“Once news travels to Borden about what you did, he’s going to demand you be compensated for whatever you gave her,” he explained. “There’s five hundred right there. Take that to your bank and deposit it. Next time, let us know when you intend on helping out your friends, and we’ll do things the right way.”

“What’s the right way?” I retorted.

He took a step closer and leaned his head down to my level. I felt unnerved by his close proximity. Hawke liked to keep his distance, and he was suddenly invading my personal space with his hard brown eyes.

“You don’t give people money,” he told me slowly and harshly. “If they whine about going hungry, you buy them some fucking food if you can. If they’re complaining they can’t make rent, you pay their fucking rent if you can. Pretty much, you fix the problem by going to the very source of the problem, instead of blindly handing cash over. Got it? Or are you going to argue over this too?”

I frowned. I hated that he made sense. Even granny avoided giving me money and spent the years cooking me food to take home. It was her way of knowing I was going to eat instead of handing money over and fearing I would spend it on something else. If I told her about this, she’d have given me an earful.

I sighed in defeat and sat back down. Staring at the money, I muttered, “Yeah, you’re right. I get it. It was impulsive and I wasn’t thinking. I was so focused on wanting to help her out in any way because of how shit she looked. I mean, she seemed desperate and it hurt. I won’t do it again.”

When he didn’t respond, I shot him a glance. He was looking at me like I’d spoken a foreign language, his face all screwed up, his brow furrowed. “I’m right? Just like that?” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. Go on and rub it in like I know you want to.”

He turned his large body around and exchanged looks with Graeme. They seemed to be silently communicating something. Graeme shrugged at the end and Hawke turned back to me.

“For the first time since your round ass walked in here, you’re pretty fucking reasonable, you know that?” he stated, and before I responded, he gruffly added, “Now take the money and put it in your pocket before Borden comes out and sees it. He’s going to be in a fuck of a mood after talking to my asshole brother and the last thing I want is him taking shit out on you.”

My jaw almost dropped. I avoided showing him the surprise on my face and quickly gathered the money. I pocketed the bills, all the while staring at Hawke’s hard frame from the corner of my eye as he turned and rested his back against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. Why would he care if Borden was going to take his anger out on me? Was this dick actually capable of emotion? He had to be, though he made a damn good effort concealing it.

It was just one of those things, I figured. When you spend a lot of time around people, they naturally start to reluctantly take you in, especially as they come to terms with the fact you aren’t going anywhere. And with Borden’s tight grasp on me, I would be here forever. Maybe Hawke finally accepted that.

He lingered there for a while, looking around, acting all casual like Graeme was, and I almost smiled at these guys. These were my protectors, and maybe I’d been too hard on them. Maybe…I needed to mind my attitude a little more and stop with the death glares.

Idly tapping my finger on the bar, I quietly remarked, “Borden’s in a private room with your brother and a bunch of girls, by the way.”

When he didn’t answer, my eyes flickered to his harsh face. Everything about Hawke was cruel, right down to those hard-pressed lips. But now…well, his face appeared void of emotion. Just like Borden, he mastered the art of empty expression.

Noticing my stare, he glanced at me briefly and replied, “What room?”

“Apparently a big one.”

“With the seedy red curtains?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t freaking know. I haven’t been in there. Why? Have you?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “’Course I have.”

I felt a vein in my neck pulse. “Has Borden?”

“It’s not the first time Borden has talked business while women lap danced around them. As far as I know, he’s never gone in there alone, if that’s what you mean.”

“Right…” I muttered, feeling my eye twitch.

He observed me closely. “How does him being in there make you feel?”

I paused, and then admitted, “Enraged. Hence my petulant fifteen year old hissy fit.”

He nodded once.

“But it’s not a big deal,” I added, more to myself. “I mean…so what? Guys do it all the time and women are completely fine with it. I’m fine. I mean, I will be, you know? So…whatever.”

I forced my mouth shut before I really sounded like I was trying too hard to convince him it wasn’t a big deal and delved back into my phone. He strode away, and I already felt stupid for rambling. Clearly this was bothering me because I was due for my period. Shit. When was the last freaking time I even had my period? Two weeks ago. My mind consoled me. Thank goodness. I needed to update my birth control shot in the coming months.

A few minutes later, I heard him approach again. I peered up in time to watch him place a cold beer in front of me. “That’ll make you feel better,” he muttered before taking a seat next to me, his back against the bar.

He got me a drink? Now my jaw really did drop. Progress. That was the one word that came to mind for our hate-filled relationship. We’d just made progress. I stared at the beer in disbelief for a few moments, and then said, “While I appreciate the gesture, I don’t drink, Hawke.”

“Shut up,” he countered. “Everybody drinks. Pick it up and smash it.”

“But –”

“When was the last time you had an icy cold beer like that?”

“Years,” I answered vaguely.

“You an alcoholic?”

“No.”

“Then drink.” When I didn’t budge, he leaned over and brought the bottle closer to me. “There is a time and place for a good drink, Emma. Look at the condensation on that bottle. Tell that baby no. No, actually, tell that anger boiling inside of you that you won’t try and make it go away with some amber liquid.”

I did look at it, and it did look particularly good.