“It’s not,” he says quietly.“But it’s possible.”He stands, turns toward the window, and exhales hard.“Do you think this is punishment?”he murmurs.
“What?”
He doesn’t look at me.“All of it.Eagle, Reyes, your immigration case, Belinda.It’s like some cosmic equation snapped back into balance.”
I swallow hard.“For what?For us?”
He glances back over his shoulder.“For me.”
“That’s not how it works, Hawk.”
“Maybe not,” he says.“But it feels like it.”
I stand, step closer until I can smell the faint tang of road dust and coffee on him.“You don’t get to make this your fault.”
He turns fully to face me.“Then whose is it?”
“His.”I make the word sharp and final.Hawk may not have been here when I needed him, but this isn’t on him.“Brown’s.You didn’t take her.”
“No,” he says.“But I wasn’t here to stop it either.”He runs a hand over his face, through his hair.“When I got your messages, I thought my heart was going to stop.I was two hours away and I didn’t even know.”
“Don’t.”
“I mean it,” he insists.“If anything happens to her?—”
“Stop.”I press my hands to his chest.“Don’t sayif.She’s alive.We’re going to rescue her.She’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” he says.“We’ll find her.”
For the first time tonight, I see the man I fell for.Not the Bellamy fixer, not the strategist.Certainly not the guy who went fucking crazy and broke into multiple homes.Just Hawk.
Then, as quickly as it went away, panic takes me again.“What if we don’t?”I shake my head.“What if I’m not even here?”
“Baby…”
I cross my arms.“DHS could show up again.They said my temporary protected status is revoked.If they decide to detain me, they can.They could deport me before we even find her.”
His jaw tightens.“They’re not going to touch you.”
“You don’t know that.”
His gaze darkens.“I do.”
“What makes you so sure?”
He puffs his chest out.“Because they’ll have to go through me first.”
At first, I almost roll my eyes at his words.It’s the kind of thing he says easily, like a vow he’s made a hundred times before.But when he says it now, it sounds different.Heavy.Real.
I want to argue, tell him not to risk himself for me, but the words won’t come.My throat feels too tight.
Instead, I whisper, “You can’t fight the government, Hawk.”
He sniffs defiantly.“Watch me.”
Something hot and reckless flares in my chest.Hope, maybe.Or love.Or both.
He takes a slow breath, the edge in his voice softening.“Go upstairs.Try to rest.”
“I can’t.”
“You need to.”
“You think I’m going to sleep while she’s out there?”
He sighs.“No.And neither will I.”
