Page 52 of Natalie's Nighthawk

“Twelve years.”

“And then you just clicked, I’m guessing,” pondered Miss Letty.

“Never thought I’d be grateful a couple of kids went missing,” Graham joked kissing Natalie’s hand again. The table erupted in laughter.

An alert tone sounded, and both Graham and David reached for their phones. The other Nighthawks went quiet. Graham looked up at his men after reading the message and nodded. They all stood, well-practiced in the routine of being called out. Graham apologized to Natalie for having to leave, and after ensuring that her father would see her safely home, he kissed her a little too hard and a little too long and begrudgingly followed the rest of his Nighthawks out the door. He’d never felt so reluctant to go out on a mission.

Chapter 18

Fivedays.It had been five days since Graham and his Nighthawks had been called out from Jolene’s. Five days and not a word from Graham, which was unusual. He always called and texted numerous times a day if they couldn’t see each other. She couldn’t go to him because it was a busy time at school getting ready for all the holiday celebrations.

And still, no word from Graham. Her own texts and voice mail messages went unanswered.He’dghosted her.

Yet she knew that Graham wasn’t the type to play those games, even with his reputation from high school preceding him. But that scene with her family on Thanksgiving had been ugly. Maybe he decided she wasn’t worth the drama.

Weatherwise, the last few days had been just as miserable as Natalie had felt. An unceasing deluge of rain had blanketed the region. It could have either been sunrise or sunset with the low clouds and curtain of rain draping the area in dreary darkness.

Graham’s radio silence was odd. Of course, it was.Stop second guessing yourself.Besides, they had made plans for this weekend. Since she had Friday off from school, Graham was taking her to his cabin in the UP for skiing. A long romantic weekend, just the two of them. It was sensible of her to find out if they were still on for the trip. So, with her skis and an overnight bag packed in the trunk, she’d made the decision to go to him.

The drive was taking longer than ever, the torrent of rain forcing her to drive slower as the windshield wipers fought furiously to clear the water away. The trip giving her more time to get lost in her head and allow her misgivings to take root.

The sincerity of his feelings towards her had seemed real enough. The look in his eyes just before he kissed her?the heat and desire she saw there surely couldn’t be faked. She needed answers. So here she was, in her car on a Thursday afternoon, driving to the Nighthawk complex to get them. White knuckling the steering wheel while trying to see the road through the sheet of rain, she second-guessed every moment, every decision.

Natalie hated that her past insecurities were making her question everything. Including this trip to find Graham. A weird shiver of foreboding made her spine tingle. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. But five days was a long time. Especially since they hadn’t gone a single night without talking to each other for the last month.

Finally, she wove her way through the Nighthawk grounds to Graham’s cabin. Pulling up in front, she turned off the engine and eyed the cabin. There was a dull light shining through the front window, which she took as a sign he was home.

Taking a deep breath and praying she was making the right decision, Natalie climbed out of the car, the deluge instantly soaking her to the skin. She slammed the door behind her and raced up the porch steps to the front door. She hesitated a moment before knocking. Shivering, she waited for Graham to answer.

After a minute of waiting, he still hadn’t come to the door. Maybe he was at the main part of the complex teaching classes. But she thought they were usually done by this time of the day.

Maybe he was sleeping. That was probably it. She raised her hand again, knocking louder this time. She cupped her hands together, blowing warm air into them to warm herself as she rocked back and forth. Waiting. When there was still no answer, she tried the door handle.

Feeling like an idiot when it turned. Instant warmth greeted her, and she sighed in gratification. The room was shadowed, only a small lamp shone next to an armchair. Embers glowed in the fireplace from a recent fire. And it was quiet. Unnervingly quiet.

Stepping further into the great room, she was startled to see the shape of someone sitting on the couch. Sighing in relief after recognizing him, she moved closer. “Graham,” she said softly. His stillness was eerie.

She stood in front of him, and still, he did not move, only stared into the embers. Natalie glanced around the room; several surfaces held empty beer bottles. On the coffee table in front of him, she spied two bottles of whiskey. One was empty, laying on its side, the other nearly empty. Something was very wrong with the scene in front of her.

She turned back to Graham and knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. “Graham.”

Slowly, he blinked his bloodshot eyes and directed his gaze on her. Natalie had a feeling he wasn’t really seeing her though. His once-bright blue eyes were now dull and lifeless. “Graham, are you okay?”

He answered. One terse word. “Fine.” Then focused back on the fireplace. His voice was gravelly, like he’d been chewing on glass. After staring at him for another minute without seeing a spark of recognition, she stood and headed toward the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, she filled it with water and went back to Graham.

She held the glass out to him. “Here. Drink this.” He didn’t move. She held it in front of his face willing him to take it. Sighing deeply, she gave up and placed it on the coffee table.

Kneeling back down between his legs again, she tried to garner his attention. “Graham? What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” His answer was slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Shocked to see him in this condition, she searched the room again, appalled at the sheer number of empty bottles. She knew he enjoyed the occasional drink, but never to this extent. His hair was greasy and unkempt, as if he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. The stubble on his jaw almost a full beard. His clothes were wrinkled and had numerous spills dotting the front. He looked absolutely awful.

“Yup,” he finally answered popping the p sound.

“Why? Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer.

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