Page 33 of Coming In Hot
“I promise,” he says, no hesitation, no joking, just a simple vow. “I’ll come back. You have my word.”
I incline my head, a mixture of frustration and relief swirling in my chest. Maybe it’s a stupid thing to ask. Maybe it’s too much. But it’s the only way I can trust him, the only way I can even think about helping him.
And with that, the deal is sealed. The promise settles over me like a noose around my neck. But I’m not walking away from this. Not when he’s given me a promise that feels like it’s as fragile as everything else between us.
“Hey,” he adds, snagging a dehydrated green bean from my tray. “Maybe when I get back, you can finally buy me that dinner.”
The tart sauce sticks to the back of my tongue, choking me as I cough, struggling to breathe. “Not a fucking chance,” I manage to spit out, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Pharo laughs, but it’s light, a little strained, like he's trying to keep things casual. I know he’s probably expecting me to crack a joke, or at least smile, but I can’t muster it.
I shoot him a look—one part annoyance, one part I don’t know. “You’re lucky I’m doing this for you at all, let alone the fact that you’re still talking about dinner after all this shit.”
Pharo shrugs, his lips quirking up slightly, but he knows better than to push it. “Yeah, well, I’m still holding out hope.”
I turn away, grabbing the tray and heading to the trash. The thought ofeverbuying him a meal, after everything, feels like a betrayal of something I can't quite describe. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I’m still pissed.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mutter, tossing the tray into the bin. “And don’t forget your promise to come back in one piece. Otherwise, you won’t even get a green bean from me.”
His expression softens just a bit, and he nods, acknowledging the significance of his promise.
“Deal,” he says again, the word carrying more meaning now than it did before.
Pharo leans in close. His thumb brushes across my lip, wiping away the sauce from the corner of my mouth, which I must’ve missed. The touch is slow, deliberate, a reminder of the history between us I can’t forget. He doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he sucks the sauce from his thumb, his golden eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me shiver. The heat in those eyes is unmistakable, a promise that feels too close for comfort, too dangerous to entertain.
For a second, time feels like it stops. There’s no sound except for the thudding of my heart in my chest. He’s so damn close, the warmth of his breath brushing against my skin. I want to push him away, but I can’t. My body’s betraying me in ways I can’t explain.
He steps back, leaving me standing there in the kitchen, frozen. He doesn’t say another word.
He doesn’t need to.
I’m left staring after him, caught between the man I used to know, the one who had a place in my life I can’t fully erase, and the one I’m still trying to figure out—the one who’s asking for more than I know how to give.
And that’s the part I’m most afraid of.
CHAPTER12
PHARO
The deafening roarof the engine drowns out everything—except the gnawing feeling in my gut that something's about to go wrong.
It’s a feeling I haven’t been able to shake since Arlo was injured.
I grip the controls tightly, feeling the vibration snake up my arm. The vast Egyptian desert stretches below us, endless and unforgiving, with the ancient pyramids rising from the sand in the distance. The sun is low in the sky, casting everything in a golden haze.
The team’s quiet in the back, all of them laser-focused, scanning the horizon for anything out of place. The businessmen we’re transporting are nervously shifting in their seats, looking out of the windows like they can’t believe they’re here, hovering over this ancient land where history bleeds into the present. They’re out of their element, but I can’t afford to care about that. My eyes stay locked ahead, eyes sharp and alert. I’m not here for sightseeing.
We’re heading into Jordan to drop them off—a routine job on paper, but nothing’s ever routine when you're doing this kind of work. I’m not thinking about that, though. I’m thinking about the promise I made to Jax, to return home in one piece, alive and well.
Why would he ask that of me? He’s never cared before. Why now?
I shake the thoughts away, refocusing on the job at hand. There’s no room for distraction when you’re flying through hostile airspace. The helicopter dips slightly as we start our descent. Our passengers are quiet. They don’t realize yet that the moment we touch down, they’ll be in the middle of a conflict zone that features almost nightly on the news.
I breathe out slowly, eyes flicking over the instruments as I adjust course. The landing zone’s coming into view. The barren desert stretches ahead. The dust storm that’s kicked up doesn’t help, but it’s just another thing to deal with.
“Get ready,” I murmur to my team.
The helicopter settles onto the ground, and I pull back slightly on the controls to steady us. The moment the wheels hit the sand, the businessmen unbuckle, eager to get out, but I don’t move just yet. I’m scanning the horizon, every muscle in my body on alert. It’s too quiet out here. Something feels off.
