Chapter 19 Hawk
HAWK
My heart breaks for Daniela.
For me too.
I always wanted children. I always dreamed of the chance to be a parent. I would raise them all equally, showing no favor to any single one.
I always dreamed of passing on my own DNA, but…
What if I don’t? I mean, Bellamy DNA isn’t all that great. My father is a murderer, and my mother has so many blind spots, especially where Eagle is concerned.
What am I thinking anyway? I barely know Daniela.
Except from the moment I first saw her, something in me shifted. I knew she was special. I knew that I needed to know her better.
The physical attraction was undeniable, of course. I mean, she’s fucking beautiful.
Too young, for sure, but I got past that.
So did she.
So much emotional baggage…
Then again, I have my share of that as well.
Really all we need is love.
Love.
Am I ready to—
“It’s okay, baby,” I say, holding her. “It will all be okay.”
She sobs into my shoulder. “There’s more.”
I pull back slightly. What more can there be?
“It’s…” She swallows. “The reason my father consented to having my tubes tied.”
“Wait, wait, wait…” I look into her dark and soulful eyes. “Why didn’t he have you on birth control?”
She sighs. “Because some of them like a woman ripe. Said they could smell the difference. And some…” She screws her face into a scowl.
“And some?” I prompt.
“Some liked it while I was bleeding. You know. My period. The pills keeps your periods light.”
Fuck.
My body tenses up and I’m ready to fight. Damned good thing Agudelo is already dead.
An IUD would have been a good choice, but Agudelo wanted his daughter to suffer. That much is clear.
“Baby, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
She sniffles. “That’s not all.”
“Baby…”
My heart is being squeezed.
“Tubal ligations can be reversed,” I say. “I mean, success isn’t guaranteed, but there have been good results—”
Daniela stops me with her fingers to my lips. “None of that matters, Hawk.”
“Of course it matters. You may still be able to have children of your own. And there’s in vitro fertilization too. You still have eggs, and you still have your uterus.”
“You don’t understand. The reason why the doctors recommended I have the procedure done in the first place.”
Because they would have done whatever that horrible degenerate asked. He had money, power. That’s all you need in this world to get anything you fucking want. She doesn’t need me to tell her that.
“Why?”
Obviously because he didn’t want her out of commission for nine months. This was a way to keep him from having to take her to a clinic every time one of his fucking friends impregnated her.
“I… I carry the gene for Huntington’s disease.”
My heart falls to my stomach. Huntington’s disease.
I don’t know much about it, but I do know it’s cruel—relentless in the way it steals a person piece by piece.
First the small things, the subtle changes in mood or movement, and then the bigger ones, until the person you love is still there in body but slipping away in every other way.
It’s inherited, inevitable once it’s in your blood, and there’s no cure.
Just a clock ticking somewhere inside you, and the knowledge that one day it will run out.
My mind races ahead, picturing tremors in her hands, her balance faltering, her voice slurring.
The way she’ll look at me one day and maybe not know my name.
And I hate myself for thinking it, but the truth is there—no matter what promises I make tonight, I can’t stop the clock that has already started ticking for her.
But I can hold her now. I can pull her against me and pretend I’m stronger than I am. I can tell her she’s still mine, that this doesn’t change us, even if we both know it does. Because there’s a difference between dying someday and knowing the thing that will kill you.
And now I know.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?”
“My father told me.”
I frown. “Did you actually see the test results?”
“No.”
“Did you hear it directly from a doctor?”
She swallows. “No.”
“Are you aware of anyone on your mother or father’s side that had Huntington’s disease?”
“No, but—”
“We’ll get genetic testing done, Daniela. We’ll make sure.”
“What’s the point when I can’t have children anyway?”
“Stop saying can’t,” I say. “So you had your tubes tied against your will. We can get it reversed, and if that doesn’t work, there’s in vitro fertilization, like I said. Or adoption.”
“I won’t take the chance of passing on the gene.”
“Daniela—”
“I’m sorry. I won’t ever be able to give a man children. And I will probably develop the disease myself.”
Daniela is young. If she does develop the disease, the earliest would be in her thirties, most likely.
I’m twenty-nine. The thirties aren’t far away for me. But they’re over a decade away for her.
“Daniela,” I say. “Your father could’ve been lying to you.”
“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.
If that means letting her think I’m keeping Jordan on the back burner for now, I’ll do it.
But I’m still very suspicious of him.
History’s most heinous serial killers—like Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer—also appeared harmless.
As far as I’m concerned, Jordan is my number one suspect.
And if I have to look into him behind Daniela’s back?
So fucking be it.