aware that it would cut him so deeply he would never be open to that kind of hurt again. He had thought the damn thing—his heart—had been blackened long ago. But the kind of hurt he was feeling now could only mean that a faint beat still lingered. One that he wanted to extinguish for good.
Love is pain.
Dax’s angst dulled his senses. He didn’t notice the brown sedan pull out behind him as he marched determinedly back to his borrowed bike and gunned the motor, ignoring the interested group of sarong-clad bikini girls who watched him from the sidewalk. On a mission to determine what exactly was going on, Dax sped straight to Rhee’s secluded little cottage. He had questions. Lots of them. And the origin of a little girl with golden hair topped his list.
Dax was off his bike before the engine died down. He stormed straight back through the garden to Rhee’s door. He raised his hand to pound on it. Part of him wanted to just kick the damn thing in. Just like last time, the door swung open before he had a chance to signal his arrival. The woman, Manali, ushered him inside as though she had been expecting him. She looked him up and down, and then nodded to herself with a secret smile.
He knew that his anger was obvious. There was no way to hide it. Dax opened his mouth to interrogate Manali but she silenced him with a shake of her head. There was something about the older woman that Dax respected. She held a quiet authority and he knew instinctively that having her in his corner would be helpful. It was a struggle, but Dax managed to kept his mouth shut as he followed her into the garden.
The backyard oasis infiltrated his fury, cooling his rage. It was a place you could imagine settling down in. The cottage was snug and surrounded by lush foliage. The distant sound of water and gulls floated into the yard to mingle with the smell of hibiscus and plumeria. Several palm trees provided shade. In short, it was paradise. And he had no right to be there. A man like him didn’t belong.
Dax stiffened, wondering what the hell he was doing. I shouldn’t be here. No, he shouldn’t, his fickle conscience agreed. He should seal his deal and go home, never to return. Dax’s jaw set into a grim line as he turned on his heel to walk back out the gate.
A gentle hand stilled him, the light pressure on his arm was oddly compelling. He regarded the wizened old face quizzically.
“She is just there, down the trail. Go.”
At first he didn’t know which female Manali referred to—the adult or the child. He wasn’t even sure which one he sought at the moment. Even though the idea of being a father twisted his gut, he had to see that little girl again. He had only laid eyes on the child for a moment, but he knew. Rhee’s reaction had told all. That child was his. She had to be. The timing, Rhiannon’s swift departure—-all of it added up. And Rhee had known when she left. The stowaway left for a reason. Of course she did. Rhee had probably figured out the truth—that he’d be the world’s most fucked up parent. Look at his childhood, for shit’s sake. He was no good for either of them, especially a baby.
I should leave her be. I should leave both of them be.
***
Manali took the boy’s hands in her own weathered ones. Her intuition told her that his spirit was strong, but also that he was in a great deal of pain. Most of the lost boys were. This one held a lot of old pain in his heart. It was deep-seated hurt, the kind that ate you up from the inside out. Manali hadn’t seen such a dark shade of black on a boy’s heart in a long while. The hurt reflected in his eyes, buried under layers and layers of anger and sadness. Her fingers went to the large, onyx pendant that she wore around her neck. It was an old talisman that Manali inherited from her grandmother. Her ancestor often said that the pendant carried wisdom of the gods. She grasped the lost boy’s hand tightly, trying to communicate the secrets of the island
Love is pain.
Dax’s angst dulled his senses. He didn’t notice the brown sedan pull out behind him as he marched determinedly back to his borrowed bike and gunned the motor, ignoring the interested group of sarong-clad bikini girls who watched him from the sidewalk. On a mission to determine what exactly was going on, Dax sped straight to Rhee’s secluded little cottage. He had questions. Lots of them. And the origin of a little girl with golden hair topped his list.
Dax was off his bike before the engine died down. He stormed straight back through the garden to Rhee’s door. He raised his hand to pound on it. Part of him wanted to just kick the damn thing in. Just like last time, the door swung open before he had a chance to signal his arrival. The woman, Manali, ushered him inside as though she had been expecting him. She looked him up and down, and then nodded to herself with a secret smile.
He knew that his anger was obvious. There was no way to hide it. Dax opened his mouth to interrogate Manali but she silenced him with a shake of her head. There was something about the older woman that Dax respected. She held a quiet authority and he knew instinctively that having her in his corner would be helpful. It was a struggle, but Dax managed to kept his mouth shut as he followed her into the garden.
The backyard oasis infiltrated his fury, cooling his rage. It was a place you could imagine settling down in. The cottage was snug and surrounded by lush foliage. The distant sound of water and gulls floated into the yard to mingle with the smell of hibiscus and plumeria. Several palm trees provided shade. In short, it was paradise. And he had no right to be there. A man like him didn’t belong.
Dax stiffened, wondering what the hell he was doing. I shouldn’t be here. No, he shouldn’t, his fickle conscience agreed. He should seal his deal and go home, never to return. Dax’s jaw set into a grim line as he turned on his heel to walk back out the gate.
A gentle hand stilled him, the light pressure on his arm was oddly compelling. He regarded the wizened old face quizzically.
“She is just there, down the trail. Go.”
At first he didn’t know which female Manali referred to—the adult or the child. He wasn’t even sure which one he sought at the moment. Even though the idea of being a father twisted his gut, he had to see that little girl again. He had only laid eyes on the child for a moment, but he knew. Rhee’s reaction had told all. That child was his. She had to be. The timing, Rhiannon’s swift departure—-all of it added up. And Rhee had known when she left. The stowaway left for a reason. Of course she did. Rhee had probably figured out the truth—that he’d be the world’s most fucked up parent. Look at his childhood, for shit’s sake. He was no good for either of them, especially a baby.
I should leave her be. I should leave both of them be.
***
Manali took the boy’s hands in her own weathered ones. Her intuition told her that his spirit was strong, but also that he was in a great deal of pain. Most of the lost boys were. This one held a lot of old pain in his heart. It was deep-seated hurt, the kind that ate you up from the inside out. Manali hadn’t seen such a dark shade of black on a boy’s heart in a long while. The hurt reflected in his eyes, buried under layers and layers of anger and sadness. Her fingers went to the large, onyx pendant that she wore around her neck. It was an old talisman that Manali inherited from her grandmother. Her ancestor often said that the pendant carried wisdom of the gods. She grasped the lost boy’s hand tightly, trying to communicate the secrets of the island
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