Page 48 of Out of Reach
Fortunately, Logan was the least likely of all the guys to drive him crazy while on assignment. While Mal, who was still in New York with Zion, would have chattered nonstop and Sean would have little patience with Hawk’s current worry over Jude, Logan kept his mouth shut. Unless Hawk wanted to talk things out—then Logan would be a sympathetic and nonjudgmental ear.
Not that they had a lot of time to talk on the job. Most of their work consisted of continually circling the casino, keeping their eye out for inappropriate or fraudulent behavior while keeping the establishment’s money, property, and patrons safe. It was truly surprising how exhausting being continuously vigilant was, which was why the gig was high on the list of all the guys’ least favorite assignments.
The feds were always parked in their unmarked, black Toyota Corolla at the end of the private road every afternoon when Hawk left for the casino and every sunrise when he came home. He knew they had to switch out at some point during the day, but he swore they always looked like the same two guys no matter what time it was.
After West accused Hawk of hovering over Jude, Hawk did his best to give Jude space. Jude spent his days walking the beach, reading, and swimming in the outdoor pool. He was withdrawn, but he always had a smile for Hawk. On the fourth morning when Hawk returned from the job, he didn’t follow Logan upstairs to their respective rooms. Instead, he went downstairs to check on Jude.
It was quiet, everyone in the house still asleep. Jude’s door was ajar. Approaching it, Hawk nudged it open with one finger and peered inside. Jude lay on the bed, propped by pillows, with a book resting with its pages fanned open as though he’d fallen asleep and dropped it while reading. With a pang, Hawk noted the dark smudges under Jude’s eyes. He obviously wasn’t sleeping well. Quietly, Hawk approached the bed and gently took the book from under Jude’s lax fingers and placed it on the nightstand. Jude’s head lolled at an angle, and, wanting to make him more comfortable, Hawk carefully slid his arms underneath him and rearranged him on the mattress so he was flat on his back. Before he could move away, Jude jerked awake and flailed in his arms, smacking Hawk in the nose with the heel of his hand so hard that Hawk saw stars.
Jude sat up and looked around. “Hawk? What are you doing?”
“Currently, I’m in pain,” Hawk said from behind his hand.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry…You’re bleeding!”
Hawk’s nose hurt like a bitch, and he winced when Jude touched it, but neither of them thought it was broken. Pulling a tissue from the box on the nightstand, he dabbed at the blood. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you. I should have just left you the way you were.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you getting any sleep at all at night?”
Chewing on his bottom lip, looking everywhere but at Hawk, Jude said, “Sure.”
Hawk wanted to ask Jude what his plans were, but Jude hadn’t even brought up the subject. He wondered if worry was keeping Jude awake at night. It wouldn’t be safe for him to go back to New York with Prescott on the loose. Taking Jude’s hand in his, he squeezed it. “The feds have questioned Ricci, and he’s admitted to keeping Prescott informed when a model seemed vulnerable—like with little to no family or resources. Prescott would kidnap them and either employ them in his escort business or hide them until he’s ready to have them groomed and sold, sometimes here in the US and sometimes overseas.”
Jude looked sick. “I saw Sebastian on the ship with the others. Prescott was going to sell him, too. He lied about the drugs.”
Maybe Hawk should have kept his mouth shut. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled onto the bed next to Jude. “Com’ere,” he said, opening his arms. When Jude didn’t move, Hawk wiggled his fingers and said quietly, “Come on. Lie down with me a moment. I’m beat and don’t wanna climb two flights of stairs.”
Jude stretched out beside him, rolling so his head rested on Hawk’s bicep.
“Relax,” Hawk said. “It’s still early.” He closed his own eyes, breathing deeply and evenly, hoping Jude would follow suit. His plan was to check in a few moments, but he was so tired, he fell into deep sleep, awakening hours later when someone dropped a barbell onto the padded floor of the gym next door. Beside him, the bed was empty.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jude
For the first time in over a week, Jude had gotten more than two consecutive hours of sleep, and only because Hawk had offered him the sanctuary of his arms. Hawk had been out like a light, and Jude, once he had Hawk’s heart beating in his ear, had finally allowed his own exhaustion to pull him under, not waking until hours later when in the throes of a bad dream. Sweating and heart beating wildly, he’d slipped out of bed, leaving Hawk sleeping, sprawled in Jude’s bed, blue tie pulled loose but suit still on, creased and wrinkled. Jude’s heart flipped. Even with stubble on his face and his mouth open, he was still the most handsome man Jude had ever seen.
In the gym locker room, he showered and dressed, the dream that had awakened him still fresh in his mind. Sam, angry and in Jude’s face, telling him how from now on he’d be nothing but a slave for someone’s fetishes. It had been so damn real. Jude shuddered as he brushed his teeth and hair, avoiding the mirror’s reflection: he didn’t want to see the fear he was feeling written all over his face.
In the kitchen, Dex was standing at the stove.
“Morning. Want some scrambled eggs?” Dex offered, holding up the pan.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Dex scraped a pile on a plate, then grabbed a piece of toast from the toaster and added a bit of butter before setting the food in front of Jude at the table.
“Awesome service,” Jude joked, picking up the fork Dex had provided.
“I expect a good tip.” Dex sat down and gave Jude a long look. “No offense, man, but you look terrible. Couldn’t sleep again last night?”
“Not for very long.” Dex was a great listener and had quickly become a good friend, and Jude had shared his experiences, along with the sleeping issues he’d had since.
“Maybe some exercise would help,” Dex suggested.
“I swim in the pool every day. I just…every time I fall asleep, I have these dreams about Sam. They’re so real, and I wake up in a cold sweat.”
Dex looked sympathetic. “Maybe talking to someone would help. We have a therapist you could go to—I mean, it’s Andi’s brother, and some of us have gone to his office when we needed someone to talk to. He’s great.”
“You went to see him?” Jude asked. He hoped he wasn’t coming across as nosy; he just wanted to know if Dex had first-hand knowledge of the therapist.