Chapter 7
ALESSANDRA
The narrow two-lane highway cuts through the dense green forest, carving a path across parts of Louisiana that man appears to have never touched. After spending my entire life in and around New Orleans—with little to zero interest in exploring Mother Nature—the sheer vastness of what surrounds us the deeper we make our way into the wilderness only cranks up the anxiety already consuming me.
My knee bouncing, hand gripping the door handle, I try to take deep breaths and control my racing heart, like I’d been attempting to do for the last two days before I was discharged.
Sitting in that hospital, waiting for something to happen, the saying, “felt like a sitting duck” finally made sense. Because that’s exactly what Ben and I were. Even with the extra security at the main doors of the hospital and outside my room, despite the entire family taking turns staying with me to try to keep me calm, none of it did any good.
I still couldn’t catch my breath…
Couldn’t stop my heart from thundering against my ribcage…
The blood from rushing in my ears…
My hands shaking each time I held Ben or watched him sleep…
Nora kept telling me a lot of that was just this heart condition, but it was aggravated by the fact that I couldn’t stop myself from imagining Dan charging into the hospital, guns blazing, to get to us.
Even now, hours away from home and the man causing all this, I keep glancing into the backseat to check on Benjamin.
Needing to see him.
Needing to know he’s all right.
Because I sure as hell am not.
Babies have it so easy. Never having to worry about anything except sleeping, eating, and pooping. Completely oblivious to what goes on around them. Content to be held and rocked. All their troubles melting away as soon as they have a full belly and warm arms around them.
If only it were like that for adults…
Pope’s large hand settles on my knee. “He’s fine.”
I glance over at him in the driver’s seat, free hand on the wheel and eyes on the narrow road that seems to stretch on forever through the thick trees. “For now. Where are you taking us? Murdersville?”
It certainly reminds me of the start of some slasher flick—the lone car traveling down a desolate road until it reaches some remote, ramshackle cabin occupied by a violent serial killer.
The corner of Pope’s lips curves into a smirk, and he peeks over at me, shaking his head. “We’re almost there. You’ll see.”
There.
Seems ominous, even with his assurances that our destination is safe.
All I know is we’re somewhere near Shreveport, and I only have that information from the last sign I saw before we turned off the highway.
“If I need to get you or Ben to the hospital for any reason, I can do it quickly. That’s all you need to know.”
Pope’s words echo through my head. They were supposed to be reassuring, but instead, they only remind me how tenuous my situation really is. Though the medications have stabilized me for the time being, there’s no telling how my heart will act over the next few months.
And stress is the one thing Dr. Boggs said to avoid.
As if that’s possible.
Fleeing from the father of my child with the first man to break my heart was not on my bingo card for this year—or ever.
Sending me out into the wilderness with my new baby and Pope probably isn’t the best way to keep my cardiac health stable, but no one else would know that.
Not really.
Not when we’ve kept everyone in the dark about what happened between us for a very good reason.
Pope peeks over at me again, his hand tightening around the wheel. “Are you doing okay?”
I’m so sick of everyone asking me how I’m doing when I am so obviously not okay, but when Pope asks, he usually means medically speaking. And I can’t get annoyed with it. Part of this deal is that I have to be honest with him. I need to tell him if I’m feeling dizzy or light-headed or if I have tightness in my chest or difficulty breathing.
All signs that my heart is struggling—so he can bring out the high-tech, expensive equipment we lugged along with us that he most certainly should not have taken out of the hospital. But paying for an entire wing has its benefits. Along with Nora’s role as the chief of the emergency department, he was able to get what he needed without too much finagling.
“I’m okay.” I take several deep breaths. “Just nervous.”
“Don’t be. You know they’ll take care of everything.” He checks the rearview mirror like he has been incessantly since we left New Orleans to ensure no one is following us. “They’ll figure out a way to protect you and Ben.”
“I know.”
Or, at least, I should know that and believe it.
Everyone’s been telling me the same thing for days, trying to reassure me that it isn’t as bad as I think it is. But I can see it in their eyes, especially with Stone and Savage, that this is bad.
