Darkest Before Dawn

“Your brother is right,” her father said from behind them.

Honor turned and bowed her head when she realized the entire family had followed Brad to the back porch and had heard every damning word.

“You will not bow your head as though you have something to be ashamed of,” her mother said fiercely. “You were a victim. This is not your fault. This is not your doing. And by God, we will all be with you every step of the way.”

Honor lifted her gaze to see the same determination in every family member’s eyes. And she burst into tears all over again.

Mandie walked forward, taking the only other seat on the other side of Honor so that Honor was sandwiched between her and Brad.

“Will you tell us about it now, Honor? We’ve known that you’ve been holding back. That something hurt you terribly, but you’ve refused to speak of it. You can only go so long before you break.”

“I’m already broken,” Honor said bleakly.

Brad cupped her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “The hell you are. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever known. You may be down but you aren’t out. Not by a long shot. And if you’ll let us help you, if you’ll confide in us, we can help you. You can’t keep this bottled up any longer. Lean on us, honey. That’s what family is for. You’d do the same for us and you know it. You’d never accept silence from one of us if you knew we were hurting, and we’re damn sure not going to accept it from you. I believe in you, Honor. Even if you don’t believe in yourself right now.”

She leaned into him, hugging him, wrapping herself completely around him, holding on for dear life. She squeezed her eyes shut as more tears streamed soundlessly down her cheeks. Her muffled “I love you” was returned gruffly by Brad.

And then she told them every single part that she’d left out. About her falling in love with Hancock and his promise, after making love to her, that he’d find another way. That he wouldn’t sacrifice her for the greater good. And that he’d lied and how that, not anything else done to her, had destroyed her.

When she was finished, she was exhausted and nauseated. Her family was furious, their rage evident in their eyes, their expressions and their words.

But they surrounded her with their love and unconditional support. Plans were made. OB visits were divided up so that one of her family would always be there with her. Her father immediately began planning an addition to Honor’s bedroom so the baby would have a nursery but always be close enough that Honor could hear the infant.

Honor’s hands slipped down over her belly to the slight bump there she’d assumed was a result of her gaining back badly needed weight after she had nearly starved herself. According to the doctor, she was right at four months along. How could she not have known until now?

Looking back, all the signs and symptoms were there. Overwhelming fatigue, nausea, tenderness in her breasts and being overly emotional. But after what she’d been through, how could she have thought it could be anything but the fallout from that?

In some strange way, she welcomed the thought of having Hancock’s child. A piece of him that would live on through her. The very best part of them both. And if it was a boy, she would raise his child to be the man Hancock wanted to be but thought he could never be. He would have Hancock’s drive to protect others, and he would have his mother’s strength and courage.

If it was a girl, she’d have the thread of steel that infused Hancock’s will and his determination for justice. And Honor would teach her to never undervalue herself. To follow her heart and her dreams and to never avoid the road less traveled.

She would cherish this child as the gift it was. Her only regret was that Hancock would never know his child and never know that he was capable of loving and protecting and that he would never hurt what belonged to him.

His child was his blood. Honor wasn’t. While he could sacrifice Honor for his mission, she knew that he’d never sacrifice his own flesh and blood.

CHAPTER 44

HONOR’S mother appeared on the back porch, a frown on her face. “There’s a man here to see you. He says it’s important.”

Honor glanced up, trepidation skittering up her spine. But no, she had no reason to fear. Her family was here. Nothing would happen to her.

“Show him back here,” Honor said in a low voice. “And please. Give us privacy until I know what it is he has to say.”

Her mother looked as though she’d argue, but resolve was centered in Honor’s eyes and so, tight-lipped, her mother nodded and disappeared, leaving Honor to wait and worry over her unexpected visitor.

A few moments later, the door opened and for a moment she refused to look up. Then she swallowed, refusing to be the coward she’d been for so long, and she lifted her gaze, shock hitting her like a bolt of lightning.

“Conrad?”

He nodded grimly.

“We will be just inside,” her mother said, more to Conrad than to Honor. It was a clear warning, one that brought a small smile to Conrad’s lips.

“I have no intention of hurting your daughter, Mrs. Cambridge,” Conrad said gently. “But I would like to speak to her privately.”

Cynthia nodded and reluctantly withdrew, though Honor knew the entire family would be gathered just inside the doorway, watching them the entire time.

“You look like hell,” he said bluntly as he took a seat across from the swing Honor occupied.

“I could say the same for you,” she said dryly.

“Touché,” he said wryly. “But you concern me, Honor. You don’t look well at all.”