Arms of Promise (19 page)

He leaned across the seats. “You’re going to be amazing.”

A watery smile stood in for a response. She paused a moment longer and then raised her chin and pressed forward. She might not’ve been a soldier, but she was a fighter.

Evan snagged the closest parking spot. Brushing off the snow from his sleeves, he approached the door but stopped himself from entering.

“
I want you to say good-bye.
” Anna’s words latched on to his raw nerve endings and sank all the way to his core. He never should’ve walked back into her life. He belonged out here, where he could protect her instead of hurting her again.

Staying outside, he traded one storm for another and waited for the crisp scent of wet asphalt to clear his head. He knew his place in Anna’s life wouldn’t amount to more than being her bodyguard. He hadn’t left for the army in search of a way to change his role. He’d left, searching for a way to be worthy of it. And here he was, still letting her down.

The wind’s icy prongs stabbed his ears. One blow. Another. It jabbed until numbness spread and allowed the bitter truth to settle. Anna was right. It was time to let go.

Chapter Nineteen

Wreckage

Evan released his mom’s hand and stretched. His stiff joints creaked with the rigid hospital chair, but the movement didn’t wake her. He picked up the empty Styrofoam coffee cup he’d been refilling all night.

“She’s in good hands, Mr. O’Riley.” The nurse jotted something in her chart. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

Sleep definitely wasn’t happening. And going back to his hotel would mean returning to the same drawing board he’d been going over nonstop since he’d taken Anna back to her apartment yesterday. At least while staking out the front of her building, Evan felt like he was doing something halfway useful.

Between him, Harris, and Murphy, they’d kept Anna under surveillance around the clock, but there’d been no sign of Michelli’s men. No hint of foul play. The lack of activity gnawed at him. What was their next move?

He massaged his neck. Five more days, and the trial would be over. Seven more, and Mom would be home recovering. From the doc’s updates, the prognosis seemed hopeful. Evan looked her over. She exuded strength even in her sleep. Maybe she didn’t need him as much as he’d thought. Maybe Anna didn’t either.

From inside the folds of his wallet, he withdrew the weathered paper that never left his person and smoothed out the wrinkles over his knee. The words on the page were branded inside him as much as his oath to be a Ranger. If not more. He’d tried to honor them the best he could, but maybe it was time to admit he couldn’t.

He scrolled to the text from Hernandez waiting for his response about reenlisting. An incoming call cut him off in the middle of a reply.

Evan swiped the screen. “Murphy, you good? What happened?”

“Jeez, O’Riley. You need me to spike that hospital coffee? Take a load off, bro.”

“Sorry.” He reclined in the chair. “What’s up?”

“I’m just calling to let you know your girl’s on to you.”

Evan sat right back up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she knows you’ve got Harris and me watching her. Some kid named Shaun just came knocking on my car window. Said Anna was hot about you not telling her.”

Considering Anna hadn’t spoken to him since the audition, “hot” probably didn’t begin to cover it. “Did Kid President have anything else to say?”

“No, but someone else apparently does.”

“What? Murph—”

“Evan?” A woman’s voice came on the line. “It’s Robyn, Anna’s coworker. How you doing, sugar?”

He glanced from his mom to the note in his lap and returned it to the well-worn spot in his wallet. It didn’t matter how he was doing. “I’ll be better if you tell me what’s going on.”

“Straight to the point. My kind of guy.” She chuckled. “Look, baby, I know Anna doesn’t like anyone all up in her business. But sometimes that girl needs a good head slap to knock some common sense into her. I know
you
know what I’m talking about. Stubborn as—”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.” He stuffed the wallet into his back pocket. “But I thought we were getting straight to the point.”

“Well, dang, honey. You’re just as slow as Anna, aren’t ya?”

Okay, he didn’t have time for this. “How about you just let me talk to her?”

“That’s what I been trying to tell you. She ain’t here.”

His stomach lurched. “Where is she?”

“At home. Packing.”

