Everything He Had Not Said

Damen arrived at ten with a folder, Hannah's phone charger, and the cardigan she had left over the back of his kitchen chair.

The cardigan nearly broke her resolve before he spoke.

Rebecca let him in, looked between them, and announced that she needed groceries. She had no intention of being discreet about the fact that she was giving them privacy.

After the door closed, Damen set the cardigan beside Hannah. "You wear it when you are cold in the morning."

"Thank you."

He nodded, remaining in the chair opposite hers. He looked tired. A faint shadow darkened his jaw, and she could tell from the way he sat that his side still hurt.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Yes. Mrs. Alvarez watched."

She almost smiled. He saw it, and something in his face eased.

He opened the folder. "There are things we can establish, and things we are still trying to prove. I will keep them separate."

He began with the photograph. Lillian and Sophia had met at St. Agnes, where Lillian worked and Sophia volunteered with a children's charity. Their friendship had continued irregularly for years. When Sophia needed somewhere Victor would not immediately search, she had gone to Lillian.

"The address on your note belonged to a retired nurse who rented a room behind her house," Damen said. "Your mother arranged for Sophia to stay there. The warning was written when Sophia gave Lillian the photograph and an address to keep together. Victor was not supposed to know where she was."

Hannah ran a finger over her mother's handwriting. "Did he know about me?"

"He knew Lillian had a daughter. There is no indication you mattered to him until Cole gave his people your name. You were never hidden from my family, Hannah. There is no secret about your birth."

She exhaled slowly. "Why did Sophia not come to you?"

His expression tightened. "She had defended Victor for years. I had told her that if she stayed with him, she should stop asking me to repair what he broke."

He looked down at his hands.

"I thought I was being firm. I thought she would come when she was ready. Instead, I taught her that she needed to apologize before she asked me for help."

Hannah understood then why her own apologies unsettled him so much. She reached for his hand before deciding whether she meant to.

He turned his palm upward, but did not close it around hers until she settled her fingers there.

"We found one of Victor's former drivers," he continued. "He left Chicago after the accident. Marco located him yesterday. He says Victor sent two men after Sophia when she left the room your mother found for her. They were supposed to bring her back. Her car crashed while they were pursuing her."

Hannah swallowed. "And they let everyone believe it was an ordinary accident."

"They made certain there was no reason to look further. The driver will give a statement now. He has documents connecting the men to Victor, but I do not know how much of it will survive scrutiny."

"The picture Evan sent?"

"Victor had people watching Sophia before she disappeared. It came from his records. Cole thought showing it to you would make you come to him."

She looked at the folder, furious at the way Evan could still reach for whatever would frighten her most.

"My mother was ill for months," she said. "She could have told me."

"Perhaps she thought the danger had ended with Sophia. Perhaps she did not know how to explain something she had promised to keep private. I cannot answer for her."

That answer made Hannah trust him more than a comforting guess would have.

For a while they sat together, holding hands over the distance between the chairs.

"What are you afraid to tell me now?" she asked.

Damen looked up.

"You have explained everybody else. I am asking about you."

He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. "I am afraid that if I let you see enough, you will make a perfectly reasonable decision to leave."

Her throat tightened.

"I have done things you would find difficult to forgive," he said. "I cannot promise that knowing me will always feel safe. I can tell you that I have never wanted to be understood by someone more, and I have never been less certain how to let it happen."

She moved from her chair to sit beside him.

"I do not need you to become a different man every time you speak to me," she said. "I need you to stop sending a version of yourself you think I can manage."

He rested his forehead against hers. His breath shook once before he steadied it.

"I missed you," he said.

It was so unadorned that tears stung her eyes.

"I missed you, too. I was very annoyed about it."

He laughed softly and kissed her. There was no uncertainty about whether he wanted her this time. His hand cupped the back of her head, and she leaned into him, feeling the effort with which he kept the kiss gentle.

When he drew back, she stayed close.

"I love you," she said, surprising herself with how little she wanted to hide it. "That is why this hurt."

His eyes closed for a moment.

"I love you, Hannah. I should have told you before you had to wonder."

She kissed him again, then reached for her cardigan.

"Take me home," she said.

That night, they crossed the corridor into his bedroom together. She stood beside his bed while he slipped the cardigan from her shoulders, his fingers lingering at the soft skin beneath her collar.

"Your side," she reminded him.

"I have been receiving excellent care."

She laughed against his mouth. He undressed her slowly, letting the tension turn warm instead of hurried. When she reached for the lamp, he caught her hand and kissed her fingertips, then waited until she left the light on herself.

The faded marks on her arm were still visible. He touched her there once, lightly, before returning his attention to her face. She was grateful that he did not make her scars the center of the evening.

He told her she was beautiful when she smiled at him, and again when she stopped trying to hide how much she wanted him. Later, beneath the sheets, he held her close enough that she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

"Are you comfortable?" he murmured.

"I will be if you stop trying to give me the entire pillow."

He drew it back an inch. She laughed, and he kissed her shoulder until she turned into his arms.

For the next week, happiness existed alongside precautions. Marco reviewed the men assigned to the clinic and found indications that somebody in the temporary relief crew had been paid by Cole. The contractor supplied guards to half a dozen businesses; the name involved was still being checked. Until the review was complete, Hannah used familiar drivers and confirmed changes directly with Marco.

Victor requested a meeting over their shared freight terminal. Damen told her about it over breakfast instead of waiting until afterward.

"He wants me to surrender our operating interest," he said. "He is using Cole to make the alternative unpleasant."

"Because of me?"

"Because he thinks loving someone has made me easier to bargain with."

She touched his hand. "Has it?"

He met her eyes. "It has made me less willing to waste time."

Two afternoons later, she left the clinic with Anthony, whom she knew from the house, while another guard walked ahead to the car. A delivery truck blocked the narrow exit from the staff lot. Anthony asked her to wait inside the entrance while he spoke to the driver.

The other guard turned back. Hannah recognized him from two previous shifts, but he was watching Anthony instead of the street.

Then the delivery truck's passenger door opened.

She saw Evan and understood before he moved. She sent the message already open on her phone: Evan. Staff lot. Delivery truck.

The guard lunged for her hand. She threw the phone through the clinic doorway and shouted Anthony's name.

Anthony turned as the truck driver struck him. Hannah reached for the door handle, but Evan caught her from behind. She fought hard enough to lose a shoe and heard someone inside the clinic shout.

"You should have answered me," Evan hissed against her ear.

He dragged her toward the truck. Across the lot, Anthony was trying to rise. Hannah shouted again, loud enough for the clinic to hear, before the door slammed between them.