Broken Promises (The Broken Road Series Book 2)

by Melissa Huie

“What? Come on Jen!” Jared put fresh shots down in front of us.

  “Nope, I’m good. Lauren may be at my mom’s, but I do have to pick her up at some point,” Jen laughed, mentioning her four year old daughter.

  “Hell then, no use wasting a good drink.” I took her shot and drank it quickly. Jen’s look of concern bothered me.

  “What?” I couldn’t help sounding annoyed. “I mean heck, I’m just trying to have a little fun. Put some of the drama behind me, let loose, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know. Just haven’t seen you drink like this in a while,” she said, watching me order another cider.

  “Well yeah, it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to go out and just be me. I’ve had a dead boyfriend, a Cartel chasing me, a baby, a house fire, and now my boyfriend is off doing God knows what. Plus I haven’t gotten laid in like … forever. Shit, I deserve this.” Does my voice sound funny? I giggled, then tried to put on a serious face.

  “You’re right, you deserve a good time. But don’t you think you’re over doing it?” I rolled my eyes at her and stuck out my tongue. Southern Edge came back to the stage, immediately starting with “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”

  “Come on, let’s dance!” I didn’t give her a chance to answer, as I pulled her away from the bar. We danced for a few more songs until the ballad they are most known for, ‘Losing You’ came over the speakers. Jen found Matt, who only dances to slow songs, leaving me in the middle of the dance floor by myself. Awkward. Tears of self-pity stung behind my eyes and I glanced around at all the paired partners, gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes. Ugh, I will NOT be the drunk crier, I thought with resolve, walking back to the bar. Knowing I’d better sober up, I asked Jared for a soda and my tab.

  “I got you,” Tommy said behind me. I quickly turned around at the sound of his voice and my feet got tangled up. I lost my balance, ending up falling into his arms. “Shoot, now I really got you.”

  “Thanks, Tommy,” I grabbed the bar to pull myself out of his embrace and a giggle escaped. “Whoops.”

  “Oh hell, you’re drunk,” Tommy muttered.

  “Am not!” I cried indignantly. Okay, maybe a smidge.

  “You’re not driving home like this,” he retorted angrily. What the fuck? Why was he pissed?

  “No shit Sherlock. I’ll get a ride with Jen,” I snapped, pulling my arm away.

  “Fuck that, I’m taking your ass home.” Oh shit. Shane. The anger in the tone startled me. Wincing, I turned around. Fury danced in his eyes. Remember you’re pissed at him, I told myself. Sneaking a glance at Tommy’s smirk, I steeled myself against Shane’s furious stare.

  “What are you doing here, Shane?” I crossed my arms and tried to give him the death stare, only to erupt in giggles.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. You’re fucking hammered,” Shane rolled his eyes and made a grab for my arm. Instinctively, I pulled away.

  “So what? I’m having a good time.”

  “Shane, why don’t I …” Tommy interjected, but Shane cut him off.

  “Tommy, shut up. You’re not involved with this,” Shane warned.

  “The hell I’m not. I’m looking out for her, making sure she’s okay. What were you thinking, letting her drink like this by herself?” Tommy shot back. Oh shit, this isn’t good. Given the history between these guys, I knew I needed to step in.

  “Hey, both of you shut up. Jen and Matt are here, they’ll take me home.” I retorted.

  “Megan, don’t be ridiculous -” Shane started, reaching for my hand.

  “No. Shut your damn mouth. I’m so fucking pissed at you right now. The one night we’re baby-free and you’re too busy to hang out with me? You don’t call when you’re running late? I had dinner on the table, waiting for you. Again Shane. You’re never home anymore. Where the hell were you?” I snapped.

  Tommy leaned against the bar with a smirk across his face, as if he was enjoying our drama. Shane opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The lack of excuses or reasoning sent my temper through the roof. I don’t need this bull shit. If he can’t tell me what he’s doing and not bother to call me, screw him. I just shook my head.

  “Fuck it,” I said softly. Even over the din in the bar, I knew he heard what I said. I turned on my heel and headed toward the corner booth where Jen and Matt were waiting.

  “Dammit, Megan, wait!” Shane’s voice bellowed behind me. Fighting back the tears, I stopped. I’m tired of being taken for granted. Sulking, I turned around with my arms crossed and waited for his apology.

  “Look Megan, it’s been—” Shane started. But an all too familiar pop radiated throughout the room, startling the crowd. Murmurs and low chatter momentarily sidetracked the crowd from its dancing and boozing.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, my eyes widening, though I knew the answer through my drunken haze. Shane gripped my hand tightly, his body tense, as he scanned the room. His knowing stare locked with Tommy, who gave a sharp nod. They knew exactly what that sound was. With everything we’ve been through this past year and despite their hatred for each other, their main focus was my safety. Speaking into his earpiece for backup and reaching underneath his shirt for his gun, Tommy moved toward the back hallway. Shane turned to me with urgency.

