I Promise You: A Dark Military Romance (Scarred Executioners Book 2)

I’m engulfed in dark shadows again. Paul plays the guitar to Mana and I’m watching him in the dark on his bed. Every time I see my big brother, I’m always happy. He visits me only in my dreams, but this time, it’s different. I don’t feel bliss this time. I only feel dread.

Paul plays the guitar, and he’s not smiling. He’s frowning as he plays aggressively. Then I see something. Something eerie and familiar.

The Grim Reaper slowly creeps up behind his back, appearing above his shoulders, and I see a hand with no flesh, just bones, creeping over his chest, grabbing him.

I can feel my heart beating so hard that it hurts.

Danny’s exact tattoo appears behind my brother, and I try to yell, but nothing comes out. I try to warn him, but no scream leaves my constricted, dry throat.

Then the Grim Reaper turns to me with an insidious expression and smiles viciously, revealing a skull face.

“Time. Waits. For. No. One.”

The same demonic voice comes from the Grim Reaper. The same voice I heard as I slowly slipped into unconsciousness when Shane and Nora killed me.

That’s when I feel a cold, freezing breath down my neck, and a sensation that something is sitting on my chest, pressing hard while shivers strike all my bones and I’m sinking further down a hole of fear.

“Nooooo!” I am finally able to scream as the dark visions vanish away.

I jolt upright in my dark room, breathing hard, trying to escape the nightmare.

I cry into my hands, and my front door swings open.

It’s Danny.

He’s covered in camo paint all over his face. His uniform is riddled with equipment, and a gun is holstered at his waist.

The last time I saw him like this was when he was my patient in Iraq.

His massive frame swallows the entire doorway and when I look at him, butterflies I thought had long flown away come back full circle for a short moment, and I want that feeling to stay.

Why does seeing him like this scare me yet intrigue me more?

I hate that this has been a recurring thing since my attack. I feel embarrassed my boyfriend has to continuously see me like this. Even though, with every waking terror, he’s there…he’s always there, making me feel safe. Like nothing else matters. I retreat back into my hands, where I continue to whimper.

He’s back home but the feelings from the nightmare continue to haunt my mind.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He sits beside me on the edge of the bed and grabs my shoulders. The bed sinks underneath his massive frame while he’s hovering over me protectively.

“What took you so long?” I shout, angry. I’m being unfair, but I can’t help it. I hate being alone after everything I’ve been through. I can’t stand being alone. I know Shane’s dead, but Nora is not. What if she comes back for me?

What if Shane’s spirit still haunts me and that’s why I’m having these nightmares?

“Ari, I left when I could. I just got home when I heard you screaming. Are you having another nightmare?” he asks, rubbing my back.

I nod.

“Come here,” he orders softly.

I climb on top of him, straddling him on the bed. He holds me back tight and I can smell cigarettes mixed with his cologne, and leather seats…all over him. It smells familiar.

It smells good.

“They won’t stop, Danny. It won’t fucking stop. I dream the same thing over and over again,” I exclaim as a panic attack unfolds. I’m breathing hard, sucking in breath after breath, but it’s useless.

I sob against his neck, his dog tags against my cheek.

His body grows tense. He loosens his grip around my body.

“What do you dream about?” He lifts my chin to face him.

I look at him again; the light blue irises flash with concern, and he looks drained. It seems like he’s already been through one hell of a night, and I’m adding more to it.

I bite my lip as he narrows his eyes, pleading for me to tell him what I dream about.

I won’t let the trauma we’ve both been through derail our relationship. I will bottle it up. I refuse to let silly hallucinations take over me completely.

“It’s nothing, I’ll be okay.”

He holds me and doesn’t stop soothing my back. His hands snake under my shirt, and I feel his calloused palms all over my back, rubbing me up and down until, finally, the anxiety attack subsides.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

I shake my head, refusing.

I don’t want to tell him how weak I am. I’m already showing him that.

I soak in every second of being in his arms like they’ll shield me from any more anxiety attacks.

As soon as I feel okay again, I get off his lap and sit beside him. I love that he doesn’t pry further. Our waists touch each other at the sides. My gaze changes from looking at his beautiful ocean eyes to his soft lips.

I need him. I need all of him.

I want to taste his tongue that’s been tainted by his cigarettes. I want him to completely devour me like he used to, even if that means it comes with pain.

