Page 51 of King of the Dawn

“Jericho,” she whispered my name, trying to thaw my tone. She knew me so well now. That would make this hard.

“Eoghan will never come after you, the threat to you is over.” I continued, refusing to look at her as her jewel eyes bore into the side of my face. “Everything has been set up for your safety.”

I stopped her in front of a large storefront window, turning us to face inside the building. Red brick framed the display. A small green overhang was out. The owner had just turned on a few lights inside, revealing a golden glow on the shelves.

She gasped. “These are lovely!”

She leaned in to admire the leather bound books that were stacked at the window. The smile nearly ripped me in two.

She traced her finger on the glass, reading the names of the books, and oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

“You should go in.” I told her, as a man in a white, woolen fisherman’s sweater came and turned the sign from “closed” to “open”. He spied us, and gave us a little nod. His eyes turned to Eve, and he tilted his head, contemplating something. I bet he recognized her, but didn’t believe it.

He was graying at the temples, with little wire glasses that made him look distinguished. Professorial, even. It was all so ordinary, so normal. So domestic and simple and I envied all of that for once. The boring, humdrum of a simple life, with a perfect wife.

The urge to punch through the glass and choke the life out of him was overwhelming. But I kept my hands in my pockets, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“You should go in.” I repeated, and she stood up straight.

“You won’t come with me?”

“Not for this one.” I told her.

“Will you be here when I come out?” She asked. Smart girl. She knew something was happening, but wasn’t sure what. She was prying, trying to coax answers from me. Coaxing answers from a trained professional. I laughed. I loved her for it. I loved her for everything that she was.

“Jericho?” She whispered, bringing her hands to my collar. “You’ll be here when I come out, right?”

I finally looked at her. Because I knew she wouldn’t go if I didn’t. I brought my forehead down to hers, taking her scent in for a final time. I brought my hand to the nape of her neck, feeling her hair caress the back of my hand. I shut my eyes, savoring her, before this treasure disappeared from my existence.

“Yes.” I lied. With a heavy heart, I lied to my wife.

No, I reminded myself. Not my wife. Not mine at all.

But she believed my lie, and sighed with relief.

“Okay.” She smiled, coming on her tiptoes to kiss me. I turned my head, giving her my cheek. If I tasted her mouth again, I would fucking crumble. It would break me.

She practically bounced as she danced her way into the bookstore, the little bell above the door announcing her entrance.

I turned and walked down the street. A little pixie stood at the corner, leaning against the brick. Her leather jacket was pulled close around her. The little assassin tilted her head as she looked at my face.

“Holy fuck, Brett Bradley,” she said with a cruel smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look like you’re about to suck start a pistol.”

I ignored her smart ass comment. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and handed it to her.

“Whenever she picks a place to live, drop this where she’ll find it,” I instruct.

She plucked the envelope from my hand. “What is it?”

“Divorce papers.”

“Holy fuck, Brett, what the hell is going on?”

I shook my head. Not willing to talk about it. Not with her.

“Is her security set up?”

“Yeah, round the clock security, and if anyone hurts her, we’ll report back to you to request a kill order.” She confirmed.

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