Page 55 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)

Lennox

T he stench of blood and gunpowder clog the air. Tables are overturned and shattered glass covers my once-pristine mirrored floors. Bodies lie still in red pools of death.

My staff.

Customers.

And oh my God, Dorian!

He’s on the floor not moving. He pushed me out of the way and took gunfire for me.

I’m shaking, hysterical, but I can’t fall apart. I must keep my head.

Mara and I sit on the floor, our backs against the bar. “Just stay calm,” I mutter to her.

“This isn’t looking good,” she says, her voice shaking. “They killed the men. Kept us alive because we’re women. They’re going to rape and fucking traffic us.”

“Over my dead body,” I whisper. “I’ll handle this.”

“You. Fat woman. You owner?” A hooded man with a Slavic accent presses a cold, steel barrel against my temple.

“Did your mother teach you to talk to women that way?” I say, glaring up at him.

“My father killed my mother,” he says coldly.

Jesus, I can’t top that insult.

“What do you want?” I growl.

“Take her. This one. The one with the sharp tongue.” He instructs his henchman with a long gun. “I’m going to snuff it out.”

His man picks me up by the neck and drags me toward my office. “Come with me.”

“Mara!” I yell. “It’s okay. Just do what they say. ”

I’m going to be sick at the idea she’s alone. But when I’m thrown down to the floor in my office, his men guarding the door, I should be more worried about myself.

“Open safe.” The man who called me fat reveals his face.

Albanian... But this is not the man who Garrett brought to Club Echelon months ago. This man is ten times more terrifying.

And this is about money. Those fucking locusts.

“There’s not much in there. I assure you. Who are you?” I feel like I need a name. Something.

“That is kyre . Our king,” a henchman at the door snarls.

“Either you open your safe, or I kill you and I open it,” the kyre says calmly, his lips curling in a slow, malicious grin.

I lift my chin, my voice hoarse from screaming at the carnage I witnessed. “Then won’t you look stupid for doing all this damage for nothing ? In front of your men.”

Living my whole life around the mafia made me an expert on these guys.

Knocking the tip of the gun against my head, he says, “You don’t fear death? I like that. Maybe you’ll fear something worse.” He unbuckles his belt, his fingers moving to undo his pants. “I think my men will respect me plenty when I’m fucking you on the floor.”

Bile rises in my throat, but I don’t flinch.

“And after I’m done with you, my men will fuck your friend out there.” He grabs my blouse.

“Stop!” I kick.

“Hang on, kyre ,” one of the henchmen says, reading the name on my office door. “Did you see this? This says her last name is Quinlan. ”

“ Quinlan ,” my would-be rapist screeches, fury in his cold eyes. “That damn empire forced us to burn our armory. Maybe I’ll slit your throat first and fuck you while you bleed out as a punishment to the Quinlans. Which one of those dirty bastards is your husband?”

I hesitate. The memory of Shane on his knees and me walking away is a nightmare I’ve had every night for a week. His voice fading. Me blind, reaching for him. Not being able to find him.

Now I have to give him up? But he would never hide behind me or expect me to sacrifice myself for him.

“ Shane Quinlan is my...my husband.” I crawl away from the kyre , my nails ready to scratch his eyes out. “And I’m pregnant, you bastard.”

The words ring out like a gunshot and the kyre scoffs. “So what? Even better.”

“You’re a disgusting piece of shit.” I lunge to punch him in the balls, hoping to incapacitate him so I can run for the private bathroom and escape out the window.

This isn’t his first assault. He must have been prepared for me to strike back and sidesteps my fist. The crack of his palm against my cheek knocks me backward. My vision swims, my ears ring, and the taste of blood fills my mouth. I clutch my stomach, gasping, worrying about my baby.

“I like my women bruised and broken.” The kyre grabs my hair and starts to drag me to the sofa.

Oh God, oh God.

But the door to my office flies off in a controlled explosion that knocks out my hearing as the room fills with smoke. The walls rattle, but through the thick haze, rich with the sharp tang of gunpowder and scorched wood, twin assassins carrying assault rifles unleash a tight hail of bullets.

