“Yes, I’ve considered that.But why would he lie?He had control of me anyway.He forced me to get the abortions, forced me to get my tubes tied.He didn’t need to lie, Hawk.”
“It isn’t over, Daniela.We can?—”
I stop abruptly.I’m already thinking about having babies with her.And I’ve known her for what… A couple of weeks?
I’ve seen her a grand total of maybe half a dozen times since she came back from Colombia as Vinnie’s bride.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.“I’m getting way ahead of myself.”
“Don’t apologize,” she says.“I can’t lie to you.I’ve thought about what it might be like to have your child.How beautiful he or she would be.Our skin tones are so similar, and those eyes of yours…”
“Are a recessive trait,” I say.
“There’s still a chance,” she says.“Except there’s no chance.I won’t condemn a child to the horrors of Huntington’s.”
“Oh baby…” I pull her to me and our lips meet.
It’s a gentle kiss.Neither one of us is in the mood to be raw and feral like we usually are.Plus, Eagle is in the room.Unresponsive, but still in the room.
Daniela pulls back and breaks the kiss.
“Hawk,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Whoever sent that bouquet of roses with the barbed wire knew I would be here.”
“Yeah, that hasn’t escaped my notice.”
“And Jordan…”
“Knew about my brother’s overdose.”I step back.“Which is really bizarre.My family is good at keeping our personal business away from the prying eyes of the media.My dad was able to keep Falcon’s incarceration pretty quiet.It was only covered by a few local newspapers.And this?I mean, sure, my brother’s a Bellamy, but people OD every day.”
“How did Jordan know?”
“I don’t know,” I say, “but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”
Daniela shakes her head.“I don’t know Jordan that well.I mean, we spent several classes together.But he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who could do something like this.Scare me in this way.”
“I don’t know about that, Dani.He sure wasn’t happy that I was at the waterpark with you.And he followed us to…”
“Yeah, I know, but just because he has a crush on me—even is a little jealous, possessive— doesn’t mean that he’s a stalker.”
“What do you call it when you go looking for a woman and her date who are getting it on behind some foliage?”
“I think he was looking for us,” she says.“And yeah, maybe he knew what we were up to, but that doesn’t make him a stalker.Maybe he thought we were lost or something.”
I frown.“I’m not so sure.That sounds like a pretext, not an actual concern he’d have.”
“I really don’t think it’s Jordan,” she says.“Not when there are so many other people in my background more menacing than he is.”
“All right,” I say.“I’ll leave that theory in bed for a while.”
She leans into me, her head on my shoulder.
And it occurs to me how much she has come to mean to me in so short of a time.
I would literally do anything for her.
