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I knew Hawke was done with me when his big hand came up to wrap around my throat. He didn’t exert any pressure, he just held me there. It was a warning, a message. But I held my ground and whispered, “I am not leaving my son.”
“Very noble,” Hawke murmured as he glared at me. “Is that nobility gonna pay for the treatment your kid needs?”
I swallowed hard and didn’t miss when Hawke’s eyes dropped to where he was holding me. His gaze returned to mine just as quickly and I swore I saw a flash of something in his eyes that seemed out of place. Understanding? Compassion? Respect?
I nearly laughed at the prospect. This man had none of those things.
“Fine, we’ll play it your way,” Hawke murmured and he released me. But he didn’t step away from me. “What do you think will happen to little Matty when the cops show up questioning you about a murder that happened ten years ago? A murder where a partial match to your DNA was discovered?”
Disbelief flooded my nerve endings, then white hot fear as I understood what he was saying. “The…the lab would never give the cops my DNA.”
“You really think they gave it to me?” Hawke asked calmly.
And I knew in that instant that he had me. It didn’t matter how he’d managed to find my DNA. It didn’t matter that he knew I hadn’t been involved in whatever murder he was talking about. Even if the cops couldn’t use my DNA, that wouldn’t stop them from investigating me and that meant Matty would go into foster care. And if he went into the system, I’d never get him back.
I leaned back against the counter for support as my knees threatened to give way. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t have come this far, given up so much, only to have this man take it away from me. To have cancer take it from me. I struggled to draw in air as a dull roaring began in my head. I tried to focus on a spot on one of the cabinets on the other side of the small kitchen, but my vision began to dim.
“Tate.”
The soft, gentle murmuring of my name was so different from the angry way it had been said before. I wanted to hear it again. And then I did, but it got better because the warmth I had been craving seeped into a spot just above my elbows.
“Open your eyes, Tate.”
I shook my head because I knew what was waiting for me if I did. And then sparks of electricity flared to life on my cheek and I sucked in a soft breath at the sensation. I forced my eyes open and saw Hawke watching me intently, his wide, firm lips slightly parted, his flinty blue eyes focused on me…no, not me, my lips.
I didn’t move as I made sense of the flash of heat on my cheek. He was caressing me there, the rough pad of his thumb dragging over my skin. When his finger stilled, I brought my hand up to close around his wrist. But not to stop him, not to push him away. To prevent his escape. To urge him on. To beg him to keep the pain and fear at bay for just another few seconds.
Hawke’s eyes drifted from my face to my hand where I was holding him and I saw his eyes shutter and then go dark as he released his hold on me. I cursed my foolishness and quickly dropped my hand.
“We’re leaving in the morning,” he finally said as he stepped back.
I didn’t say anything as he went back to the chair and sat down. It took me a long time to find the strength and the will to move. And when I finally did, I went to Matty’s room to start packing his things. Because like so many times in my life, my choice to do anything else had been taken away from me.
* * *
Since Matty’s room didn’t have a clock in it, I had no idea what time it was when I finally woke up the next morning. What I did know was that my son’s warm little body wasn’t lying next to me anymore and I jerked upright and stumbled out of the bed. I ripped the closed door open and scanned the small space and then felt my breath come out in a whoosh when I heard my son’s voice. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it took only seconds to find him. He was sitting with Hawke at the kitchen table and he was talking excitedly about the Spiderman doll in his hands.
“It was Daddy’s when he was little,” Matty was explaining as he moved the doll’s arms and legs into different positions.