The two Albanian henchmen manning the entrance are ripped to shreds in front of my eyes.

Shielded by my body, the kyre tenses. He grips my throat, tightening his hold to the point of cutting off my air.

When the smoke clears, the assassins part. Shane steps inside dressed in tactical gear, his weapon raised, eyes blazing with unfiltered rage.

“That’s my wife you’ve got your hands on, Berisha,” he says to the kyre , his voice low and deadly.

Before the kyre can raise his gun, Shane pulls the trigger. Again and again with a precision that astounds me since the creep was practically using me as a human shield.

The Albanian drops in a thud, blood quickly pooling around his head and back.

The room falls silent, except for my ragged breathing. Two men dressed like Shane walk in and join the assassins in a line formation that gives me chills. They remove their helmets and I clutch my throat. Griffin and Connor came to rescue me .

A Donnelly.

I didn’t miss that Shane called me his wife. He lowers his weapon, his eyes locking on mine. “Lennox,” he chokes out and kneels on the floor next to me.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I dive straight into his arms. “Shane,” I cry into his shoulder.

His bulletproof vest pushes hard against my breasts, but his arms feel like the safest place I’ve ever been.

I sob, the entire traumatic night catching up to me. I grip him like I’ll never let go. His hands run over my arms, my back, then up to cup my face like he’s making sure I’m real.

“Jesus, Lennox,” he rasps, his forehead pressing against mine. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”

I wince. Not from pain. Not from fear. From those three words.

I’ve got you.

They crack something wide open in me. Even as the smell of blood clings to my skin and the echo of gunfire rings in my ears. It’s these arms, solid and grounding that pull me out of the chaos.

I fist the front of his shirt like I might float away without him. “I thought...”

I can’t finish. I can’t form the words with this lump in my throat.

Shane’s bruising grip tightens around me, his voice rough in my hair. “You’re safe now. I swear it.”

I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or the way he’s looking at me, but my chest cracks open, and I let myself believe him.

With myself out of danger, the rest pours back into me.

“Mara?” I cry out.

“She’s safe. We got her out.” He cradles my head against his chest.

“Dorian?” I squeak.

Shane nods. “He’s alive, too.”

We stare and there’s one burning question left. One soul to ask about.

“Say it, Lennox. Ask me.”

“What about...us?” I sniff.

“We’re not dead, are we, baby?” He strokes my jaw. “I can be what you need. I know what I have to do. I spent seven agonizing days thinking of nothing else.”

“Me, too.” I choke up.

I look around at the dead Albanians. “Shane. The cops will arrest you for this. It’s still murder. Premeditated if you came in here armed to the teeth.”

Cops are always looking to arrest mafia bosses for something .

After a moment of quiet, the five Quinlan men break out into high-pitched laughter.

“I just got off the phone with the mayor,” Griffin says proudly. “The cops will be briefed on who we killed.”

I relax, feeling stupid for doubting the power of a Quinlan.

Connor smiles, pointing his rifle northward. “We’re heroes .”

My head is spinning at what I’ve lost tonight. But I got my husband back.

WE brIEFLY TOUR THE chaos that was my club with an ESU team. They do urban search and rescue in case anyone is hiding. Paramedics removed the bodies prior, but there’s blood everywhere. The scent of death lingers in the air and tears spill down my cheeks.

“It’s all gone.” I walk through the wreckage, my hands trembling.

Shane never lets me go. “I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll fix us, too, if you let me.”

Seeing how upset I am looking at all the damage, Shane brings me back outside, away from Luxe’s shattered state.

In front of the club, under the portico, my vision swims against the flashing red and blue lights.

Cops are everywhere questioning survivors.

I sit on the steps, wrapped in a blanket with Shane next to me, waiting for a police sergeant to take my statement.

There’s no getting around that.

Shane’s arms feel firm around my shoulders, anchoring me. He hasn’t stopped touching me since he found me.

