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of me. Turning my head to the side slightly, I smile in his direction.

“Oh, we’re all kinds of fucked up and probably will be until the day we die, daddy.”

He snorts. “That’s the goddamn truth of it too.”

The next thirty minutes we eat in complete silence. We thoroughly enjoy our food, because it’s been days since either of us has had anything at all. There is an unspoken sensation lingering around us, a sadness and uncertainty.

I hope in time that it goes away, but I don’t hold much hope, I honestly think that it will be around us forever. What we went through, it isn’t something that you just forget about or just move on from.

This is everlasting. Something was taken from us, though we experienced different things, we both had our freedom, our control, and very much our pride stripped from us. It was scary, but mostly, it was humiliating and a torture in and of itself, a torture that the senator didn’t even have to lift a finger to administer.

Once our food is eaten, I gather it all up and take it toward the door, opening it, and setting the bags just outside in the hallway. Closing the door, I reach for the deadbolt to lock it, but my fingers tremble and I can’t do it.

“Leave it,” he murmurs. “No more locked doors.”

Turning my head, I look back over my shoulder at him. “No more darkness. No more locked doors,” I breathe.

“Never again.”

His gaze ignites and I know that he means so much more than a physically locked door. So much more. Clearing my throat, I nod my head and make my way toward him, leaving the door closed, but unlocked.

Climbing onto the bed, I strip out of my T-shirt and sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I watch him. His nostrils flare before he reaches for me, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulls me against him before he rolls on top of me.

“Keeping you, Avah,” he rasps against my lips.

“I’m keeping you, too,” I exhale.

Chapter Thirty

AVAH

Days go by. Each one gets easier than the day before, but I don’t feel the same and I doubt that I ever will. I don’t think that Hawk does either. I watch as he packs a bag, readying himself for a trip to Northern California.

“Do you need to go? Shouldn’t you stay here?” I ask, my voice shaky from fear.

Not only fear of him walking out of the door and leaving me alone, but also fear for him. I don’t know what’s going to happen and what if he doesn’t come back?

“I’m visiting a friend, nothing more.”

I snort, arching a brow, not believing a word that he is saying. “Please, stay here,” I whisper. “Stay with me.”

He turns around to face me, taking a step forward before he lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the side of my throat. “Baby, I’ll be back, you can bet your ass on that. Don’t worry. You’re safe here, you’re just plain fuckin’ safe, that asshole is gone.”

Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and hold on to him tightly, not wanting him to go anywhere, ever. I want him to stay at my side, to be right where I can always see him, for life. I know it’s not practical, but I’m not practical or rational right now.

“I know, but I don’t want to be away from you,” I admit.

He lowers his chin, resting his forehead against my own as he inhales a deep breath and closes his eyes. I close mine as well, but not before I reach my other hand out and wrap my fingers around his side, gripping his shirt tightly.

“Tonight, we’ll have a good time, relax a little. We’ve been holed up for a while. We need to just relax. I’ll leave in the morning, be back in a few days, maybe then we’ll try to find a place of our own.”

Opening my eyes, I jerk my head back and look into his gaze. His lips are curved up in a grin and he lets out a small chuckle at the change in my demeanor. I go from devastated to excited in just seconds. Maybe it’s because looking for a place means shopping and I haven’t done that in a while and I honestly do miss it.

“Also,” he begins. “I had your shit packed up and brought here. Your clothes are going to be hauled to our room, everything else will be out in the shed to be stored until you want it. Going through your clothes can be something you can do while I’m gone.”

“My stuff, my clothes?” I breathe.

He grins. “Your stuff. Mamba, Gator, and Maria went and got it for you. Clothes and personal shit. I’ll send some prospects to pack up and empty out your apartment in a few weeks.”

“Hawk,” I gasp. “Seriously? My clothes, my things?”

Hawk licks his bottom lip before he sinks his teeth into the flesh. “Yeah, baby. Your things.”

“Thank you,” I exhale as I lean in and touch my lips to his. “Thank you. I love you.”

He lets out a growl, his arms reaching down as he grabs handfuls of my ass and picks me up. I let out a squeal as my heart begins to race and slam against my chest. He marches me backward until my back presses against the wall.

We haven’t done anything except foreplay since we’ve been back. I don’t know if it’s because he’s not ready for more, or if he thinks I’m not.

It’s probably a mix of both and he would be absolutely correct. I wasn’t ready, not when we first came back, but now I want so much more from him, I want everything.

“Orson,” I exhale.

He lets out a grunt, his hands working at his pants as he unbuttons and frees himself. I was in the middle of getting ready to get my hair fixed, so I was only wrapped in a towel. Ripping

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