Unbeloved by Madeline Sheehan Page B

continued to put myself through this hell, letting everyone treat me like a lesser being, waiting on the sidelines for something that might never, would probably never happen.
    I tried to turn away, to push back against Hawk, but his weight and his strength brooked no movement.
    “ Don’t that shit piss you off, D?” Hawk’s face was bent to mine, his breath hot and smelling of cigarettes as it breezed past my cheek. “Knowin’ that he’s goin’ home to her, takin’ her to bed.”
    “ Don’t,” I whispered hoarsely. “Don’t do this to me again.”
    “ Look at the way he’s touchin’ her,” he continued. “Doesn’t exactly look like a man who’s plannin’ on leavin’, does it?”
    I couldn ’t answer him, I couldn’t speak, I could no longer even see. Tears were welling and falling, faster than I could blink them away, and if I spoke, I knew I’d only sob.
    Everything hurt, so much more than ever before. After last night, and now this, God . . . I . . . I was so . . . so . . .
    I was so damn angry.
    No, I was so much more than angry. I was humiliated and hurt, and all of it was bubbling up inside me, everything I’d kept hidden for far too long was rising to the surface. I couldn’t hold back, not anymore. My fears had turned to fury, and my pain had turned to rage. It was all there and Hawk was forcing me to see it, and with nothing or no one to soothe me, it had begun to boil over, leaving me shaking inside and out, craving an outlet.
    “ Stop!” I cried, twisting in his hold. “Stop . . . I can’t . . . I can’t!”
    He allowed me enough space to turn and then he was back, his body pressing up against mine. I panicked then, shoving against him, beating my hand wildly against his chest. It was a useless battle. Three times the size of me and far stronger, Hawk simply grabbed hold of my wrists and pinned them high above my head.
    “ I’ll scream!” I cried.
    “ Why?” he asked, sounding bored.
    Through my tears, I blinked up at him. “What?” I whispered.
    “ Why?” he repeated. “So you can go cry some more? Go back to feelin’ sorry for yourself?”
    I didn ’t have a ready answer.
    “ I know you,” he continued. “Wantin’ everything, gettin’ none of it. I get that. Hell, I feel that too. You don’t know shit about me, but I know you. Fuck, I know you better than you know yourself.”
    He released me and all at once began backing away. Stopping in the center of his room, he gripped the hem of his black T-shirt, pulled the threadbare material up over his head, and tossed it aside. Then he kicked off his boots, sending them flying across the room where they hit the wall with a loud thud. Then in one fluid movement, Hawk had removed both his leathers and boxers.
    “ What are you doing?” I whispered, suddenly breathless.
    “ Givin’ you somethin’,” he said.
    Giving me something. That was all he ’d said.
    I stared at him, both terrified and fascinated.
    “Last night was a mistake,” I whispered and dropped my gaze, a last attempt at trying to convince myself of just that.
    “ Ain’t no such thing as mistakes,” he said. “There’s only shit that happens and shit that don’t.”
    Raising my eyes, I found Hawk ’s expression unchanged. He stood there, naked as the day he was born, as stoic as ever. And, good God, was he infuriatingly cryptic, and . . . naked! He was still naked! But even as shocked as I was at his brazenness, I found myself looking him over rather thoroughly. His thick arms, his broad chest, a pair of thighs that could crack walnuts, all covered in dark, shadowed tattoos. But mostly I found myself staring at the erection, jutting out tall and proud between his legs.
    He didn ’t care. He was standing here naked, offering himself to what was essentially the property of one his brothers and yet . . . he didn’t care. To be this careless, to be this spontaneous, to be this free , I couldn’t comprehend it but I was certainly envious of