  “You need to get out of here,” he said, his voice low in my ear. I opened my mouth to speak, but three loud shots, then a shrill scream silenced me. “Go!” he said, pushing me to the door. Panic rippled through the club, the ascension of pandemonium reaching the height of hysteria. Shane reached into his back waist band, pulled out a silver gun, and raced back to Tommy. I shouted his name but it was lost in the sounds of chaos.

  Matt and Jen appeared next to me and grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go, Megan!” she cried, yanking me toward the door. Swept up in the wave of confusion and terror, the crowd rushed the exits, with Jason and Josh helping those who had fallen. Once outside, the police had arrived and were moving people cross the parking lot to stand in front of the stores. More police cars pulled into the shopping center, their response time so quick thanks to the station being less than a mile away, and blocked the entrances to keep people from leaving.

  “What the hell is going on? This never happens around here,” Jen asked, out of breath. Matt rubbed her back absentmindedly, while viewing the scene before us. People huddled for warmth in the crisp March air in front of the darkened nail salon and closed eateries. I ignored the question, searching each face and body looking for Shane.

  “They haven’t come out yet. Where are they?” I wondered out loud Fear for Shane and Tommy’s lives twisted my body into knots. Any minute, they’ll come out. Any minute now. Suddenly, two more shots rang out and screams echoed through night air.

  Chapter 18

  “Shane!” I screamed, lunging forward. Matt’s broad arms grabbed me before I could get any farther. “Let me go! Shane’s in there!”

  “Megs, you can’t go in there. The cops and Tommy are with him. He’s safe,” Matt soothed. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I sobbed in Matt’s arms, fearing the worst.

  We waited for what seemed like forever. My heart dropped as the SWATT van pulled in next to the Double J’s. I spied Kevin’s buddies and fellow officers working the crowd, and they gestured that they’d come over shortly. Finally, they made their way over to us with grim looks on their faces.

  “Where’s Shane?” I demanded, wiping away my tears. Officer Fiedler, a friend since middle school, heaved a big sigh. His face drawn in a frown, he uttered the words that tore through me.

  “You know we aren’t allowed talk about this, but you deserve to know. I don’t want to alarm you, but Shane’s been injured, Megs and there’s one fatality. But we can’t get to them. The shooter is still inside and he has a hostage.” My knees buckled, but luckily Jen and Matt held me up.

  “How bad?” I asked.

  Knowing they shouldn’t go into detail but sensing my fear and panic, Officer Farr, offered what he knew. “We’re not sure. We’ve been spe
aking with Tommy on his cell phone and he said that Shane was shot in the chest. The hostage negotiator is talking with the guy now, trying to allow the EMTs access to him but so far, the asshole’s not budging. We have a sniper in place now. As soon as we get the bastard down, we’ll be able to assess Shane.”

  Fresh tears made their way down my cheeks as I thanked my friends. Jen, Matt, and I waited with trepidation as time went by. The shopping center became a circus as the media swooped into this normally quiet riverside town. The biggest things that ever happen in this area are car accidents and random juvenile antics. Hostage situations and bar shootings aren’t part of the vernacular of Anne Arundel County as a whole, much less Edgewater.

  Minutes ticked by and my nerves were shot. Finally a single, loud pop rang out. “Go, Go, Go!” sounded through the radio. EMTs and fellow officers rushed in to the bar. I pulled out of Jen’s arms and hurried over to the entrance, only to have an officer deny me entry.

  “That’s my boyfriend in there! I need to see him!” I demanded, my normal respect for law enforcement in shreds.

  “Hey Doug, she’s with me.” Tommy’s voice came from the back of the bar. Seeing my opportunity, I pushed Doug’s arm aside and ran into the bar, meeting Tommy halfway.

  His arms encircled my waist as I tried to get by. A huddled group of medics worked feverishly on a still body lying on the floor. I couldn’t see the face, but my heart knew. I struggled against Tommy to get to Shane.

  “I need him Tommy. I need to see if he’s all right. Please Tommy.” I begged and pleaded, but his arms tightened around me.

  “Megs, let them work on him. He lost a lot of blood.” Tommy said roughly.

  “Clear!” shouted an EMT. I watched in absolute horror as they placed the defibrillator on his chest. “We got a reading. Let’s get him out of here.” Moving quickly, they loaded Shane onto the gurney and started for the door.

