Wicked Ever After (Wicked & Devoted #2) - Shayla Black Page 0,92

her way to the front door, the Hispanic woman who had entered just after them stood and fell in behind her. Brea looked over her shoulder at the woman pulling a tissue from her purse.

When the stranger looked up, she realized they were about the same age. The woman had the most beautiful black hair…and the saddest red-rimmed eyes. She’d definitely been crying. Brea’s heart went out.

“I’m sorry to intrude. I just… Are you all right?”

She looked startled and shook her head. “No. I… I am very sad. I lost my brother this week.”

It took Brea a minute to understand around the woman’s thick accent, but the second her meaning hit, Brea hurt for her. She was clearly grieving. And angry. Not a surprise since anger was one of the stages of grief.

“I’m so sorry.”

The brunette shook her head. “I-I am the one who is sorry. I do not know why I told you. You have a kind face. But my problems are not yours.”

When the woman walked around her and pushed out the door, Brea followed. “It’s all right. You should never apologize for your grief. You have my condolences for your terrible loss. If you ever need a welcoming community or just an opportunity to pray with people who will understand, my father is the reverend of a church in Sunset, just up the road.”

The stranger dabbed at her eyes, then tucked the tissue back in her purse. “Thank you. I am very sorry for this.”

Before Brea could question the woman, she pointed a gun in Brea’s direction. “My brother is dead, and your man is the one who killed him. Come with me now or I will shoot you.”

Chapter Eleven

One-Mile sauntered through the dimly lit restaurant toward the exit with a roll of his eyes. He would have already been in his Jeep and gone if one of the waitresses hadn’t spotted him leaving alone, tried to rub up against him, batted her lashes so fast he was shocked she hadn’t taken flight, and pressed her phone number in his hand.

He tossed it into the trash bin behind the hostess stand, not giving two shits if she saw. Despite her obvious cleavage and musky perfume, he wasn’t interested in the least.

The only woman he wanted was Brea Bell.

They’d been through so fucking much together. Ups, down, miscommunications, lies, injuries, separations, saboteurs like Cutter, and hell, even a whole damn town. He’d had to fight her family, her religion, her perception, and her fears… But he’d soldiered on because she belonged in his home, in his bed, wearing his ring, and carrying his babies.

Now the only thing that stood between him and that future was for one man to say yes.

One-Mile didn’t delude himself. That blessing, if he got it, would be hard-won. In fact, winning Preacher Bell over might be the hardest battle he’d ever fought because he couldn’t use his fists or pull out his firearm. He had to use his words and be persuasive. And he didn’t know what to say except that he loved Brea and wanted to take care of her for the rest of their lives.

With his thoughts running in circles, he pushed his way out of the restaurant to head for his Jeep so he could make the drive to Sunset, then do or say whatever necessary until Jasper Bell gave his consent. The sound of screeching tires to his right caught his attention. He turned and saw a sight that stopped him cold.

A black SUV hauled ass out of the parking lot—with Brea’s panicked face plastered against the back window.

Fucking son of a bitch…

Fear crashed through his system and tried to freeze him, but he shoved that shit into a mental compartment and locked it down as best he could. Then he breathed and forced himself to remember his training.

Still, his heart revved furiously as he yanked his keys from his pocket, unlocked his Jeep with a press of his jittery thumb, then dove behind the wheel, peeling out in hot pursuit.

The black SUV had disappeared around a curve. Goddamn it, he’d been so fucking focused on Brea that he’d only caught part of the license plate, and that wouldn’t help much if the vehicle had been stolen.

One-Mile careened around the bend in the road, his thoughts churning. Who would abduct her now? Why? It might be random…but he doubted it.

Was the tube of lipstick the colonel had received this morning somehow meant to be a warning for him, too?