After I’m cleared, I’m brought to the ambulance to check my face.

When the EMT tells me my heart rate is through the roof and that I’m running a fever, she stares at me and says, “Are you pregnant, honey?”

Swallowing, I glance at Shane and smile. “Yes, I am.”

His jaw drops. I figured he knew and only came to my rescue to protect his child. It’s clear he had no idea. He came here for me . Of all the people in my family who overlooked and underestimated me, Shane never did.

Even when he was supposed to marry Neve, I always saw how he wanted me.

“You’re pregnant?” Shane’s voice is raw, thick with emotion. “When were you going to tell me?”

I swallow, my fingers twisting into his sleeve. “I wasn’t sure. You said you cheated on me and asked for a divorce.”

Shane grips my chin and forces me to look at him.

“I never cheated on you,” he roughs out, his voice on the verge of cracking. “I thought you wanted the divorce. Wanted a way out. I lied to give you that out.” With desperate blue eyes, he utters, “I love you, Lennox. I’ve always loved you.”

He didn’t cheat.

All this time, every breath I choked down, every night I stared at the ceiling trying not to cry was built on a lie he let me believe. I want to hit him. I want to kiss him. I want to crawl out of my skin because the ache I’ve been carrying wasn’t even real. But the pain? That was.

Looking at him, I know he’s been in pain, too. I saw it last week when he was on his knees, but I thought that was him just being selfish and lonely. His pride suffering.

“I didn’t want out,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I never did.”

He exhales sharply, his thumb brushing away my tears. “I should’ve fought harder. ”

I shake my head. “I should’ve trusted you.” My chest clenches with shame. “I let my family get inside my head. My father kept poisoning me, telling me I wasn’t good enough.”

“I want to kill your father for that alone.” He stares deep into my eyes. “But he’s missing, Lennox. Did you know that?”

Throat tight, I whisper, “No. Be he hinted he was about to run.”

The air stills around us. “What do you want me to do about your father, baby?” Shane asks me. “I can find him. Blade and Jett will find him. I’ll string him up and whip him myself for you.”

I swallow roughly, so much to deal with and take in. Garrett stepped up for Neve. Left New York to be with her. To watch out for her. He’s trying, in his own way. But my father? He fled not caring what happens to me.

I meet Shane’s gaze, my voice steady. “I don’t care what happens to my father.”

“Then we do nothing.” Shane exhales roughly. “Let him spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder waiting to see my eyes and my gun pointed at him.”

I nod then notice the coroner’s stretcher that carries the dead and bagged kyre wheeled past us.

“Griffin...” Shane gets his attention. “When they name a new kyre , we have to meet with him. This has to end . I can’t have the next leader come back for revenge.”

“Shane,” Griffin huffs out. “That’s my call.”

“ I just killed Levin Berisha. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure no one, and I mean no one ever goes near my pregnant wife to retaliate.”

Connor and Griffin exchange looks before turning back to Shane. “Pregnant?”

I nod.

“Congratulations. That ups the stakes,” Connor says. “ Trace, call their enforcer if they still have one and start a dialogue. Tonight.”

“Aye,” the lean, six-foot-five enforcer says, and with his brother Rhys at his side, they leave.

Shane turns to me. “What now, baby? I don’t want us to spend another night apart.”

I assume he knows I’m staying with Mara. But my head is spinning.

“I’m a little bereft of everything right now, Shane.” I sniff. “There’s not much I can give you.”

He runs a finger down my chest. “You have this. Your heart. Your love. That’s all I want.”

“But we’re divorced.”

“My lawyer didn’t file the papers. You’re still mine.” He threads his hands through my hair. “And you never cashed the settlement check.”

A broken laugh cuts from my chest, relief swamping me. “What do you want from me, Shane?

“How about telling me that you still love me.” He cups my chin.

I stare at him, my heart pounding. “I love you, Shane,” I whisper. “I’ve always loved you, too. I never loved anyone else.”

Shane growls, then crushes his lips to mine.

And this time, I don’t hold back.