Arms of Promise

by Crystal Walton

  Sirens clipped on in the background, followed by tires screeching. “O’Riley, don’t do anything stu—”

  Evan hung up and arched a brow at Casanova. “Ready?”

  Murphy flexed his laced hands. “Let’s do this.”

  They crept out of the car and slinked along the park’s perimeter. The stench of urine rose from the shadowy corners with crude reminders of the life drug addictions drove people to.

  Not slowing down, he and Murphy came up behind Painter and the two guys lagging five paces back. Three against two was nothing, especially with these punks.

  Evan motioned for Murphy to take the one on the left. “On my mark,” he mouthed. He signaled with three fingers. On the last, they each locked the guys in a sleeper hold until they went limp enough to drop.

  Painter whipped around, gun raised. One shot. Two. Pops shuddered across the open yard. All that pride in waving his Glock around, and he couldn’t hit a target if his life depended on it.

  Evan disarmed him and nailed a blow to his jaw. He twisted Painter’s arm around his back and butted him against the hood of the Impala, face down. “One busted lip for another.”

  “Get off me.” He shoved back, and Evan ground his cheek harder into the hood. Just the thought of his hands anywhere near Anna sent a dangerous level of adrenaline through Evan’s veins.

  “Easy.” Murphy cast Evan a warning glance and took over securing Painter.

  Evan backed up, palms lifted. Probably better that way.

  Sirens neared. Blue and white lights circled the shadows as a cruiser pulled up beside them. Harris and his partner got out with weapons drawn. Harris’s gaze swept the scene, skimming over the two guys down in the grass. “O’Riley, what the—?”

  “All by the book, Corporal. Promise.” He jutted his chin at the Impala. “There are your stolen plates to go along with the illegal gun Painter’s been brandishing. Not to mention whatever drugs you find on him. Take your pick which charge to bust him for first.”

  Harris holstered his gun and motioned for his partner to cuff Painter.

  Murphy handed him over with an extra shove.

  While Harris grabbed his shoulder mic to radio in the call, Murphy leaned over to Evan. “That was too easy, bro. Next time, you at least gotta let me wear a cape to make it interesting.”

  Harris shook a blank face at them. “Just a couple of vigilantes. You got a bat signal I can use next time I need it?”

  Murphy took one look at Evan and busted up. Like he needed any more ammo to keep riding this Batman joke he enjoyed way too much.

  “Now that you mention it,” Murphy said. “It’s not a bad idea.”

  Evan pushed him in the opposite direction and scowled at Harris. “Don’t encourage him.”

  “Looks like you do that all on your own.” After his partner steered Painter into the back of the squad car, Harris pulled out a pen and notepad. “Which of you wants to give me their statement first?”

  Murphy deferred to Evan. “You’re the one with the photos.”

  “Photos? How did you . . . ?” Harris raised a hand. “On second thought, never mind.” He flipped open the pad. “Okay, give it to me from the top.”

  His partner cuffed the other two guys, still on the ground, while Evan and Murphy each gave Harris the lowdown on what happened.

  “Good work, O’Riley.” Harris planted a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “But do me a favor and leave the police work to me, huh, tough guy?”

  Evan refrained from pointing out the PD had been looking for Painter for hours with no leads, while he found him in less than one. Didn’t matter. They had the perp in custody. And with a list of offenses to add to his record of priors, he likely wasn’t getting out for a while.

  Evan wiped his brow across his sleeve. One threat down. Painter didn’t have the kind of loyalty to warrant worrying about who he left on the outside. Michelli on the other hand . . .

  His men had been lying low, loitering in the distance. Why hadn’t they made any moves? Whatever game they were playing, it unnerved Evan. Something didn’t feel right.

  He clenched Anna’s keys in his pocket and released them just as quickly. Even with her dad’s men staking out the apartment, he had to get back to her.