We would be idiots to believe a Roselli is going to walk away from a son voluntarily. That leaves either murdering someone who could possibly be in line to take over control of the city’s largest criminal empire or coming to an agreement with him that I could live with. And I can’t imagine that ever happening when it comes to the little boy back there.
Mylittle boy.
I couldn’t ever agree to give him to Dan for any amount of time, not with his resources to take him out of the country, the threats he’s made, and his lack of qualms about resorting to physical violence with me.
He’s not touching Benjamin.
Ever.
That pain returns to my chest again, and I try to focus on the trees so I won’t drag myself into another panic spiral.
How do people do this?
I didn’t know I could love something and want to protect it so much, be so willing to do anything to ensure he never experiences the kind of fear I did when I saw Dan in my hallway. It makes what Isaac went through with Giacomina and Vivi even more terrifying now that I understand what he must have been feeling when he discovered he had a daughter and she was in danger.
The constant worry and pain are almost unbearable, and something tells me this is only the beginning.
Pope slows, drawing my focus back to the road, and he turns down a narrow drive, barely visible in the dense forest.
I glance around the SUV, branches and leaves obscuring my view of anything but endless trees. “This is where we’re going?”
He nods.
More murdery vibes.
“Not instilling much confidence in the situation, Pope.”
He huffs slightly. “Can’t you ever trust me?”
The frustration tightening his voice makes a pang of guilt hit my gut.
He has done nothing but help me since he found me at the club, but constantly having him around has put me even more on edge, making me snippy and angry about things that happened such a long time ago.
I thought I had moved past our shared history.
I’ve spent the last ten years looking for ways to do just that, but clearly, I haven’t been able to as easily as he has.
This doesn’t seem to affect him at all.
Always so strong and stoic.
He does what he has to do.
What he feels is his duty as a doctor.
And somehow, manages to pretend nothing about this makes the past seem so fresh like it does for me.
Before I can even attempt to figure out a way to answer his question, we pull through the last of the thicket into a small clearing.
“Whoa.” I lean forward, staring up through the windshield. “I wasn’t expecting this back here…”
Instead of the run-down, old, murdery-vibes cabin I expected this deep into the wilderness, a huge, modern two-story house rises above us—looking decidedly out of place in this setting.
Pope pulls the SUV to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the front porch, throws it into park, and looks at me with an I-told-you-so grin. “Trust me next time.”
“What is this place?” I unbuckle my belt and open my door, stepping out and gawking at the beautiful home. “Seriously…”
Pope pops his door and climbs out, watching me over the roof. “It belongs to one of Dad’s old Saints teammates. A guy he still talks to but hasn’t really been seen with in years, so it isn’t someone Roselli or anyone else would think to contact. And no one will ever look for us here. We’ll be safe.”
He says it so casually, but I have a harder time believing it.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem like I’ll ever feel safe again.
I release a heavy sigh and push my door closed, wincing at the loud slam it makes. Almost instantly, Benjamin flails and starts screaming in the backseat.
Pope raises a brow at me.
I hold up my hands. “I know, I know. It’s going to take some getting used to, the constantly being quiet part.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t constantly be quiet.”
“What?”
His door slams closed with no attempt to quiet it. “A lot of babies will learn to sleep through different noises, even loud ones, if you expose them enough.”
I tug open the rear door. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think I’ll be that lucky…”
Not when I never have been, and Benjamin sure hasn’t hit the lottery, either.
Born to a hot mess of a mother and a likely dangerous, mob-connected father at a strip club during a hurricane and already on the run at only three days old…
Not exactly a jackpot.
I unclip his car seat, lifting it and pulling him from the backseat to continued wails of displeasure. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll get you inside and fed.”
Pope jogs up onto the porch and punches in a code on a keypad on the door. The sound of the door unlocking fills the quiet air. “We’re all set. Why don’t you take him in and get him fed, and I’ll bring in all the bags?”
God knows there are enough of them for that to take hours.
I glance at the back of the massive SUV we drove, full of all the baby requirements I had ready at my apartment for him. The bassinet, stroller, clothes, diapers, and everything else we might need, plus our clothes, the medical equipment Pope “procured” from the hospital, and enough food to last two weeks, so we won’t have to go into town or see anyone while we’re up here.
