Anthony stood outside the bathroom and listened to Christy vomiting up her breakfast. It brought back memories of the day he abducted her. Only this time, he was positive he knew the cause, even if she didn’t.

He thought about the day almost four months ago when he went to see Lenny Renquest. He hadn’t been angry with Christy for lying to him about Abigail’s father. He’d been concerned that his original assumption that she was raped by her father, Van, was true. And that she was still carrying a burden so weighted by shame that she couldn’t bear to share it with him.

He’d determined then to do some snooping of his own. Remembering the shoebox that contained pictures of Abby, he decided to see if there was anything else in there that could confirm his suspicions. He’d stood alone in their closet and delicately sifted through more photos, some letters from Litzy and other mementos and keepsakes. When he got to the bottom of the box, he felt his jaw tense in anger. He’d been expecting to find something that would offer a shred of proof of Abby’s biological father. Not tangible evidence of why he still wasn’t one himself.

Unbeknownst to Christy, it was then that he put a plan into action. A plan that would prove whether he was capable of fathering a child. He’d had enough connections in the drug and pharmaceutical industries to pull it off. And standing outside the bathroom door, he now believed that he had.

He rapped lightly on the door. “Are you okay, Owani?” he asked and was surprised when it opened so quickly.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Apparently, breakfast didn’t agree with me.”

“Isn’t this the third day breakfast hasn’t agreed with you?” His dark eyes followed her as she walked to their dresser and bent over a drawer. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

He watched her back stiffen and knew he’d just provided an option she hadn’t considered. She turned around and gave him a big smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It’s dawning on her, he thought. And she’s wondering how it could be possible.

“Maybe,” she told him, and he couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t look happy. She looked worried.

“I’ll see a doctor when we get back from our trip,” she offered. Changing the subject, she asked, “I’m all packed and ready. We can leave as early as you want tomorrow. Do you think Kit will be at this one? She doesn’t like to go to any of them. It would be nice to see her.”

Christy was referring to the organized annual gathering of South Florida bikers. Rival gangs called a once a year truce and agreed to temporarily wave the white flag to meet with each other and nonviolently air their grievances. Even though Anthony didn’t consider his group a formal club, he still had enough of an influence to require his attendance.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I have to call Grizz for something else, so I’ll ask him.”

And Anthony did call Grizz. From the privacy of his office he asked, almost begged Grizz to make sure Kit accompanied him to the meeting. “Christy needs a friend now.” Anthony raked his hand down his face. “I don’t know. There’s something going on with her. Something she’s not telling me. I thought we were good, but now…” His words drifted off. Grizz assured him he’d do his best to convince Kit to be there.

Anthony didn’t tell Grizz that he suspected Christy was pregnant. He wanted to see if Christy would confide in Kit and if so, try to figure out why she wouldn’t tell him. Why didn’t she, after more than two years of trying to conceive, seem happy? Was this all a ruse because she didn’t want to be legally married to him? The thought pierced his heart. What if his trickery would come back to haunt him? What if they were bringing a child into the world that Christy didn’t want?

Anthony stood in his office and looked at the phone he’d just hung up. His pain turned to anger, and without telling Christy where he was going, he headed for the camp. When he got there, he passed Gloria coming out of a bunkhouse. Without acknowledging her, he headed straight for his hatchet that was buried in a stump.

He hurled his ax through the air hitting the target dead on each time. He'd retrieved it after about the tenth throw and was getting ready to hurl it again when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It was Gloria.

“What’s wrong, Anthony?” came her calm voice. "You've seemed happier than I've ever seen you, but not today. What's changed?"

His lips were set in a thin line, his eyes unreadable. She didn’t think he was going to answer her.

“What’s changed? Obviously, nothing,” he said, his voice sarcastic. “The woman I’m in love with, the one I want to marry, the one I’ve tried to marry, is still hiding from me. She’s keeping secrets. She won’t let me in.”

“Your Christy is an enigma," Gloria said, nodding her head. "I’ve never met anyone like her, Anthony. She could be sunning herself on the French Riviera or gambling with a James Bond lookalike in Monte Carlo. Heck, she could fly to Italy for a pizza and fly back the same night. And she’s not doing any of those things. She’s here. With you. She spends her days passing out antibiotics and baby formula to hookers. Adopting maimed animals and opening parks and clinics. Why do you think that is?” She tilted her head to one side as she waited for his answer.

“I don’t know,” he told her, his anger subsiding. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Because she loves you, Anthony! How can you not see that?” Gloria asked.

“Because there’s stuff she won’t share with me. Because she won’t marry me,” he huffed.

Gloria gave him a kind smile. “It sounds like she’s hiding something, but I don’t think it has anything to do with whether or not she loves you. And truthfully, you can’t press someone into telling you something they don’t want to.” She looked away and then quickly looked up at him. “Well, I suppose you could,” she said somewhat sheepishly. “But I’m talking more about secrets of the heart.”

He nodded and gave an audible sigh. As if waking up from a dream, he took in his surroundings and realized what he could've done out of anger. If he'd run across the wrong person, he had no doubt he'd have beaten them within an inch of their life.

Swiping his hand through his hair and taking a calming breath he said, "Thanks, Gloria. Thanks for talking to me."

"Anytime, Anthony," she said as she patted his huge arm.

“Did Ron know you were this smart when he married you?” he teased.

“No,” she teased back. “But then again, there’s still a lot Ron doesn’t know about me.” She gave Anthony a wink as she headed for her car.