Chapter 2
DANIELA
What I need?
Where do I start?
I gulp and look up at Hawk, at his gorgeous blue eyes that are staring down at me with such tenderness.
Belinda is gone. My Belinda.
I may be sent back to Colombia.
Just when the pieces and clues I’ve been gathering finally clicked this morning. And now I know.
Why did I ever tell Hawk I didn’t want his protection? What was I thinking?
Sure, I was scared and overwhelmed. I didn’t like what he was becoming.
I didn’t like what he was becoming because it reminded me of…
No.
No.
Won’t go there.
Hawk is nothing like my father. Nothing like those horrid men who used me, abused me.
Sure, I didn’t like the methods he was using, but…
“Please tell me, baby,” he says again, kissing the top of my head. “Tell me what I can do.”
“I needed you,” I say again.
“I know. I’m here now.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”
I gulp. “The most important thing is Belinda. We need to find her.”
“We will,” he says. “I promise.”
I break away from him. “How can you promise that? You don’t know where she is, who has her. Don’t make any more promises you can’t keep, Hawk Bellamy.”
He moves toward me, runs his fingers through his hair. “I deserved that. And I’m sorry. But we will find her. I’ll level the whole state of Texas to find her for you.”
I curl my hands into fists. “That’s exactly what I don’t want! You getting into trouble. You leveling anything for me. I’m so tired of you bending the law—”
“Daniela, look at me.”
I don’t.
He tips my chin up so I meet his gaze. “Look at me, baby.”
“Fine,” I huff.
“I’m not him,” he says. “I’m not your father. He had no respect for the law, for you, for anyone, for that matter. I know I’ve bent the rules lately, but I’m not him, Dani. I will never be him.”
I sigh and nod. Of course Hawk isn’t my father. I know that. And everything he’s done has been for me. For my wellbeing. My father certainly never cared about that.
“Can we sit?” he asks. “Sit down and tell me exactly what has gone on.”
I cross my arms. “If you’d answered my texts, you’d know.”
“I’m sorry.”
I sigh again. I can’t keep harping on my anger at him. It’s counterproductive. Right now, all that matters is Belinda’s safety. That we get her home where she belongs.
I lead Hawk to the lush living room where we sit on the couch. I don’t reach for him, though I want to. I simply begin the story.
“I got home and wanted to see Belinda,” I begin. “I felt guilty because I haven’t spent much time with her lately, so I knocked on her door and she didn’t answer.”
“Okay.”
“I thought that was odd because she’s never asleep that early. So I knocked again and called for her. And nothing. I went in. Her bed was still made. I checked the bathroom. The closet.” My lip trembles. “I even glanced under the bed.”
“Under the bed?”
I nod. “She once told me she used to hide under the bed when she still lived with her father.” A chill runs down my spine. “He always found her though.”
“Fuck…” he says.
“I know. But she was safe here. And happy.” A tear slips down my cheek and I wipe it away before Hawk can. “At least I thought she was.”
“She was.”
“So I scoured the house and eventually had to interrupt Vinnie and Raven.”
“Interrupt them?”
“They were in their bedroom.”
He holds up his hand, his nose wrinkled. “Okay, understood. No more details necessary.”
“Yeah. I felt bad, but not that bad. I didn’t—don’t—care about anything but Belinda.”
Hawk’s hand hovers near my arm, hesitant, like he’s afraid to touch me. “Dani,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been here.”
I don’t look at him. “That doesn’t help me now.”
He exhales hard. “I know.” His eyes are full of guilt, and of something softer, but I can’t bear either.
“Please don’t,” I say. “Don’t try to make this better. You can’t.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to make it better. I just— God, Dani, I should’ve answered.”
I finally meet his eyes. “You think? Belinda’s gone. DHS showed up at the door. You went dark. I thought you were dead, or done with me, or both.”
He reaches toward me. “I wasn’t done. I’ll never be done.”
“Then where the hell were you?”
He clears his throat. “At the old barn.”
“You didn’t check your phone?” I bite out.
“Service is spotty there. Sometimes it’s great, and sometimes there’s nothing.”
Am I supposed to believe that?
The silence between us is thick. I can feel my heartbeat in my palms, everywhere.
He reaches out again, but I flinch back before his fingers touch me.
“I don’t need comfort,” I whisper. “I need help. Belinda didn’t write that note. She didn’t run away. Someone took her. I have to go after her.”
“I won’t let you go alone,” Hawk says.
“You don’t get to let me or not let me,” I say. “You weren’t here.”
He closes his eyes, breathes in through his nose. When he opens them again, the guilt is still there, but something colder sits behind it.
“I’m here now,” he says. “And I’m not leaving again.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He looks around the room. “No,” he says quietly. “This one I can keep.”
I don’t answer. My throat’s too tight. He finds my wrist again.
This time, I don’t pull away. Not yet.
But I don’t lean in, either.