Packing
? Evan jetted from the chair and whirled around the doorway. “I’ll be there in five.”

With the storm picking up, hardly anyone was on the road. He probably shouldn’t have been either, but Anna was more important.

He slid into a parking spot beside the curb and hopped out at the same time Murphy exited his Jeep. Sucker had gotten there first. “How’d she get by you?”

Murphy cocked his head. “Guess you’re not the only one trying to be sly.”

Playing him at his own game. Why did that not surprise him?

“You got a bulletproof vest on? From what that kid was saying about how ticked she is, you might need it going in there.”

“I can handle Anna.”

“Sure you can.” Murphy opened his door.

Evan grabbed the side of the trim. “Hey, do me a favor before going home?”

“Shoot.”

“Anna’s dad sent a car to take Megan home yesterday. Would you mind swinging by Brookfield Apartments to make sure everything seems cool?”

Murphy clasped his hand. “I got ya, bro.”

“Thanks, man.” Evan leaned in for a half hug. “I appreciate it.”

He flicked a glance at Anna’s windows. “You got enough problems to deal with.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Leaving the door halfway open, Murphy started the ignition. A classic Casanova grin climbed up his cheek. “Be sure to give her my number.” He puffed out his shirt and rubbed his chin. “You know, after she throws your sorry butt to the curb.”

Evan swung the door shut. “Get outta here, punk.”

Murphy’s throaty laugh filtered through the window as he pulled away.

A cloud of exhaust and snow spun around Evan. Blowing against his hands to warm them, he peered up at Anna’s apartment again. Murphy might not be that off base about her reaction to seeing him. He jogged across the street to the front door. Only one way to find out.

Inside, Evan hustled up the steps, taking them two at a time. His footsteps echoed off the walls all the way to the top. He rapped a knuckle on Anna’s door and cast a backward glance at her neighbor’s apartment. No barking. No sound, period. The quiet unnerved him.

He banged the door harder. “Anna, it’s me. Open up.”

A scrambling noise stirred from inside. The deadbolt clicked, and she cracked the door open far enough to allow a sliver of a view into her place. “What do you want, Evan?”

“I want to know you’re okay.”

“Why don’t you go ask the guys you have keeping tabs on me?”

“Bells, don’t be like this.” He nudged her to let him in.

She grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and clutched it to her stomach, face turning red. A glimpse of their high school logo peeked out from behind the pillow.

“Is that—?”

“No.” Backing up farther, she swiped a second pillow and covered the bottom half of her shirt.

He pulled them away. “My old wrestling sweatshirt?”

“Technically, it’s mine now since you left it here.” Anna blew a strand of hair out of her face. “You know. Because of statute of limitations . . . or . . . whatever.”

How did the girl pull off sexy, infuriating, and adorable all at the same time? And why did she make it so hard to focus?

He pushed his gaze from her to the cardboard boxes covering the couch. Bailey circled over one and curled into a ball on top of whatever was packed inside it.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m moving out.” Anna strode to the bookshelf along the wall and went back to wrapping her knickknacks in newspaper. “Time’s up.”

“Your landlord gave you till Wednesday. There’s still—”

“I didn’t make the cut.” She dropped the paper and clutched the box. “If you’d stayed and seen the audition, you’d understand why.”

The tremble in her voice raked over him.

She shoved another item into the box closest to her. “I should’ve stayed home Thursday. Should’ve trained harder. I can’t believe I messed this up.”

“They’re the ones who messed up by not taking you.”

“No. It was me. I wasn’t focused. I . . .” She let out a long breath. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“It’s just one audition.” Evan reached in his pocket for the flyer he’d shown her Thursday night. “There’s still the one for Hubbard. It’s only a little over a week away. We can talk to your landlord.”

“There’s no
we
, Evan.” Her arms drifted to her sides as though weary of straining. A torn expression met his and softened her hard shell. “I’ll always be grateful for knowing you want to take care of me. But this isn’t an op. It’s my life.”

