Page 41 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)

Lennox

“ S hane?” I call out, stepping inside the brownstone and ringing out a wet umbrella.

Yellow flames crackle in the fireplace, warming up the living room. Thank God. I’m chilled to the bone. I can’t seem to get warm, and I’ve barely seen my husband in a week since all the Quinlan brothers started guarding the new weapon shipment routes.

I shut the front door behind me and toss my keys in the bowl on the entryway table. I’m home earlier than usual. I left Luxe after the Happy Hour rush, hoping to catch Shane at home.

“He’s not here,” our housekeeper says, removing an apron. “Dinner is in the warming drawer.”

“Thank you, Liz.” I watch her leave and the house goes quiet with the kind of silence that makes my chest ache.

I wait a beat and hiss at how this brownstone feels too big, too empty without Shane home. Things between us have been off this whole week since Garrett hit me. And when Shane is home, he’s preoccupied with maps and cameras.

A vast difference from the start of our marriage, when he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.

I’ve buried myself in work to keep from thinking about how distant we’ve become. To not look needy or that I’m pining for him. Even though I am, because I’m crazy about him. And I worry I’ll get my heart broken.

“Hawk?” I call out, waiting for his cute welcoming meow from my bedroom where he loves sitting on my windowsill watching the birds in the trees.

I keep my bedroom door ajar so he can wander around, and he’s usually padding down the stairs and weaving between my legs by now. But there’s no furry body against my ankles, no purring loudly, just my voice echoing against the empty staircase.

I walk through the living room, checking out the chairs I’ve seen him curl up on when Liz is here. There’s no sign of him, not even the little stuffed mouse toys he brings with him everywhere.

“Hawk,” I call again, louder this time. My pulse quickens, thinking he slipped into Shane’s office to mess up his desk.

Now I’m glad my husband isn’t home. He’s been very sweet to Hawk, but finding little bite marks on his laptop challenges Shane’s patience.

I peek into the office, momentarily halted by his cologne in the tight space. The feeling of emptiness hits me and I hold my stomach until it passes.

Hawk isn’t on the desk, though. I crouch down, peering under the sofa and behind the curtains. Tears blur my vision as panic grows in my chest.

“Hawk?” I snap this time. “Where are you, buddy?”

Nothing.

Heart pounding, I fly into a frenzy, tearing through each bedroom and every corner of the house.

“Hawk!” I yell, my voice breaking.

My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat when I take notice of one of his little plush toys pushed against the baseboard next to... The front door . Oh no.

I yank it open and rush outside. The raw, damp chill in the air bites at my skin as I stand on the landing before the steps. “ Hawk!”

From the guards’ alcove to the right of the staircase, one of the younger guards flies into the vestibule. “Ma’am? What do you need?”

“Have you seen Hawk?” I ask, my voice shaky. “My cat? He’s missing.”

The younger guard freezes, his face draining of color. “Ma’am, I—” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I— I’m so sorry. I let him out.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. “What?”

Dorian pops his head outside and grabs the young guy by the throat. “What do you mean, you let the cat out?”

“He ran out when I opened the door to park Mr. Quinlan’s car earlier. I tried to grab him, I swear, but he bolted.” The young guy’s voice cracks, and he looks like a man about to go to the electric chair. “I went looking for him, but didn’t find him.”

My whole body tightens with fear. Hawk isn’t just my cat, he’s my baby. My comfort and my constant in all this chaos. The idea of him out here, lost and scared in the cold rain makes my chest feel like it’s caving in.

I rush inside to grab a bowl of his kibble, a few treats, and his plush mouse toy.

While Dorian holds an umbrella over me, I perch on the cold wet steps, calling out to Hawk, shaking the bag of treats that usually makes him come running.

Warm tears continue to spill out over my cheeks.

Pressing my hand to my mouth, I try to hold back from completely sobbing.

I fear if I do, I’ll break down and never recover.

Dorian begs me to go inside, but I refuse. He keeps me safe, but keeping Hawk safe is my responsibility. He’s all I really have. I can’t trust Shane’s feelings for me will last. My family will screw it up.

At least one hour goes by and with each passing minute, hope fades more and more. I’m reduced to a mess, mumbling Hawk’s name as I lean against the ceramic steps, cold and shivering.

Feeling helpless, I give in and let Dorian call Shane. A second into the call, he knows something isn’t right when he hears me crying. My guard hands me the phone.

“Lennox, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Um.” I’ve been so closed off in this marriage, worried it will fall apart. “Hawk. He got out of the house. I can’t find him.”

“Shite. Where are you right now?"

“On the front steps. With food and his toy.”

“Lennox, it’s pouring. Get in the house, baby.”

My heart squeezes. No one has cared about me like this. “He’s all alone.”

“Lennox, my love, don’t cry. I’m on my way home.”

Hearing Shane call me his love makes my heart skip a beat. But I don’t know if it’s real. He said he’d never love me. God, I wish I didn’t have these feelings for him. Sobs break from my chest and everything I’ve held on to gushes out of me.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’ll find him, I promise.” He tells Creed to get his car, his voice very stern and even worried.

Despite Shane telling me to go inside the house, I stay in the cold, shivering. If Hawk can’t get warm, neither can I.

The Sentinel screeches to a halt in front of the house. Shane is out of the SUV before the engine even stops. Long, hurried strides eat up the distance between us.

“Lennox!” He pulls me into his arms even though I’m wet. “Baby, get inside. Right now.” But my husband doesn’t wait for me to agree. He picks me up and carries me inside.

In the bathroom outside his office, he strips me out of my damp coat and wraps my wet hair in a towel. The whole time, he never stops kissing every inch of my cold skin.

“He’s gone.” I shiver.

“Shhh. No, I’ll find him.” With barely restrained violence in his voice, he asks Dorian, hovering by the door, “Who is responsible for this?”

“Shane, no.” I grab his arm. “It was an accident.”

He looks back at me, his anger melting into something softer as he takes in my tear-streaked face and wet strands of hair coming out of the towel.

“Did you leave something important for this?” I ask, my lips quivering.

“This? You? Aye, of course, I did. You’re my wife. I’ll always put you first. And I’ll find the cat,” he says with conviction in his voice. “I promise.”

I nod, trying to be strong.

“Dorian,” Shane calls out to my guard, who stands to his full height, thinking he’s about to get reamed in the ass for this. “Make her some tea.”

“Yes, sir.” Dorian struts into the kitchen, wiping sweat from his brow.

My husband guides me to the bottom of the stairs. His hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing away tears that continue to fall. “I’ll find him,” he repeats, his blue eyes locked on mine. “I swear, baby.”

Something in his tone makes me believe him. I reach out, grab the front of his jacket, and pull him closer. When his lips meet mine, it’s soft at first, then a deeper, desperate kiss suggests what’s storming through him at the moment.

“Trust me. While Dorian is making you tea, go put on some warm dry clothes.” He leans in and kisses me, his lips warm and firm against my forehead.

Watching him walk out the front door, all I can do is cling to that trust like I did years ago hoping Shane and I would find each other again.

Can lightning strike twice to save my kitty?