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

Five men sit tight, strapped and bound to a chair. It’s a dark room, and they only have one small light from a lamp that Lopez turned on. It illuminates them like a Broadway show. They’re the entertainment for the night.

This mission wasn’t what I was expecting. I caught myself hoping for a quick return to my angel in a day or two so I could make it up to her by having her sit on my face, devouring her until she shattered into clouds of bliss. Wishful thinking. It looks like this might drag out for weeks. Delta and the local police will show up soon to do their own investigative work.

“I’m the nice one. Please give me the answers. We all know how this ends tonight, right? With you finally giving in.”

“Suck my dick,” one of them says, spitting at Rooker, but he misses horribly. His saliva lands next to his feet. Rooker gives him a wicked grin. Even though he’s masked, I can see it.

I’m in the corner of the room, leaning against a wall in the dark with one of my boots pressed against a coffee table, sharpening my knife quietly, anxiously. Maybe I won’t have to get involved. But the sadistic parts of me hope I can get in on the fun.

They still don’t know I’m here. I’m Death’s shadow tonight. I’m no longer Danny.

“This ends with you guys revealing who your friend is. Show us, Mr. Death, and you all will be rich men.” The man seethes with hatred.

Lopez laughs as he circles them like a shark.

Kane stands there watching, a hand on his hip, fingers on his rifle.

“You don’t want to ask for the Reaper, son,” Rooker warns them with a wicked smile. Rooker is doing a fantastic job. I’m feeling more confident about my possible decision to leave the military. I’ll leave this life even if it used to mean everything to me. It is no longer that.

Ari is everything. Her happiness is everything to me. I put her in danger when I wear this uniform, and I don’t think I can do this anymore.

“I’m not scared of him. Come on, you guys will be millionaires. Tell us where he is, and I’ll tell my bossman to spare you and your family’s lives.” He snaps his teeth. “I know you’re Cobra.” He points to Rooker and then points to Kane.

“And you’re Bane.”

Kane holds onto his rifle tighter with anger.

Now I’m seething. If they fuck with me, that’s fine. In fact, I encourage it. They fuck with my brothers; they will repent soon.

“What’s your name? Let me help you. I encourage you to talk to me instead.” Rooker points to himself, his fingers uncurling with mercy.

Good. Because they won’t get that from me.

“I’m the nice one. But you’re pushing my buttons. Are you sure you’re not scared of the Reaper? He isn’t a man who grants mercy, but I am.” Rooker gets in the man’s face, and two start quivering with fear.

“We know more about you guys than you think. Rumor has it Mr. Death has a little girlfriend. And you have a wife and two daughters.” Rooker stands, clenching his fists, as one of the guys doles out information. He’s about to lose his control, and I don’t blame him, but we can’t touch them.

Do they know about his girls? Do they know about mine, or are they bluffing?

The thought of them getting their hands on her infuriates my veins. I see red and the Grim Reaper’s icy breath touches my neck. No one will ever lay a finger on her. They’ll be six feet under the ground if they even breathe the same air as her.

“Fuck no, we’re not scared of him. Nothing scares us,” another terrorist chimes in, and they laugh.

It’s my turn to laugh—loud, deep, husky, and wickedly. My roar of laughter interrupts the thickened, intense silence.

Everyone in the room turns to where my sinister, deep, rusty laugh came from. Now they have my full attention, and they will regret it.

Rooker sighs in defeat, letting his head fall and shaking it, disappointed at the captured criminals.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Rooker mocks them before he stands up. He crosses his arms, joining Kane.

I light a cigarette in the corner of the room. Sparks light up my face in the dark—once, twice, three times in the dark—before the fire finally burns on the tip of my cigarette.

Marlboro.

I breathe it in, letting my lungs settle the smoke. I hold it there for a couple of seconds. Then I push it out into the air.

I walk over to them slowly. With each step I take on the wooden floors in the dark, my boots make a loud, resounding thud.

They squint at me, trying to find me, and then I enter the spotlight that illuminates them. I’m towering over them, flinging my cigarette next to the guys’ feet, sighing as I place my hands over my knees as I squat.

His pants, where his groin is, darken.

Motherfucker pissed himself.

I shake my head, smiling underneath my mask, and get into the man’s face. My eyes circle more significantly with wrath as my smile fades, snapping my teeth, disappointed.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

Delta showed up an hour later and didn’t get much out of them tonight. We don’t know how these fuckers got information on our families. I sit in the basement, worried.

Do they really know about Ari? Do they know about Rooker’s wife and daughters?

But how?

I’m sitting on a chair in the dark basement, twirling my knife in my hand. I don’t feel like Ari is safe, and with what happened with Shane, I can’t risk losing her. My world only makes sense because she’s a part of it.