Her words speared him but not as much as watching her buy into something that wasn’t true. “A life you’re throwing away.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This.” He flicked the box’s flap. “You, giving up on your dreams.”

“Me?” Her eyes turned a fierce green. “I’m not the one who walked out on my dreams and ran away.”

The blow caught him below the belt. “I didn’t run away.”

“No? Then what do you call ditching everything we had planned and running off without even facing me first?” She hedged him backward. “Why’d you really leave, Evan? What were you afraid of?”

The fact she didn’t already know was the very reason he hadn’t told her.

She kept advancing. “All this time, you’ve blamed your dad—hiding behind the fear of failure, thinking you have some kind of inadequacies you have to make up for.”

He stumbled backward over the truth he didn’t want to admit.

A dangerous mix of emotions laced each step marching her closer. “You go off, thousands of miles away, willing to fight God-knows-who rather than risking what might happen if you stay and give yourself half a chance at what you don’t think you deserve.”

His back pressed into the kitchen counter behind him. Shock rooted him in place until agitation boiled to the surface and freed his voice.

“You want to talk about hiding?” He straightened away from the counter. “You ostracize yourself from your family out of fear, blame your dad for the very thing he’s fighting against, and let guilt keep you from pursuing your own dreams.”

Her expression darkened. “At least I try.”

“No, you settle. You walk around, challenging everyone else to live with courage, but you keep none for yourself. If you did, you wouldn’t be writing off your top choice company.”

He jutted the flyer out at her. “You want to call me out on being afraid of failure? Fine. But at least admit you’re afraid of success. ‘Cause I think you’re sabotaging your career on purpose. So, you tell me who’s hiding.”

Fist clenched, Anna opened her mouth, clamped it shut again, and lowered her arm.

The fight between them drained with a pent-up exhale. “I can’t go there, Evan. A career with a company would consume me.”

“Only if you let it.”

“I’m not strong enough not to.” Dejected eyes blinked away from him. “I let Mom down like that once. I can’t lose myself again.”

He lifted her chin. “You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I won’t let you.”

He enclosed her in his arms. He’d fight with her every day if he had to, would face his fears and sacrifice his heart like he should’ve done from day one no matter what it cost him. She deserved all her dreams.

Anna sank into him and let the silence drain the last of the tension away until her stubborn exterior crumbled under fears of her own. “Don’t you ever wish you could give up on it all? To tell that thing inside you to walk away?”

He breathed against her hair. “We don’t get to choose what steals our hearts.” No self-mastery, training, or logic would change that truth he lived with every day.

Evan drew her tighter. But instead of allowing him to keep holding her, she slinked out of his embrace and returned to the boxes on the floor, shield back in place.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m finishing packing. Which is what you should be doing, too.”

He crossed the living room. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw the text from your comrade about re-upping.” She swiped the ceramic frogs off the shelf and encased them in an extra layer of newspaper. “They need you there, Evan.”

He ran his fingers over the couch arm’s wooden edge. “You want me to leave?”

Her hands stalled over the items in the box, her gaze locked inside it. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“It does to me.” He turned her toward him. “What do you want, Bells?”

“The same thing I’ve wanted all my life.” The words rushed out.

He searched her face for an explanation.

Craning her head to the ceiling, she pushed her hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Never mind.”

“Just talk to me. What is it? Dance?”

“
You
, Evan.” She balled her sweatshirt’s cuffs in her hands. “It’s always been you.”

His whole body froze. He’d taken an M4 rifle to the chest more times than he cared to count, yet her words just knocked the wind from him with ten times the force. “What did you just say?”

She shook her head and returned to the box. “Forget it. Like I said. It doesn’t matter.”

Breaking the paralysis, Evan curled his fingertips under hers and brought her to him.

She landed a palm over the dog tags under his shirt. Her brow furrowed. “You left for a reason.” The storm outside had nothing on the battle behind her eyes. One he knew too well.

“That doesn’t mean I wanted to.” How could he make her understand?