Hopefully, not for long.
The thought of being cooped up in this house with Pope sends goosebumps breaking out across my skin, and I shiver and climb the steps to the porch.
Pope raises a brow at me. “You good?”
Shit.
Apparently, he saw that.
But there are a thousand other explanations I can give him for my full-body shake a moment ago besides his proximity. Top of the list is the son of a ruthless mobster who may, for all I know, be just as bad, coming after me to take my baby.
I’m far from good, but I force a smile and nod. “Right as rain.”
Almost as if on cue, a rumble escapes the darkening clouds overhead, and Pope looks to the sky at the weather moving in.
“The storm didn’t do much damage this far north. Just a lot of rain and some minor flooding.” He scans the small clearing. “But on the drive up, this area looked unscathed. Likely one of the reasons Saint suggested sending us here.”
Since New Orleans took the direct hit from the storm, the majority of the damage seemed to be centered there, leaving plenty of work for the rest of the family who aren’t actively hunting Dan while we’re hiding out.
The Hawke Enterprises Foundation and most of the Hawke clan will be busy assisting with repairs and relief efforts for those affected by the flooding and wind damage, and Cass and Kennedy will have to focus on the repairs needed to the Hawke Hotel if they still want to make the grand opening date. Savage won’t tolerate any more delays—even ones out of our control.
Which leaves me alone with the tall, dark, and insanely handsome man with deep, haunting eyes who gave up his job to take us up here, currently waiting for me to enter the house before he returns to get our things.
This should be interesting.
I step through the front door to a massive foyer that rises two floors, a chandelier of antlers hanging in the middle of it, matching the rustic, woodsy décor in the rest of the visible space.
This guy wanted a hunting cabin, but instead, he built a hunting mansion—complete with heads of various game animals visible on the walls in a living room to the left.
I carry a very fussy Benjamin down the hall that leads straight past a formal dining room and into a large kitchen with a massive center island. A long table runs in front of sliding glass doors that open out to a large patio surrounded by a beautiful but foreboding forest.
It would almost be peaceful if my mind didn’t keep seeing shadows and danger lurking behind every tree trunk and bush.
Benjamin’s wails echo off all the dark marble and cabinets, and I set him on the floor, unbuckle him, and pull him from his carrier, snuggling his tiny body up against me.
“All right, you hungry, buddy? Let’s go find somewhere to eat.”
With the huge glass doors, I can’t shake the feeling of being exposed, and if I have to keep staring out of them, I’ll never be able to relax.
I wander into a less formal living area with a large black leather couch facing a big-screen TV. Football memorabilia decorates this room—helmets and framed jerseys on walls and built-in shelves.
If—no…when—we get out of here, I’ll have to call Saint’s friend to thank him for letting us use this place. After a day at the club riding out the storm, and two more in the hospital, this feels downright luxurious.
Almost too nice for what we’re doing.
And for what the rest of the Hawkes are doing back at home—trying to clean up my mess as well as the one the hurricane left.
I blink away the prick of tears in my eyes and lower myself onto the couch, settling Benjamin in position to start feeding. He stops fussing immediately, relaxing against me as Pope appears in the connected kitchen with grocery bags hanging off both arms.
His dark whiskey eyes cut to me, the look he gives me bringing those damn goosebumps again. I quickly whip my head away to stare down at Benjamin nursing, unable to hold Pope’s gaze any longer.
He doesn’t say anything, just drops the bags in the kitchen before disappearing again out to the SUV.
But I saw it there in that split second that our eyes connected—this is going to be as difficult for him as it is for me, but for a completely different reason.
* * *
POPE
My bare feetdon’t make a sound as I pace the halls of the massive house. Again and again. I make the rounds—circling the whole downstairs, then back up to the second floor, where Allie and Benjamin sleep.
It’s what I should be doing, but I’m too amped up, my body too jittery, unable to sit still, let alone try to actually get some rest.
Not when my brain won’t stop churning.