The need to take my phone out and text her overwhelms me. I feel like I need to check on her. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I know I need her to tell me she’s okay. I wonder if her nightmares are still haunting her, and I feel hopeless not being there to comfort her until she falls back asleep.

Ari has me wrapped around her wings, and I’m the one who’s in fucking trouble.

Our journey isn’t your typical one, but it was a wild road up to this point. Our relationship has been complicated since the start, but the longer she stays in my life, the more I can feel myself becoming the man I didn’t know existed and the man she needs me to be.

A man capable of change.

A man…utterly obsessed with the sweetest soul.

“What’s going on?” Rooker asks, walking down the steps.

I shake my head, frustrated, as I pocket my phone.

“Not here. We can talk more when we get back to base,” I whisper, unsure if the house is bugged. I don’t want to mention Ari or Noel giving these bastards more fuel to use against us.

“Grim, there’s more. I came down here to get you. You need to see this.”

My eyebrows raise as something sinks deep into the pit of my stomach. It isn’t good—this feeling of bad omens burns through my mind.

“Where?” I follow Rooker up the stairs from the basement. Instead of telling me, Rooker has me follow him.

He leads me into the hallway. We’re moving over dead bodies, one after one, my boots thud against the floor.

All the lights are still on and special operators and police raid the house, taking pictures of the scene and collecting evidence.

The room he leads me into has my heart breaking.

A group of young children, crying, hugging each other for comfort. They’re huddling together like penguins trying to disappear into the walls. Their eyes are full of confusion, loss, and fear. Lopez and other guys from Delta console them, getting them water to drink and asking them questions like what their favorite color is or their favorite cartoon to distract them from their reality.

“You guys are going home, all of you. You’re safe now. We’re not going to hurt you. We’re in the military,” Lopez ensures that they shouldn’t be afraid of us. He looks at them, one by one, observing their responses.

“It looks like this house wasn’t only to house terrorists. These kids were going to be trafficked.” Rooker crosses his arms against his puffed-out chest.

Wrath blinds my vision. Fire implodes underneath my skin and my chest aches, watching these innocent souls captured and forced to see what we fight against daily.

The evil in this world just won’t ever fucking stop.

“We just saved about twenty kids tonight,” Kane adds next to me, and I think about my son that I lost. My son that should be in Ari’s belly growing.

A huge lump in my throat forms and I have to clear my throat hard as I stare at these poor kids.

Shit.

“Get them back to base…safe. Admiral Ravenmore needs to know about this,” I order my team. I glance at the small children with distress.

Knowing I lost my son…this hits harder than usual. I can’t imagine how the parents of these abducted kids are feeling right now. I would go fucking crazy. Burning the whole world down until I found my son.

As I’m about to walk out, a little boy, who looks about five, takes off running. Lopez doesn’t try to stop him. As soon as he reaches me, he crashes against my thigh and holds onto my legs like he’s trying to hang on a raft in the ocean for dear life.

He tugs on my pants, and I give him my undivided attention.

“Excuse me, mister,” he says through sobs, tugging on my pants again, and my heart anchors down into a pool of sadness, hearing his plea. Even through such a traumatic, dark experience, he’s polite.

He has the same features as Ari. Tan skin, black hair. I can’t help but imagine our son may have come out with these same features.

“What’s up, little man?” I squat, so we’re now face to face.

“I want to see my daddy and mommy. Please, mister.”

“I promise you, you’ll be with them soon. We’re taking you to a safe place where those bad guys will never see you again.”

“Can I ask more questions?”

“Yes, little man?”

“What’s your name? You look a little scary.”

I can’t tell him my real name. I’ll give him the short version.

“Grim.”

“That’s a funny name.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Are you a superhero?”

“No, little man, I’m a SEAL.” I ruffle his hair playfully, and he giggles. “You’re safe now, you all are. You’re going home.”

He stops giggling when the words of sanctuary register for him. Then he throws his little body around my shoulder, hugging me hard. At first, I go still. I don’t have too many interactions with children. But I interact with the little guy as if he was my son.

I hug the boy back, patting his little back.

“You’re not a seal—that’s an animal,” he tells me, puzzled.

“Not that kind of SEAL.” I break away from the hug, ruffling his black hair again. “I work for the Navy.”

He beams, amused, observing me for a few seconds. “I want to be just like you when I grow up…a SEAL.” He sniffles. He wipes his tears away with his little hand.

If I’m not already fucking broken, I am now.

I take off my mask. My face is still covered in camo paint with green, black, and brown layers, so I’m not worried about my identity being exposed.

I toss it over to the little boy, and his eyes light up like a Christmas tree. His brown eyes glimmer with joy through the holes of the front.

The disguise is too big for his little head, but he holds it into place with his hands, so it stops swaying.

“You already are a superhero.”