Page 34 of The Maverick

She drew in a slow breath. “You broke something open.”

“I broke nothing,” he corrected. “You gave it.”

Her lip quivered, but she nodded.

When her hands relaxed, he reached for a bottle of water from the side table, cracked the seal, and pressed it into her palm. “Drink. All of it.”

She did, throat working with each swallow. He watched until the bottle was nearly empty.

“Good,” he murmured. Then leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I want you someplace safe. We’re going down to the vault.”

Her brow furrowed. The vault was a top security safe room below the storage basement beneath the club. Strict security measures controlled entry and exit to the vault. It was called ‘the vault’ as at one time, it had been one.

Hawke rose and pulled her gently to her feet, wrapping an arm around her back. “You need time to come down. Safely. Away from the noise, the stares.”

She didn’t argue.

Hawke guided her through a private corridor that bypassed the main rooms entirely. When they reached the freight elevator nestled behind a coded steel door, he tapped in the six-digit access and waited as the lift opened with a soft hiss.

She stepped inside with him, still quiet, the echo of her submission lingering on her skin.

As the elevator descended, he brushed a strand of damp hair from her cheek. “You did well, Nessa.”

Her throat worked. “I feel like you turned me inside out.”

He cupped her cheek. “You were. But you’re still standing.”

The elevator doors opened into a narrow hallway lined with reinforced doors and touch-panel access points. He led her to the final one, keyed in the override, and stepped inside with her.

The room was silent, softly lit, and built for calm—wide bed, plush couch, mini kitchenette. No windows. No distractions. Just safety, layered in concrete and steel. The kind of room that could survive a war.

Vanessa blinked, gaze slowly adjusting.

Hawke reached down and then curled onto the couch, pulling her into his lap with practiced ease. She melted into him. Her legs folded under her, her cheek rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and held. No commands now. No structure. Just warmth and pressure and quiet.

After a while, she whispered, “You brought me here to keep me safe.”

“Yes.”

“But you stayed with me to make sure I came back.”

He looked down at her. “I always will.”

Vanessa didn’t answer. She just curled in tighter, letting herself rest in the silence.

And for the first time that night, Hawke let his guard down just enough to press his mouth to the crown of her head and breathe her in—safe, whole, and his.

Gavin joined them, carrying a secure laptop. “I’m sorry to interrupt—by the way Vanessa, you were amazing tonight—but I need to show you something.”

“Did you see him?” asked Vanessa.

“Rest,” Hawke softly admonished her before turning to Gavin.

“Charles? Yeah. We had eyes on him the whole time. Creepy little bastard didn’t blink for five minutes straight.”

“Pattern?”

Gavin tapped the screen and rewound the live feed. “From the moment you started, he never looked away. He adjusted his stance a few times, but the eyes never moved. Didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t drink.”

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