  Once he wrapped things up with Harris and dropped Murphy off at his Jeep, Evan returned to Stonybrook. He tiptoed inside Anna’s apartment and knelt beside her. An unconscious rhythm moved her chest as she slept. Peaceful and safe. Unaware of the dangers stalking her as much as the ones stalking his heart.

  He lifted a strand of hair from her cheek and left a kiss in its place. As much as he wanted to sleep with her in his arms, he took up post in the armchair facing the door. She still looked to him for safety, despite the ways he’d failed her in the past. Keeping her alive and in his life were the only things that mattered. He wouldn’t jeopardize that. Not now.

  He craned his head toward the ceiling. One more shot. Just give me one more shot to keep my promise. He closed his eyes and released a long breath. A little grace to make it through tomorrow wouldn’t hurt either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Surrendered

  Showered and dressed to hit the studio early, Anna squatted in front of the chair Evan had fallen asleep on. Neck down, arms limp, legs hanging off the side. He really could sleep in any position.

  With the slightest nudge to his shoulder, he jerked awake, gun raised.

  She teetered backward on her feet. “Whoa, Sarge. Easy.”

  His sleep-covered gaze ricocheted off all four corners of the room before his arms so much as twitched. “Sorry.” He hobbled up to his feet and rotated his creaky neck. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all.

  “I hope it’s all right I stayed.”

  If he only knew what she was really thinking. “Of course. The couch would’ve been a lot more comfortable, though.”

  Flushing, Evan secured his gun and combed his fingers through his messy hair. His rumpled shirt stayed caught above the holster, revealing a sliver of skin beneath his hip.

  Wow. What she’d give to wake up to this sight every day, to relive last night again and again. The way he’d held her in his hotel stairwell, told her he was home. She’d never felt more safe, more cherished. Right then, she’d surrendered her heart. The war was pointless, anyway. It always had been.

  Maybe it was dangerous to hope his comfort had been more than just his protective nature. She couldn’t prevent the clock from ticking and separating them again, and he belonged in Georgia with his team. But what if he’d be willing to leave his heart here with her? Could she take the risk to find out?

  Anna pulled in her bottom lip, words not coming. Maybe if she showed him . . .

  As if reading her thoughts, Evan matched her steps, drawing them closer. His eyes traveled over her damp hair and fitted shirt before darting to the kitchen. “We should—” He cleared the raspy inflection in his voice and tried again. “We should get some coffee.”

  She didn’t need any help staying awake . . . or hot. Sleeping in the same room with him sparked a live wire down her body all the way to her toes. He had to feel it too, didn’t he?

  He blinked from her to the bag by the door. “You, uh, going to the studio?”

  Or maybe he didn’t feel anything.

  “Yeah. With all that happened, I missed my contemporary class last night. I can’t afford to spend a full day off the floor.”

  Evan pinched the back of his neck, still looking disoriented. Poor guy was probably exhausted.

  Anna tamed her cravings as best she could. They had other things to think about. “Make sure you grab breakfast. You’re gonna need energy for today.”

  He flung a questioning gaze at her.

  “My dad’s. It could get . . . interesting.”

  The corner of his mouth tipped sideways. “We could always escape to the attic.”

  Their childhood secret hideout. She slid him a playful smile. “Not sure you’d fit up there anymore
, Mr. Hulk.”

  He bounced his pecs but skirted to the kitchen before she could react. “It’s probably covered in dust, anyway.”

  “Time has a way of doing that.” Anna swiped a picture frame tucked in the back corner of her bookshelf and joined him by the fridge. “But some things never change.”

  He brushed his fingers over a black and white selfie he’d taken of them in the attic during the ninth grade. “Two artists ready to take over the world.”

  She grinned. “We were total dorks, weren’t we?”

  “Hey, speak for yourself.”

  “Yeah, right. Sorry to break it to you, but carrying that antique camera of yours around school every day didn’t exactly land you in the popular crowd.”

  “Must be why I could never get a date.” He laughed. “Good thing you took pity on me so I didn’t have to go to dances alone.”

