Page 88 of Savage Promises

Connor: Blade and Jett are driving it up from Maryland right now. I used one of those Italians’ credit cards to rent it.

Me: Nice.

Connor: You can sit this one out, Shane. We got it.

I think about that and consider what it will be like to fuck Lennox tomorrow night in the shadow of the great heist I planned. But the Albanians are unpredictable. I can’t allow my brother and two cousins to get hurt while I stay back and get laid.

Me: I know you do. I want to be there.

Connor: 10-4. See you tomorrow.

I chuck the phone aside and turn to Lennox to see her eyes full of worry. I told her about the plan. I trust her and won’t live any other way.

I envied how Griffin and Ava bonded, how they always seemed on the same damn page. I can’t believe I was lucky enough to marry someone I feel so connected to as well.

“It’ll be fine, baby.” I lay back and watch Hawk settle under Lennox’s other arm.

“Are you sure you can trust Garrett?” she asks softly.

“Trust is a strong word.” I finger my allergy patch, nose twitching. Maybe it needs to be changed out, or I need a higher dose. “He’s got more to lose by lying than by cooperating.”

Lennox sits up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “And if he’s setting you up?” Her voice is tight, her fingers clutching her elbows. “Shane, your brothers will blame me. Connor...he’ll come after me.”

I drop my voice to an icy whisper. “No one will touch you, Lennox. Not now, not ever. You’re a Quinlan. You’re one of us.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver. “And Garrett? What happens to him if he’s lying?”

“If he’s lying,” I say, my tone hard enough to cut glass, “he’ll wish he hadn’t. That’s all you need to know.”

Seeing my nose twitch, Lennox picks up Hawk, but I stop her. “No. It’s fine. I need to take a shower and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long night.”

I kiss her forehead and push out of the bed to leave my naked wife to sleep alone.

Everything stings uncomfortably as I walk to my bedroom. But I don’t trust how my heart beats so wildly for Lennox.

Not yet.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Shane

The next night, the winding road in the industrial complex of warehouses seems to go on forever. Using a ghost car, a piece of shit Honda, I’m following the box truck, driven by Garrett. Through a camera attached to the truck’s rearview mirror, I see him in the driver’s seat. His hands grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. Wired for surveillance, I hear his raspy breaths.

Inside the cargo area of the truck, Trace, Rhys, Connor, and an array of Quinlan soldiers are locked and loaded. The dangers of this mission weigh on my mind. Working with my brothers and cousins up the stakes to these missions. For a moment, I consider aborting the operation. This is not the streets of Astoria where the king, Kieran O’Rourke is feared by the Italian Mafia and the Russian Bratva.

This is a whole new game with serious consequences. My mother barely survived losing one child. She won’t survive losing another one. Then thoughts of my angelic sister Norah vanish when I see the smoke billowing around the bend.

What the fuck?

Using a mic connected to Garrett’s earpiece, I say, “Donnelly, what is that?”

“I... I don’t know. A...chimney from another warehouse, I think.”

But we turn the corner and the Albanian warehouse is engulfed in fire.

I stop the Honda and watch Garrett climb out of the truck, his face pale against the roar of the flames.

“Fuck,” I mutter and look around.

---