Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“I heard you.”
“And you did it anyway.”
“I did.”
I grip the wheel until my knuckles whiten. “Now I have to worry about him finding out more. Cameras. Plates. A trail.”
“Jordan is the least of my worries right now.”
“What does that mean?”
He goes quiet. I hear something in the background. Wind? A door? I imagine him in motion, always moving, always looking for the next thing to break.
“Hawk.”
Another exhale. “I went to Reyes’s house.”
The world narrows. “What?”
“I went to West Lake Hills. He was there.” Hawk clears his throat. “Sitting in a guest room he turned into a smoking lounge.”
I gulp.
Part of me hopes he pummeled Hernando Reyes into paper pulp. He deserves the worst. But another part of me is filled with dread. I don’t want Hawk in danger. I don’t want him in danger because of me.
“What did you do?” I finally ask.
“I asked questions.”
I swallow down nausea. “What did you do, Hawk?”
A pause. “I put him on the floor. We fought. He swung first—well, second—but it doesn’t matter. He’s alive.”
My pulse spikes. “And now?”
“Now he’s…contained.”
Oh, God… I really feel the nausea now. I have to pull over to the side of the road.
“Dani? You there?”
“Yeah.” I gulp again. “Contained where?”
Silence again. Then, “In an old barn on the Bellamy property.”
I grip the wheel harder. The horn almost honks from the pressure. “You can’t do that.”
“I did.”
“You can’t take people. You can’t tie them up. You can’t—God, Hawk—this isn’t a movie. There are proper channels.”
“Dani…”
I pound a fist on my steering wheel. “I’ve lived my whole life with criminals. I can’t do it again, Hawk. I fucking can’t!”
He doesn’t reply.
“You’re a Bellamy,” I say. “You have more money than God. Use it. Don’t—” I choke on the rest. “Don’t put yourself in handcuffs for me.”
A pause. “I was doing it for your protection.”
“If this is what your protection looks like, I don’t want it.”
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
He says softly, “Say that again.”
“If this is your protection, I don’t want it,” I say, enunciating each word derisively. “I won’t be the reason you go to prison.”
“I’m not going to prison.”
“You sure?” My laugh breaks. “You followed a man. You broke into his home. You abducted another. You assaulted him. You’re keeping him in a barn like a—like a—”
“Like leverage,” he says. No apology. No shame. “Until I know who’s behind the gifts. Until I know who’s watching you.”
“Then you hire help,” I say. “Real help. You step back. You breathe. You don’t burn down the city.”
“I’m done waiting. Done being the good guy who everyone counts on to do the right thing. Where has that gotten me? Where has it gotten Eagle?”
I rest my forehead on the wheel. The leather smells like heat and old coffee. “Please, Hawk…”
“I can’t sit by and wait for someone to do worse to you, Daniela. I can’t. And I won’t.”
A car pulls past, stereo bass thumping. The mirror rattles. Sweat beads at my hairline even with the AC blowing. The day is too bright, the world too loud.
“What are you going to do with him?” I ask. “With Reyes?”
“Keep him where he is,” he says. “For now. He’ll talk. They always do.”
“They don’t. Not about what matters.”
“He’ll talk to me.” His tone is darker.
My chest tightens. I picture a barn. Dust in the slanted light. Rope biting skin.
I hate Reyes. I do. I hate what he did to me. But this…
This is a different wrong. He deserves it, but Hawk could get in serious trouble. And I can’t lose him. He’s a rancher. He doesn’t understand what kind of person Reyes is. The connections he has. He’s a criminal, and if he gets free, he’ll hunt Hawk down like an animal and make him suffer horrible things.
“You can’t keep him,” I say.
“I can. I will. Until I have what I need.”
“And if he never gives it?”
“Then I’ll find someone else who will.”
My eyes sting with tears. “This isn’t you.”
“This is exactly me.”
“No.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see. “Why didn’t you answer me sooner? I texted you before class started. You left me twisting all day.”
“Because I was working,” he says. “Because I knew you were safe at school, and I had things to do.”
A raw sound tears up my throat. I press my lips together to hold it back. “You should have told me about Jordan.”
“I knew what you’d say,” he says, bitterness lacing his words. “What you already said.”
“I would’ve said don’t. I would’ve said wait.”
“And I can’t,” he says. “I can’t wait while someone fucking ends your life, Dani.”
Rage flares in me. Then fear. Then grief. I don’t know which is bigger.
“I need you sane,” I whisper. “I need you here. Not in a prison cell. Not on the front page. Not—” My breath hitches. “Not gone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t promise that. Not when you’re doing…”