  “Please. If you weren’t blind, you would’ve noticed the line of girls pining away for you.” Including herself.

  “Whatever. Thought you just said I wasn’t popular.”

  “That doesn’t mean you weren’t attractive.” She didn’t really just say that out loud, did she? Blood raced for her cheeks.

  “What about you?” His husky voice was all but a whisper.

  “What about me?”

  “You telling me you didn’t carve a few more names in those trusses after high school?”

  Chin lifted, she crossed her arms. “I’ve never taken anyone else up there.”

  “Never? Why not?”

  “Because . . .” She twisted her hair over her shoulder. “It’s our spot.” Fabulous. If there’d been any doubt she was still a dork, hanging on to the past like it hadn’t changed, she definitely just obliterated it.

  Evan tapped the tip of his shoe against the linoleum. “Not even Jack?”

  “Calloway?” She tripped over her ex’s name. If she could even call him that. “Wait. How do you know about him?”

  Evan slipped his hands in his pockets and pulled them right back out like he was scrambling to backpedal. “The guy had a crush on you all through school.”

  She tried not to snort. “More like he had his eye on someone else.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He works for my dad, Evan. It only took two months into the relationship to see he was working an angle. Get in with the daughter, score with the boss.” It was the same tired song stuck on repeat. “If guys aren’t trying to get in my pants, they’re trying to get in my dad’s pockets. I’m honestly not sure which is worse.”

  His fists clenched at his sides. “You’re worth more than that. You’re—”

  “The DA’s daughter. I know.”

  His brow furrowed. “That’s not all you are.”

  She stared at a knot in the cabinet, the one in her throat returning. “But that’s all everyone sees.”

  “Not everyone.” The floor creaked under his footsteps.

  “C’mon, Evan. You’re the only guy not on my dad’s payroll who’s interested in hanging out with me for me. And even you eventually left.” She froze, kicking herself for letting those words escape. That wasn’t fair. He had his reasons for leaving. Even though it killed her, she had to respect that.

  Sunlight from the window flickered shadows across a broken expression a foot in front of her.

  “You’ll find the right guy, Anna. Someone who deserves you.”

  I already have. Looking down, she rubbed her arms. If she’d pushed Evan away, how could she possibly expect anyone else to stay with her? Not that it mattered. She’d always want the one person who didn’t want her back.

  Unless that’d changed.

  Last night flooded in again. A mix of hope and fear picked up her pulse. “You don’t know how much I wish you were right.”

  “And you don’t know how much I want to prove to you I am.” His soft voice followed another slow step to her.

  This close, the unrelenting drive calling her to him roared against the insistent one pleading with her to let him go. Faded scents of soap and pure masculinity wrapped around her until she couldn’t think straight.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed and drew her eyes from his mouth to a tendon pulsing on his neck. He didn’t move, but she felt his presence all over. What if it could be real?

  A breath stood between them.

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Because.” He edged in another inch, swallowed. “Bells, I—”

  A stark ring pierced the air. With a look of what Anna would’ve sworn was relief, Evan reached for his cell. His face creased at the screen. “It’s my buddy, Hernandez. He can wait.”

  “No, take it. Please.” She sidestepped around him. “I need to leave, anyway.” Before that look on his face reminded her any more of the last time she’d messed up and almost kissed him.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll drive you.”

  At the door, she steeled herself, pasted on a smile, and turned. “Don’t worry about it. Go home and get cleaned up. I’ll meet you in two hours. I’m taking you somewhere before we go to my dad’s.”

  Evan’s brows knit together above a wary stare.

  Why did he have to pull off the tousled sexy look so well? Giving in to a grin, Anna ruffled her fingers through the hairs sticking up in three different directions over his forehead. “Relax, Strider. What’s a little spontaneity to a Ranger? You should be used to it.”

  He stood in the entryway, looking lost for what to say.