I just need to feel something.

And that’s what Danny does to me.

He makes me feel alive even though I feel wilted on the inside.

He catches my gaze, deciphering my need for him, and then stands, walking toward my bathroom door.

I’m left devastated, as the rejections hits me harder than it should.

I don’t want him away from me. He’s been so patient with me.

The sex is world-shattering. I think of the moment we gave into each other for the first time…it was relentless, complex, and rough. I saw the outcome of what we did to each other in his barracks room. He fucked me so hard that the headboard made cracks and dents into his wall.

I miss it.

“I’m going to take a quick shower. I’ll come back to bed when I’m done.” He sighs, tired. “I knew this was how it would be when I started to work again. It never stops.” He shakes his head once, scoffing. He stops at the doorway, shrugging his shoulders, and I can hear his upper back pop as he stretches his muscles and spine.

“What did you need to tell me? Why did they cancel your deployment? What did the Admiral want from you so suddenly?” I blurt out.

He turns to me, and he’s stuck in his thoughts. He purses his lips, and I know that I’ve asked him something that’s classified. I’m pushing him for more. I need to get inside his head. He’s hesitant, quiet, and rigid. But then he smiles when he looks me in the eyes. The way his lips slowly form into a stressed, crooked smirk makes my heart stop for a blip in time.

God, I swear his smile alone makes me flush throughout my bloodstream. Bliss simmers in my veins. It sends my eyes blinking fast and fluttering so quickly, struggling to stay attached to his blue eyes gazing at mine.

Then he walks over to me.

Is he going to give in?

He kneels, kissing my cheek, softly brushing my skin, and every fiber on my body jumps, electrocuted with heat. His beard prickles into mine and I bite the inside of my cheek, missing the way it feels between my thighs. I close my eyes tight as his lips linger for a second longer on my skin and then he pulls away, leaving me begging for more. The emotions sparked detrimentally from passion anchor down so fast to my stomach.

“Happy birthday, my little angel,” he tells me against my cheek, his voice vibrating through my ears, and I’m disoriented from the clash of his touch.

Of course, he knows it’s my birthday. I didn’t have to say a word.

“We can talk about the details of work another day. Today is your day,” he continues.

Maybe I can use this day to my advantage.

“It is my day,” I repeat.

He cups the left side of my face into his hand, and a low, deep groan releases from his throat. I open my eyes when I hear the familiar lustful sound, and I meet his darkened ones and I know this look too well. He wants me just as badly as I want him. Our faces are so close to touching, I can smell his intoxicating scent. His beautiful face is enveloped with face paint, and I am so attracted to it.

“The day we crossed paths was the day my world became worth living in.”

He brushes his finger across my bottom lip, and the need to truly feel him haunts me harder.

Damn it, he can’t say these things and then not expect it to not go any further between us?

He walks back toward my bathroom door. He pulls off all his equipment from his uniform and then places it on the dresser individually. After his vest is off, he tucks his fingers underneath his shirt, throwing it over his head, undressing. His well-trained and defined back muscles are on display, and I’m blushing hard when I see his back tattoo. I rub my thighs together, hoping it helps.

“I have a surprise for the birthday girl when you leave work.”

My eyebrows raise.

“Oh God. The last time you told me that, I was in a helicopter, unstrapped.”

He smirks followed by a laugh.

I want him so badly, but he thinks I’m not ready, and he’s probably right.

He places his shirt in the hamper, and I look at my clock on the nightstand. It’s three in the morning, and I refuse to go back to sleep, knowing I might dream of the Grim Reaper.

“You haven’t really touched me, Danny. You haven’t even kissed me since the attack.”

His body goes still. Is it still with desire? Or still, because I’ve called him out on something we have refused to discuss? We dismiss the elephant in the room that lingers every day.

It’s like my words struck a sensitive chord inside his soul, and my candor paralyzes him.

He looks back at me. His expressionless face infuriates me as it usually does. I can’t read him anymore and that frustrates me. The light from my lamp illuminates the profile of his beautiful face and I can see the scar on his lip.

“No, I haven’t. Because once I kiss you, I know myself too well.” He clenches his jaw. “If I kiss you, Ari, there’s no stopping me. I won’t be able to control my need to completely consume you…and we both know what that exactly means, my little angel.”