Page 54 of Natalie's Nighthawk

Natalie squatted down in front of him and began picking up the larger pieces of glass. In his inebriated state, he couldn’t comprehend the hiss of pain that slipped from her lips, let alone notice the drops of blood that seeped from the slice in her hand. “What do you mean, no?”

“Juss what I said,” he slurred, stumbling to the kitchen. Halfway there, he forgot where he was going and stood swaying for a moment until it came back to him. Booze. Need more booze. He staggered into the kitchen, opening random cabinets.

Natalie followed him into the kitchen dumping the glass into the trash. She grabbed a paper towel, wrapping it around her hand before turning to the coffee maker. “I’ll make some coffee. Maybe that will help sober you up.”

He growled at her. He didn’t want coffee. He wanted more mind-numbing alcohol. He pushed his way past her, she grunted as her stomach hit the counter. Ignoring the annoying woman in his kitchen, he stalked to the hutch behind his dining table. He was pretty sure he kept some alcohol in there.

“Come on, Graham,” the tiny bird twittered at him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from his quest. He wrenched his arm out of her grasp hard, causing her to lose her balance. She stumbled before catching herself with the hand wrapped in paper towels on the table, her barely discernable whimper not registering. He growled at her to go away before returning to his search.

“Graham,” she admonished. “I only want to help.”

He turned on her so fast he was momentarily dizzy. “Help?” he shouted. “Help? How can you possibly help? You’re too much of a distraction, a hindrance. I don’t need your kind of help. I need you gone!” Each word out of his mouth had grown progressively louder until even the sound of his own voice made his head pound.

Ignoring the tears that were building in her eyes, he gripped her arm tightly and dragged her towards the front door.

“Graham, please,” she cried. “You’re hurting me.” Even in his inebriated state, he knew that was wrong. He dropped her arm instantly.

“Just leave, Natalie,” he growled.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looked down at her, the emerald color in her eyes swimming in tears. He needed to remain impassive to her waterworks. “Because if it wasn’t for you …” he hesitated, knowing somewhere deep down inside there wouldn’t be any coming back from his next words. They flew from his mouth anyway. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have failed. You distracted me and muddled everything. I need to be completely focused on the job, or people die. And when my brain is preoccupied with constant thoughts of when I can get inside of you again, I can’t do the job.”

He thrust his hands into his hair, pulling on the strands, allowing the twinges of pain to pacify him. “I knew getting involved with you was a bad idea. But fuck if I could stay away. And now …” He turned away from her. He didn’t want to face his failure to save that kid again.

“I got sidetracked. It shouldn’t have happened. And it can’t happen again. I can’t have you distracting me from what’s important. Christ. You’re no better than those sluts in high school who used to flutter around me hoping for a good lay.” He heard her shocked gasp but blocked it out.

The words were harsh, but they were loose, flying through the air like daggers. They’d spilled from him in his drunken haze, and he couldn’t erase them. He glared at her. Willing her to just leave. He needed her to leave. His rage was uncontrollable, needing an outlet. Like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He had a tenuous hold on it, even as his subconscious screamed at him to stop.

“I … I need to focus to be able to do my job.”

“How’s the alcohol helping with that focus?” she scoffed.

“A lot better than just painting through my emotions,” he mocked. He sneered down at her, unwilling to allow the tear-filled emerald eyes to move him even as a tenacious voice begged him to shut the fuck up. Shit, his head hurt.

But at least he was feeling something besides failure and helplessness. The rage overpowered all the other messy emotions. Graham needed to get Natalie out of here before it tainted her too.

“Just get the fuck out of here, Natalie. I don’t fucking need you here.”

He shot his hand out, intending to reach for the door behind her. She flinched. He saw it. Saw the color leach from her face. Saw the fear flash through her eyes. He froze. His inebriated brain, trying to tell him something. But he ignored it, opening the door behind her instead.

David stood on his porch. He took in the scene before him. Saw Natalie’s fearful posture with Graham a towering rage looming over her. His eyes narrowed on Graham. “What the fuck, Graham?” David shouted at him. The words slicing like daggers through the pain in his head.

David’s anger on Natalie’s behalf created a crack in his irrational rage. He suddenly saw everything a little more clearly. Natalie’s tears and protective posture, her body vibrating with fear began to coalesce through the alcohol-induced haze. For the first time since she’d arrived, he centered his focus on her. She was soaked through to the skin. Her hair was plastered to her head and dripping down her shoulders. Her shirt was damp and clinging to her curves. Her arms wrapped around herself as she shivered. Shielding herself from his barbs. Some of which were so sharp he knew they’d pierced her soul. Shame besieged him.

But the worst was seeing the tears streaming down her face. Tears that he’d caused. Tears falling from the emerald eyes he loved so much. Their vividness deadened.Fuck.What hadIdone?

“Natalie,” he whispered. She turned and ran out the door into the rain before he could say more, before he could take every hurtful word and action back. Belatedly, he stumbled after her, but she had already reached her car and was tearing down his drive, away from him.

“Fuck,” he yelled into the rain.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. He was soaked and half-frozen but more sober than he’d been all week. Now, the only emotion he felt was shame.

He trudged his way back inside his cabin where his brother stood. “I could hear you yelling at her from outside. The things you said to her …” he broke off, shaking his head. Graham’s chin dropped to his chest. He couldn’t meet his brother’s eye; he knew he’d fucked up royally.

David sighed. “Your superhero complex sure fucked up this time. When are you going to learn you can’t save them all? You can’t stand on every street preventing every accident. You can’t control the weather. You can’t stop people from doing dangerous and idiotic things. You are only human, and you’re entitled to have a life which you just chased away. You’re my brother, and I’ve always looked up to you. Always been proud of you. Even when you were a horndog in high school and chasing after every girl in a forty-mile radius.” He paused before taking a deep breath.

Looking Graham straight in the eyes, he said the words that tore him up with guilt so sharp he felt gutted, even as he acknowledged their truth.

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