  She inched her scarf up her neck, her gaze sloping in the opposite direction. “Thanks for being a good friend to me.” She gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Now, take some advice from someone returning the favor. Don’t stop anywhere till you hit the shower first.”

  His smile curled around her like her favorite sweatshirt. Warm, soothing. It took all her strength to let go of it and turn to the stairs. “See you in two hours. And don’t forget to pack an overnight bag.”

  “Anna—”

  “I’m taking the green line,” she said before he could insist on driving her. Somehow, she doubted thugs—professional or not—would try anything at eight in the morning. Like orcs, they moved in the shadows of night. Besides, she had more dangerous things to conquer.

  Starting with her heart.

  Outside, deep clouds shrouding the sky made it feel later than it was. Keeping her headphones on during the train ride failed to tune out the questions she wanted to ignore. A few strides away from the studio door, her cell rang. Reese. Even worse.

  Anna’s thumb hovered over the end button but swept to answer instead. “I’ll be on time. And yes, I have a date,” she said, working a light tone into her tension-plagued voice.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  Anna pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder while unlocking the door. “Sorry. I’m trying to get a solid rehearsal in before my audition tomorrow.” She strode to the locker room to change.

  “Okay, but back up a sec. You have a date?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She shucked off her coat. How much could she say without giving it away?

  “And . . . ?” Reese prompted.

  “And what?”

  “Do I have to pull everything out of you? Spill it.”

  Anna stared at the mirror as if her reflection would come up with some plausible reply. “He’s . . . ruggedly handsome, resourceful, and capable of handling himself.” And completely off limits.

  “And you met him where?”

  Memories of building sandcastles with Evan in the sandbox as five-year-olds zipped through her mind. “At the beach, years back.” She unwound her scarf. “Art show.” Sort of.

  “Does Mr. Perfect have a name?”

  “Um . . .” Anna unzipped her boot.

  “You’re making this up, aren’t you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Anna.”

  Her shoulders drooped. Probably better to tell her ahead of time, anyway. “I’m bringing Evan, all right? And no, he’s not
dating that girl anymore. And yes, we’re just friends.”

  Reese’s silence might as well have been a screaming reprimand. “I can’t talk about this right now.”

  Good. That made two of them.

  They both hung up. Anna leaned against the sink, her chest deflating with a sigh.

  She dabbed a finger over the tender scab above her lip. Thanks to Evan’s ice treatment, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Maybe no one would notice. Yeah, right. The thought of explaining this to Dad and Reese made her stomach churn.

  A weak smile pulled at the edges of her cut. If Mom were here, she’d give Anna props for kneeing that dealer in the groin. She’d probably make some crack about it at the dinner table tonight. The ache of missing her heightened Anna’s already-wired emotions.

  Shaking it off, she stretched her neck and ambled out of the locker room. She’d deal with that later. All of it. Right now, she needed to leave her heart where it belonged. On the dance floor.

  Mr. Jamison’s expectant smile met her from across the room. “Ready?”

  “I hope so.” Her future hinged on it.

  Two hours in the studio had worked its therapeutic magic. By the third run through her audition piece, all aggravation dissipated behind the peace of being at home on the floor. The music and choreo, the familiar stretch of her muscles, the lapse in time when everything else faded . . . Too bad the rest of life couldn’t be as uncomplicated.

  All bundled up, Anna backed open the front door and stopped short. As if the icy air didn’t strip enough breath out of her, a view of Evan—cleaned up and unfairly gorgeous with an arm lounged against the hood of his car—finished her off.

  In dark jeans and a hunter green button-up under his leather jacket, he smiled at her lingering stare. Heat tinged her ears. Thankfully, her hat covered them. And at least she could pass off the flush in her cheeks as a reaction to the cold, right?

  His unabashed grin widened.

  Okay, maybe not. She’d be lucky to remember how to speak, forget pulling anything else off. Seeing him this casual shouldn’t make her heart stagger worse than seeing him in a tux had.