Chapter Six

Hawk was stretched out on his back, booted ankles crossed, the leather jacket bunched beneath the man’s head, and his arms were crossed. Sky was sitting at the table, leaning back in a chair, and for a moment, he thought the younger man was asleep.

As if sensing his gaze, Sky turned his head and met his eyes in the faint light of the hotel room.

“You hungry?” Sky suddenly asked.

“I could eat. How about we hit that diner down the road? I’ll treat.”

Sky jumped up and wiped his hands on his dirty jeans. The man had pulled on the clothes he’d fought in last night.

“But I don’t think they’ll serve me.” Sky pulled at his bottom lip.

“Why not?” Hawk frowned, noting the nervous tug. They fucking would serve Sky and he’d make damned sure of it. “Trust me, they’ll serve us, but you can wear my sweats if you want.”

Sky grinned and shook his head. Hawk’s breath caught and his stomach jumped, and he stepped up to place his heavy leather jacket around the smaller man’s shoulders. Hawk pulled his gun from his holster and tucked it in the waistband of his pants before untucking his shirt to cover it. Sky’s breath hitched and the smile that was aimed at him made him feel like he’d won the lottery.

“After you.” Hawk winked and opened the door with a flourish and Sky laughed softly.

The sound brought a smile to Hawk’s lips.

Sky was still a bit breathless from the sexiness of his assassin-turned-savior, but by the time they reached the diner, stepped inside, and were seated with only a brief passing glance from the waitress, his nervousness faded.

Diner music piped in through the speakers and they hadn’t removed the Halloween decorations near the entrance.

“Order whatever you want.”

Trying to hide his shaking hands, Sky couldn’t stop his mouth from watering as he looked over the menu. He hadn’t had a decent meal in he couldn’t remember how long, days maybe? Or wait, it was a week ago when he’d found that tossed-out Styrofoam box half filled with spaghetti behind Tanya’s Pizza place. Sometimes, he thought Tanya did that on purpose after she’d caught him going through her trash at least twice a week. Okay, maybe it was three times a week, but damn, she had the best food around.

“Sky?”

“Oh yeah, um…I’ll have pancakes.”

Hawk frowned. “Just pancakes?”

“Yep.” No way was he going to take too much of Hawk’s money. Did assassins make much money? He thought they did, but he’d never presume without the facts.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked. She was in her mid-fifties with a weathered face and dark hair pulled into a tight bun. She tapped a pencil on a small white pad and her smile crinkled the corners of her pale green eyes.

“We’ll both have coffee with cream and sugar. The deluxe pancakes, sausage, bacon, hash browns, and egg plate times two.” Hawk smirked when the young man’s eyes went wide, but before Sky could argue, he plucked the menu from the man’s hands and gave it to the waitress.

“That’s too much,” Sky hissed.

“It’s okay, you’ll have leftovers if you can’t eat it all.”

“No, I mean too much money.”

“Sky…” Hawk let the man’s name trail off. “It’s cool.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Hawk smiled. “I make a mint.”

“So, like a gazillionaire?” Sky smiled.

Hawk snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Close.”

Sky gave up and honestly, he was grateful to be in a warm place and have hot food.

“Thank you,” he blurted as the waitress came back with the coffee, and Sky was left with his mouth gaping when Hawk dumped cream and sugar into a cup and handed it to him.

The mug was hot between his cold hands and he drank deeply from the brew, almost moaning but holding it back at the last minute. He’d almost forgotten how good coffee tasted. The cappuccino machine, when he’d lived at home, had been heaven.

“Good?”

Sky glanced up and felt his face go red when he realized his last moan had been out loud and Hawk was smirking at him.

“Yeah.”

“Here you go,” the waitress said and she placed down plates of food that covered the table. “Anything else?”

“Yes please, can you bring us another round of coffee,” Hawk said.

“Sure,” she said, and left them.

“Talk to me, Sky.”

“Why?” He knew his voice sounded surprised and he looked up with the bite of pancakes on his fork posed at his mouth.

“Because I need to know. I can help you.”

Sky’s eyes burned and he took a hasty bite. “I don’t think you can.”

The breath caught in Hawk’s throat at the unshed torment in Sky’s brilliant blue eyes and he had the sudden urge to fuck up the whole world if it would get those blue eyes to grow light again.

And he asked because he really needed to know. “What did you do with the money?”

“I didn’t steal any money.” Indignation filled Sky’s face, eyes, and voice.

He wasn’t really surprised and he grimaced. The whole job had been a lie. It was rare, but it wasn’t impossible that they missed things, but Hawk was going to call the head of Erebus and find out how the fuck this could have happened.

That wasn’t what bothered him. What did was the look of such utter torment in Sky’s eyes. He knew being blamed for a murder and stealing money that you didn’t could take a toll on a person, but the level of despair told him that something else was going on.

“Then who stole it?”

“There is no money.” Sky’s voice sounded robotic when he answered. “There never has been.”

Hawk drew a breath, but in the next instance, the front glass of the diner shattered beneath a hail of bullets. Whipping a hand out, he yanked Sky off the cracked and faded booth’s seat and onto the floor. Taking cover beneath the table gave them some protection from the gunfire, but it wasn’t enough to make him comfortable.

The waitress screamed.