Not with so much up in the air.
Not when there’s the possibility of so many things going so wrong.
Even with all the equipment I brought up here to monitor her, Allie could have a setback. If she gets sick enough, if her stats tank or her heart shows evidence of any further damage, I’ll have to take her into Shreveport to the hospital, which would undoubtedly ping on Roselli’s radar.
A shudder rolls through me at the thought of him rolling up with his father’s old crew—the men who threatened, maimed, and killed in the Roselli name.
And would undoubtedly do it again for Cristiano’s son.
I peek in the cracked door of Allie’s room for the hundredth time tonight, but only the soft sound of her even breaths floats to me.
At least someone is getting some rest.
God knows she needs it.
That woman has been through the wringer, and it’s far from over, a fact that keeps me pacing the halls. Checking the doors. Running through the plan in my head for the hundredth time to assure myself it’s solid. Peeking in on her and Benjamin in his bassinet next to her bed.
I slip in and head for him, gazing down at his sleeping form in the darkness. So small, yet already so strong and feisty. He isn’t afraid to voice his displeasure or tell us what he wants.
Benjamin has his mother’s spirit, which means he’s going to always be a handful—full of “piss and vinegar,” as Mom would say.
It’s the thing that drew me to Alessandra our whole lives, but it’s also the reason she has wandered down so many wrong paths.
Ones I gave her an inadvertent nudge toward.
Almost as if he can sense me watching him, Benjamin’s face scrunches up and he lets out a wail that shatters the still night. I quickly scoop him up, settling him against my bare chest. “Shhhh. Let’s not wake up your mom. She needs to sleep.”
The fact that his cry didn’t wake her is evidence enough that I need to let her be. I check his diaper while he continues to protest, but he’s just hungry.
I slip out of the room and down the hall to the staircase, then descend and head for the kitchen to grab one of the pre-made bottles and throw it in the warmer.
He continues to fuss about the delay, and I rock with him, trying to soothe his protests when all he wants is Allie.
I know the feeling…
For years, I held onto it, let it eat me alive from the inside out. But I forced it back, for my own good as well as hers. Because she will never forgive me for what I did to her, and I can never get back that inherent trust or bond we once had.
Things can never be the same, a reality I’m beginning to understand the longer we’re thrust together during this impossible situation.
I just need her to trust me—for now.
Long enough for the rest of the family back home to come up with some way to fix this. Hopefully, before I wear a groove in the floors with my pacing.
Knowing there are half a dozen loaded weapons placed strategically around the house doesn’t help ease any of my nerves. It doesn’t feel like enough firepower for what we might face.
Benjamin seems to sense my stress, his wails growing stronger until the warmer beeps and I’m able to get him the bottle he so desperately wants. He takes it between his lips right away, finally relaxing against me and allowing me to crack my neck and release some of the tension his distress was building in me, too.
I walk over to stand in front of the sliding glass doors that look out into the dark forest behind the house. With the cloud cover overhead, I can barely make out the distinct shapes of the trees. It’s merely a thick, dense blackness that feels like an endless void I could get lost in if I stare out at it for too long.
Ignoring the desire to throw on the exterior lights and illuminate the whole yard for my own sanity, I look down at Benjamin, all soft cheeks, little black eyelashes spread out across them. Tiny fingers press against my chest, warm and comforting in a way I didn’t know they could be.
A knife hits me in that exact spot and twists the longer I look at him. “I am sorry you’re caught up in this, buddy, but don’t blame your mom. It isn’t her fault. None of this is. It’s all mine.”
I lower my head and press a kiss to his—the wispy, dark hair soft against my lips.
This sweet, innocent baby is stuck in the middle of something he has no control over, and it’s up to me to keep him and Allie safe. But despite what I told her, I’ll never truly feel safe here, or anywhere, for that matter. Not until the situation with Roselli is resolved.
I can’t see how that’s going to happen without bloodshed.
Even if he wasn’t involved in his dad’s business over the years, which I have a hard time believing, he still demonstrated his intention by trying to grab Allie the morning the hurricane hit.
