Page 50 of Wyatt

“Yeah, I have a son. Almost five years old. And he lives here in Belogorsk in Orphanage 23.” She said it with her gaze hard in his, but behind it, he saw the hurt, the pain of her words.

So he said nothing. Just swallowed. He wanted to ask about the father, but maybe he’d died. Or just wasn’t in their lives.

Or maybe he was, and Kat just didn’t want to mention him.

Really, it didn’t matter. “Why would you come here? It just puts him in danger.”

And that was the wrong thing to say because her eyes filled. And she so didn’t deserve a dressing down from him, of all people.

She’d gotten shot on his watch, thank you very much, so there was that.

“Sorry.” He walked over and sat on the bed opposite her.

“No, you’re right. I just…” She pressed her hands to her face. It jarred him a little seeing her so unraveled.

Kat was always put together. Always organized. Always—well, she lived with the slightest edge of paranoia, so maybe this was the other side.

“I just had to say goodbye.”

Oh. His throat thickened. Right.

Because if she was going to disappear that meant… “I guess Idon’tunderstand. How is it you have a son and he lives…here?”

Tears lined her cheeks as she looked up. “My father convinced me—well, I mean, I agreed, but—it’s just safer for him, you know?”

No, he didn’t know. Because he’d grown up without his parents and itwasn’tbetter. But he didn’t say that, clamping the words inside.

“I mean, if anyone knew who he was, they could kidnap him, hold him for ransom, and—”

“And put pressure on your father, the general.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and scooted back on the bed. Leaned her head against the headboard. “Yeah. It’s why he sent me and my mother to Montana—there was a kidnapping attempt made on me.”

“But you were with your mother—”

Aw, shoot, he shouldn’t have said that because she looked so suddenly beat up. It occurred to him that she’d probably told herself that a thousand times.

“Sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my mind—”

“I was scared! I had this baby, and I didn’t know what to do, and my father…he helped me. I know he’s not exactly the warmest coat in the closet, but he convinced me that Mikka would be safe and that I could visit him all the time, and I did—Ido. Every chance I get. He lives with this woman named Lana, and he’s strong and beautiful and happy, except…” She closed her eyes, the tears still running down her cheeks. “Except I think he might be sick.”

She inhaled, her breath ragged, and looked at him as if he might have answers.

Not a one. “What kind of sick?”

“I don’t know. Lana says he’s fine, and heisan active boy, but he’s got bruises and is getting bloody noses and it…” She wiped her face again. “It reminds me of when my mother first started getting sick.” She drew in another long breath. “She died of leukemia.”

Oh, Kat.

And he wasn’t sure if he should reach out and pull her to himself.

He didn’t do big emotions. They sort of snarled up inside him and cut off his breathing. Close to how he’d felt the first time RJ had kissed him.

Full-out panic followed by a confused desire.

He felt none of that now, however, just a deep sorrow. But before he could move over and reach out to comfort her, Kat shook her head and bounced off the bed.

“What are you doing?”