Page 47 of One Last Promise

“Anyway, yes. The difference between an Iron Maiden and ANW is there is no distinction between men and women in ANW. So the organizations wanted to make a female competition. I started in ANW and won the Miami City competition two years in a row. Went to nationals in Vegas both years. Made it to stage two the second year—fell on the crisscross salmon ladder. Then I went to the Iron Maiden championship and . . .”

He waited.

She smiled.

“Youwon?”

She shrugged. “Not bad for a waitress.”

“Whatever. You won.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. It swept through her, found her bones.

“Yeah. Nearly fell on the Power Tower though. I was never much of a heights person. Just don’t look down, right?”

“Right. So . . .” His smile dimmed. “Is that the money Rigger wants?”

He’d put that together pretty easily. “Yes. There was a pretty nice cash prize of a hundred grand. He thought he was entitled to the money since he’d sort of trained me.”

“Sounds like you spent a lot of time taking care of your sister.”

“I was all she had.” She finished her cocoa. “I shouldn’t have abandoned her.”

“How did you abandon her?”

“I left her for the military, just like my dad did. And . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “Anyway, we were happy for a while in Anchorage. And now I’m all Hazel has.”

The wind whipped up around them as theyreached the end of the boardwalk. She turned and stared out at the river. Blue and sparkling under the sunlight, beautiful and lethal at the same time.

“You’re not alone anymore, Tillie.”

His voice nudged under her skin, found soil. But even with the tenderness, she fought not to flinch.

No. She sighed, turning to correct him, but he’d turned to the rail.

“You know, the worst day of my life happened here. Or one of them.”

She looked up at him, but his gaze seemed far away.

“My brother, Axel, was about ten years old. We were in town, goofing around. It was hot—summertime—and a bunch of people were hanging out by the shore throwing rocks, a few wading. I was hanging out with my friends—Hudson Bowie, and Deke Starr, who you met—and we were, I don’t know . . . throwing a football around, I think. Anyway, I heard shouts and saw my stupid brother jumping into this river.”

“He jumped into this? It’s so dangerous.”

“A little kid had gone in and got swept up by the river, and he went in after him. By the time I got over there, Axel had grabbed the kid but had hit the rocks and broken his arm. Took three guys to get them out of the river, and by then, both of them were nearly drowned.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah.” He went silent for a moment. “I was supposed to be watching my brother.”

And that, right there, explained everything. Why Moose ran the rescue team, why he hovered, why he never gave up on someone if they needed him.

“The thing is, I do realize that Axel has his own mind. He does what he wants, and I’m finally starting to get that. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I can’t help but want to step in when someone I care about isin over their head.”

He looked away from her, upriver, and a muscle clenched in his jaw.

Oh, Moose. He deserved better than lies. She put her hand on his arm. “Moose, I need to tell you something?—”

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. “It’s my mom.” Swiping it open, he put it to his ear.

Tillie could hear his mother’s panicked voice over the line?—

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