Page 2 of Sacred Vow

“Isolde.” A familiar voice sends a trickle of apprehension down my back.

I gently put my glass back on the bar, turn on my stool, and come face to chest with a man I haven’t seen in seven years.

A man I swore I never wanted to see again.

“Andrei.” I lean my elbow on the bar, trying to take a casual pose. “What are you doing here?” Looking beyond him, I see one of the men that walked in only minutes ago.

“That’s my question.” He slides his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, pushing his suit jacket back. He’s just as big as I remember, maybe even bigger now. I definitely appreciate his muscular figure more now than I did as a teenager.

I don’t appreciate the dark glare he’s setting on me, though.

“I’m having a drink.” I bring the glass to my lips, keeping my eyes locked on his as I drink my whiskey sour.

“Well, you had it.” He takes the empty glass and hands it to the bartender, who comes running to collect it from him. “She’s done.”

“Still a bossy bastard.” I fold my arms over my chest. I’m not a teenager anymore. Andrei can’t boss me around here. I’m an adult now.

“Are you visiting a friend or something?”

“No.”

“I heard you might be back in town, but I thought that had to be wrong. Because you know it’s not a good idea for you to be in Chicago.” He pushes a fake smile on his lips.

“I don’t know that.” I lift a shoulder. “I know you told my mother that. I know she believed it. But it’s not something I know.” It’s semantics, but still the truth. I have no idea why he pushed my mother to take me to Nebraska.

He looks behind him, checks our surroundings, and gets closer to me. His pants brush against my knees. He smells like spiced leather.

“Why are you in this particular bar, Isolde?” he asks in a low voice, making sure we aren’t overheard.

“I hate when you call me that.” I thought he did it when I was younger because he was trying to tease me, but he’s not teasing now. Nothing about his firmly set jaw or his stiff posture suggests he’s looking for a laugh.

“Why this bar?” he repeats.

“Just walking down memory lane is all.” I don’t dare tell him my real purpose. One of the few things I remember after Craig’s passing was how relieved Andrei was about the hole in my memory. If he realizes I’m trying to fill that gap, he might start getting in my way.

“Some memories are dangerous.” He flattens one hand on the bar, the other on the back of my stool and leans in closer.

“Why is it dangerous, Andrei?” I’ve been in limbo with this for too long. “What are you afraid I’ll find if I start remembering things?” Maybe it’s dangerous for him.

“You should go back to Nebraska.”

I jump off the stool, landing on his foot. He barely winces but it gives me just enough room to move away from him.

“You should mind your own business.” I toss another couple of bills onto the bar for the bartender, then turn for the door.

“Isolde,” he calls after me, his voice heavy with authority.

I pause at the door, my hands already on the bar.

“No more memory walks.”

I flip him the middle finger and shove the door open.

My heart bangs against my ribs as I hurry to my car. I’m not an idiot. Andrei Petrov wasn’t someone to mess with seven years ago.

Before I get into my car, I look back at the bar. There’s no one outside, but that doesn’t mean no one’s watching.

The bar was a bust, but worse, it put me on Andrei’s radar.

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