Anger burns through my blood again, like it did while Allie’s head rested in my lap on Savage’s couch and she recounted what happened.
It was all I needed to know to confirm he’s not going to let this baby go.
But he also greatly underestimates the Hawkes and what we’re willing to do to protect our own if he thought he would get away with that. “I will make sure you’re safe, kid. You and your mom.”
My words hang in the silent air for a moment, then soft footsteps sound behind me. I freeze and glance over my shoulder as Allie approaches, her hair disheveled, eyes still sleepy.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubs at her bare skin, the tank top and tiny shorts she’s wearing barely covering her. “I thought I heard something down here.”
I force myself to ignore my body’s instant reaction to her, instead focusing on the fact that she’s here at all. “And you came down to investigate a noise without me? Don’t do that unless you’re going to grab one of the guns.”
She flinches slightly at my reproach.
I hate having to say it to her, despise having to even suggest she would need to use one of the weapons we have, but it’s the reality of where we are right now.
We both need to be alert at all times, ready for any potential threats to arise, and prepared to act like we’ve both been trained to do our entire lives.
Allie nods slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just…still kind of asleep…” She approaches cautiously and peeks into my arms. “When did he wake up?”
I stare back out at the forest as the clouds move away from the moon, letting it illuminate the treetops swaying in the wind. “A few minutes ago.”
Stepping forward, Allie places her hands flat against the glass, watching the same elegant movement, almost as if they’re dancing. She’s silent for a few moments before she peeks at me out of the corner of her eye. “How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
And that’s the God’s honest truth.
No one knows.
Finding out Roselli had a son was shocking enough, and now everyone is scrambling to figure out what Daniele has been doing since his father’s death and after his confrontation with Allie.
A distressed noise slips from her trembling lips. “They’re going to kill him, aren’t they?”
Her softly spoken question is so innocent yet filled with the understanding that it’s true. Something a Hawke like Alessandra knows all too well.
“I don’t know for sure, but…” I look down at Benjamin again, still content in my arms, and I can’t help but imagine what must be going through Daniele’s head—knowing he has a son out there. “I don’t know how we get out of this without that happening.”
Allie presses her forehead against the glass and closes her eyes. “I never should have gotten involved with him. I don’t know what I was thinking…”
I don’t want to have this conversation with her again, but she seems to need the reassurance. And I’m not going to let her blame herself when it was my fault.
All of it.
This was all set in motion by what I did that night.
“You didn’t know.”
She lifts her head and looks over at me, her eyes dipping to the baby. A sad smile crosses her lips. “Things could have been so different, you know?”
Fucking hell.
My heart lodges my throat, and I hold her gaze, unable to look away. The weight of her words crushes both of us, yet we refuse to let that string that’s always held us together break.
It’s been there forever—changing texture and length, at times thinning until it’s close to snapping and letting us both walk away, trailing the jagged edges with us.
Only it never did.
Benjamin releases a tiny cry, finally shattering that connection—at least momentarily—and I glance down at the empty bottle and turn toward her. “I’m going to clean up.”
She reaches out and takes him from me, cradling him softly against her chest and murmuring something to him I can’t make out. My hand holding the bottle shakes violently as I take it to the sink and throw on the water, letting the noise of it running into the basin fill the kitchen.
I rinse the bottle, then drop it into the washer, my eyes following her as she moves around the kitchen and living room, rocking him gently. Without the water running, her soft hum reaches me, the familiar tune making my throat dry.
She starts singing the Jamaican lullaby Dad used on all of us when we were little, and my entire body starts to tremble.
Allie may have been terrified of becoming a mother, given the circumstances, but she loves that kid more than anything, and she’ll do anything to protect him. Even if it means staying here with me. Which must be as painful for her as it is for me.
It’s only the first night, and already, both of us are starting to crack.
This is precisely why we’ve avoided each other for so long.
It wasn’t just the anger she had for me; it was the knowledge that whatever we had together never really died.
We’ve both felt it every time our eyes met across a room for the last ten years, and neither one of us wants to admit it because we both know we can’t change the past.
That pain and betrayal will always live in her heart.
And what I did will always come back to bite me.