***
Later that evening, after I’d fixed her some tempura veggies and chicken, we curled up on the sofa. I was nuzzling her neck, when she put a hand over mine, her blue eyes growing solemn. My heart slowed, and I worried that something was going wrong with George’s appeal, that the lunatic might be out on a technicality. Shit, was it Carol? Surely that crazy bitch couldn’t be up for release from the hospital. I knew Belle and her parents didn’t feel that way about her, that they were still convinced the girl they had to have known over Christmases and birthdays was still there, deep inside.
I was far less charitable.
After all, I’d been the one to stop her from shooting Belle in cold blood. I’d seen that look in her eye, and it hadn’t been madness. Fuck if I didn’t know being crazy when I saw it. No, that gleam in her eye had been deliberate and calculating. That bitch wasn’t getting near Belle. I’d never let her.
I curled my arms tighter around her and braced for the news. “Is it Carol or George? Your mom’s still okay, right?”
She frowned. “Wait, why do you automatically think it’s something bad?”
“Because you’re being very serious out of nowhere. I figured you were delivering bad news.”
Belle’s eyes seemed to shine with tears. “I don’t think it’s bad, not at all, but I guess it has to depend on your perspective. Have you ever thought about our future?”
“I thought we settled that one. We’re going to Haiti and Nottingham and off to South America on a grand world tour. That seems pretty straight forward, at least for the next six months.”
“I meant after,” she said, snuggling up into my arms. “I was wondering if you had plans for after that. You have the PR company to run and I really do want to split time between helping Dad with the charity and also overseeing the center in the Bahamas. My career stuff isn’t even that hard to figure out.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I wanted to know how you felt about kids.”
I raked a hand through my hair and pulled away from her. I didn’t want to, but I needed some space, needed to pace out my frustrations. That was something I hadn’t thought about. I mean, was there a reason to? She was on the pill so it wasn’t even a question for right now. Besides, we were having fun, hadn’t even gotten married yet, since she’d wanted to wait until after she graduated to deal with wedding plans.
“Honestly?”
“Yes,” she said, letting one hand come to rest over her stomach, almost as if she were cradling it. “I do want to talk about that.”
“Belle, I don’t think I’d be a good father. I mean, fuck that, I know I wouldn’t be an adequate one.”
“If this is about the BDSM, well, it’s not like we’re going to show the kids a playroom, and it’s always locked anyway.”
“No, that’s fine. Kink’s not the problem. I mean that I am,” I said, pacing so much that I felt like I was wearing a hole in the carpet. “I haven’t had a phone call with my parents longer than five minutes in over a decade. I can count on one hand the amount of hugs I’ve had from Dad. I just don’t even know what good parenting looks like.”
“You’ve seen my mom and dad with me. Besides, you’re the most nurturing, protective person I know. I think you’d be a natural.”
“It’s not like riding a bicycle,” I said. “You don’t just magically get it out of the blue. I think you’re either programmed to be a dad or you’re not, and I’m definitely not.”
Belle began to cry then. “Please don’t say that.”
I felt like shit seeing her like that, but I didn’t know what else to say. Striding over to the couch, I placed a hand on her shoulder but didn’t sit down next to her or scoop her in my arms. I just couldn’t.
“Belle, I work really hard to fight through the PTSD, but I still have my moments. I can be dangerous.”
“I don’t really believe that. You’re completely different from the man I met and really got to know on the island.”
“I don’t think beasts get to have children,” I joked, even though neither of us laughed.
“I guess I see where you stand,” she said, hopping up and running to our bedroom.
Confused, I rushed after her, pounding on the door when I couldn’t turn the knob. “Belle, princess, we need to talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk. Go away, just… just go away.”
What the fuck have I done now?