Reckless Promise

Kellen

It’s a hot night in Phoenix and the streets feel packed with potential. People wander around in groups, shouting, yelling, the air crackling with excitement. I can’t tell if it’s me or if the entire city senses the coming storm.

Tara leans on my arm. She smiles up at me and I let my eyes wander along her nose, to her lips, and down to the ring on her finger. She hasn’t taken it off, not in all this time. Even when we were apart for those miserable three weeks, she kept it in place, thinking of me whenever she glanced down at her hands.

My woman. My wife. That, more than anything, tells me what I need to know. Even in the face of hardship when the world seems bleak and things are black and horrible, she’s still loyal to me.

Even when she has every right and reason in the world to rip that ring off and bury it in the fucking desert, she kept on going.

That’s all I need.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her quietly as we approach my restaurant. It’s the same place where I held my meetings with Burke. Those seem like a lifetime ago. “You can turn back now. In fact, it’d be better if you did.”

“We both know I can’t.”

“We don’t need you. We can do this on our own. If you just walk—”

“Kellen.” She stops and looks me in the eye, smiling, and stands on her toes to kiss my lips. If anyone’s watching, it looks like nothing more than a man and his wife sharing a happy, private moment, even if it’s filled with unspoken subtext. “I need to be here. Even if I’m not vital, I still can’t let you do this alone.”

I let out a frustrated breath but nod once. We’ve discussed this endlessly over the past week, and each time it comes back to this.

Back to loyalty.

I know I’m a fool. I should’ve tied her to the bed and left her there for her own damn safety. But I put an arm over her shoulders and tug her close as we step inside because there’s nothing I can do about it now.

We’re seated toward the back in my usual booth. The room seems normal, though I spot Finn sitting at the bar with Angus. They acknowledge me with a nod and I nod back as we get settled and order drinks.

Tara raises her wine glass and taps it against my whiskey. “To a good night out,” she says, grinning.

I smile back despite the knot of anxiety in my stomach. “To good health and fortune.”

I check my watch: we’re right on schedule. The waitress takes our order and we pass the time chatting about nothing substantial. My back is to the front door, and Tara’s sitting in the seat closest to the kitchen door. That was the one thing I insisted on—if she was coming, she’d be closest to safety.

“You look stressed,” she says, head tilted, finger rolling around the rim of her glass. “Come on, this isn’t a big deal. I thought you did this sort of thing all the time.”

“I do, or we used to, but I hate this plan.” As she well knows.

“You can’t control everything.”

“I can fucking try.”

“Kellen. I don’t want to have this argument again.”

I grunt and reach a hand out. She takes it as the waitress returns with our meals. I sit back, sip my whiskey, and pick at my food, not in the mood to eat much of anything though Tara seems to have her usual appetite. She eats with relish, enjoying herself, and I watch her with a little smile.

No matter what happens, that girl can always eat.

The door opens again and Tara perks up. Her eyes widen and I know what that means. I glance to the bar and Finn and Angus aren’t talking anymore, and they’re not looking toward the hostess’s station, but they’re both sitting very still and very alert. The room hushes slightly.

Three men walk toward our booth. I turn to watch them approach. Clyde is in the lead, smiling. He winks at me. Right behind him is a guard I don’t recognize, a big man with a thick neck. He might be a problem. He scowls all around, and his scowl deepens.

Hugh comes in last.

He looks like hell, despite his best suit. There are bags under his eyes and he’s definitely lost weight since I last saw him at the cottage. He’s walking with a slight limp, and I wonder if he hurt himself running away from the slaughter like a fucking coward.

“Here we go,” Tara whispers.

Clyde stops at my table. The guard stands back, frowning at the room, and I know what he’s thinking. I stand before the fucker can speak up and blow this for me. Hugh stops in front of me and manages a slight smile as we face each other.