I'm not pretending to be," I mumble back.

He snorts. "Could have fooled me."

"Well, you did it," I just respond, ignoring his comment.

"What's that?"

"You finally broke me," I whisper. "You got your wish."

Hawk falls silent and I'm tempted to open my eyes, but I don't. The mattress sinks as he sits down next to me. He puts a hand on my hip, his touch forcing me to look at him.

He peers down at me, calm. His face is no longer hard and when another tear starts to roll down my cheek, he wipes it away with his thumb.

"Good," he murmurs softly, fingers dancing along my body.

I scoff under my breath. Hawk pushes my shoulder, rolling me onto my back. Crawling over me, he hovers, inching our faces closer. He's still only dressed in his boxers and I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

"Now you can do something about it," he adds, leaning down to kiss me.

I kiss him back, my hands cupping his face. It's more gentle than I've come to expect from him, his soft lips brushing over mine carefully. I deepen the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth as I desperately try to find his. He responds warmly, caressing them together as he moves one of his hands down the side of my body.

When he starts tugging at the waistband of my skirt, I break the kiss, lifting my hips. He reaches for the zipper at the back of my skirt as my fingers quickly unbutton my blouse. Hawk pulls the black material down my legs, taking my underwear with it. I kick them off, pushing onto my hands as I let my blouse sleeves fall down my arms. One by one, I lift my hands so I can remove it, tossing it to the side of the bed. He quickly makes work of my bra, unclasping it and rolling it down my arms.

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