“No. Some guy in Arizona told me I have a gift. It’s not the same thing.” And to think he’d been afraid Bella would think he was crazy. He clearly should have been prepared for the opposite reaction.
“How would you know?—”
“Gordy!” A woman hurried up. “I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you. Gordy, you’re supposed to stay with the group.”
Falcon shoved Bella behind him and moved his body between the woman and Bella. “He’s not bothering us,” Falcon said.
Bella leaned around him. “He was helping me build my sandcastle.”
“He’s supposed to stay with the group. I can’t keep track of them if they run off.” The woman took Gordy’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go back with the others.”
She smiled at Falcon and Bella, and then headed off with Gordy. Falcon watched as the woman took him toward a group of eleven kids. They were all wearing matching turquoise tee shirts, he realized. “Field trip?”
“Maybe.” Bella stood beside him, watching as closely as he was.
Because they both had the same instinct. “Foster kids?” he asked finally.
“Or underprivileged kids,” Bella said. “I can feel it. Can’t you? They’re like us. Like we were.”
“Yeah, they are.” He wanted to go ask questions. He wanted to find out more. But today wasn’t about those kids. Today was about keeping Bella alive.
The kids would have to wait.
“Do you want to go over there and talk to them?” Bella asked.
Yes. But no. If Gordy thought he was a monster, so would the others. There was no way he was throwing more trauma in their direction. “Nope. I’m good.” He quickly surveyed the beach to see if there were any threats, saw about a hundred people who were all within shooting range of Bella, and decided to get them the hell off the sand. “Let’s go. Back to the house.”
“To the house?” She frowned at him. “But?—”
“Did you forget that someone was hunting you last night?”
She blinked. “Hunting me?”
“Yeah.” He put his hand on her lower back and guided her toward the boardwalk.
She looked over at him. “Your hand is burning my back.”
“I know.”
“Don’t you want to help Gordy?”
“He thinks I’m a monster.”
Her face softened. “You’re not a monster.”
“No?” He was rethinking fast and hard his desire to be a foster parent. If Gordy had thought he was a monster, would he be doing more harm than good if he tossed his scarred ass into the lives of traumatized kids?
Fuck. He would, wouldn’t he? He looked back over at the group of kids Gordy was with and his jaw hardened. Those kids need something he couldn’t provide them: a feeling of being safe.
Theywouldbe safe with him, but if they didn’t believe it…
And maybe they wouldn’t be safe with him.
Maybe they’d become hunted just like Bella.
Which meant he wasn’t good for any of them.
For anyone.