Page 88 of Waging War
Ben cocks a brow. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we can’t give up now. We still have a fighting chance, and I’ve got one last move to make.”
They lock eyes as a silent agreement passes between them, but he’s not the only one hiding cards up his sleeve.
Come hell or high water, we’ll end this war together.
* * *
A familiar twinge of Déjà vu teases my mind as we pull into the parking lot of The Pound the following evening. There’s been this itching under my skin since this morning, and the lingering feeling of doom from last night coats my insides.
After he showered, I held Ben in the early hours of the morning, stroking his back as I listened to every gory detail of what happened at the precinct. The guilt he’d been burying in front of Jackie crumbled the moment he laid his head on my shoulder.
I made a silent vow that we would not only avenge Barron’s wife and children but we would be sure he gets a proper burial once this is over. That level of devastation… When I believed my dad was dead, the ache that spread around my heart was enough to suffocate me daily.
Those girls lost their father to a monster, and they won’t get the reunion I had with mine.
As we approach the back door of The Pound, Ben reaches for the handle and turns toward me. A puff of air crystalizes between us. “You ready?”
It could be our impending doom—or just the man who has broken through each of my barriers—but I raise up on my tippy-toes to kiss him, offering both of us a little comfort.
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. The last time we saw each other, I was running back to Diablo right on Jackie’s heels.” He looks to the ground. “There’s a good chance they’ll never forgive me.”
Placing my hand on his bicep, I give it a tug. “Hey. If I can find a way, so can they.”
Burning blues slide across my face as he brushes a thumb over my cheek. “Thank you.”
“You treat my forgiveness as if it’s a gift.”
A genuine smile finds his lips. “You have no idea.”
Ben gives me a chaste kiss before yanking the door open and pulling me behind him. The familiar dimly lit hall leading to the main bar begins to widen.
“What the fuck?” He halts just before breaking out into the light.
In a swift blur, three dark figures cross our path, heading for the main bar. Ben pushes us against the wall as another set of men stomp by. We’re partially hidden from view, but it won’t be long before we’re discovered.
“Ben?” I peek around his broad shoulders.
Bruce’s men are scattered all over the bar like giant black ants. Several are carrying in large boxes from the front entrance, while others are shoving tables and chairs out of the way to make room.
One of them turns for the hall, and in a rush of panic, Ben spins on me.
“Quick, hide in here and don’t come out until I tell you to.” A door opens in a cool rush, and he shoves me into darkness.
My eyes widen, and I block the door with my hand. “Ben, no!”
“Don’t argue with me, Hazel. For the love of all that is holy, do as you’re told for once.”
Releasing my grip on the door, I step back and watch as the door promptly clicks shut.
Terror seizes my lungs. I press my ear to the door and brace my slick palms against it.
“Hey, boss. You think the kitchen is the best place for this?” a voice asks.
A couple of seconds tick by before Ben’s falling into his given role. His voice is clipped as he addresses the man. “Remi?”