  “I’m going with him,” I stated, daring anyone to object. I ran for the booth where we had sat earlier. I grabbed the purses and jackets then dashed after the EMTs

  “I’ll meet you there,” Tommy called from behind me. I didn’t bother answering. My only objective was to make sure Shane was okay. Jen and Matt waited by the door, anxious for an update. I handed off their belongings, quickly telling them what I knew.

  “I’ll call you guys once I find out anything,” I added, getting into the ambulance. Looking at Shane scared me and I wanted to cry. Pale and still, the only way I knew he was alive was the barely visible rise and fall of his chest. I tuned out the noises and the chatter, the beeps and monitors. My sole focus was on him. I desperately wanted to hold his hand, to make sure he knew I was here, but I stayed in my seat, not wanting to get in anyone’s way.

  Within ten minutes we arrived at the medical center emergency room. Jumping out of the ambulance, I followed the EMTs as they wheeled Shane into the ER but was prevented from going with him.

  “Miss, you have to stay here,” a no nonsense nurse said to me, restricting my walk through the door. Despite my pleas and angry outbursts, she didn’t relent. I resigned myself to the sterile-feeling, uncomfortable waiting room, frustrated as time clicked by. I filled out paperwork for him; answering only the questions I knew and put my name down as his spouse. After the first thirty minutes, a doctor came out to talk to me. He told me that Shane’s lung collapsed and that he needed surgery to remove the bullet from his chest. But the good news is that he was alive. I finally allowed myself a bit of relief, but knew I wouldn’t feel better until I knew he was out of surgery. I texted Adrian, Jen, and Mom once I had the piece of good news, then sat down to wait.

  “Hey, Megs.” Tommy walked over and sat down beside me. “How’s Shane?”

  I rubbed my face tiredly. “His lung collapsed and he’s in surgery right now.” His arm came around my shoulders and pulled me into him. I closed my eyes and sighed. We sat like that for a few minutes, before I looked up at him. His face was haggard and I felt bad. I had momentarily forgotten that Tommy was in danger too.

  “Hey, how are you doing? You okay?” I asked softly, squeezing his hand.

  Tommy gave me a grim smile. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

  “What happened in there tonight?” I knew if he said anything, it would break all sorts of protocols and rules, but I needed to make sense of what happened.

  Tommy exhaled slowly. “It was a drug deal gone bad. From what we can figure out, this dude, Diego Constantine, was dealing drugs to an eighteen-year-old waitress and was caught in the act by an off-duty cop, Mark Sinclair. That was the first shot we heard. We think he panicked when Mark walked back there and killing him was a knee jerk reaction. When Shane and I got back there, he was freaking out, screaming at the waitress. Then he grabbed her and had the gun to her head.”

  I gasped. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s dead. Shane went for her, and Diego shot him, and then her,” he said gravely. He bent over and rested his chin in his hands. “Megs, I tried to get to them both, but Diego had the upper hand. I couldn’t move.”

  It was my turn to comfort him. Tommy took each loss of life hard, feeling like he failed the victims. I shook my head at the senseless tragedies that have been taking place. Violence seems to follow me. Am I the reason behind it? Is the Cartel targeting everyone I love? What the hell did I do, bringing a child into this world? Is this going to be her life too? When is this going to end? Anxious questions whirled in my mind, making me rethink everything. Maybe coming home wasn’t the best idea.

  Another hour passed as Tommy and I silently sat in the cold, chaotic room. I tuned out the wails of family members, the drunkards who lurched and stumbled around, and the children wailing because they were ill. My only concentration was Shane. At two in the morning, the doctor came walking through the automatic double doors and we stood to meet him.

  “Your husband is a lucky man, Mrs. Turner. The surgery went well and he’s in recovery. The collapsed lung was repaired and the bullet didn’t do any major damage beyond that. He’s in the ICU right now, but if things go well, he should be able to go home in a few days.”

  Relief coursed through my body. I pulled the doctor into a tight hug. “Thank you so much,” I whispered, brushing away the tears. “Can I see him?” The doctor nodded and led us to his room.

  “I’ll wait out here,” Tommy muttered.

  I walked the maze of corridors with the doctor to Shane’s room. The only sounds were the heart monitor and the sound of the ventilation machine. His ashen face looked peaceful as he laid there among the wires.

  “The detectives came to ask questions, but I sent them away. Shane’s in no shape to talk to them and he needs his rest. And so do you,” the doctor gently chided. “I’ll allow a few minutes, but then I want you to go home.” He made a notation on Shane’s chart and left the room.

  Pulling a chair up to the bed, I gently took his hand and put it up to my lips. He slowly woke and I was never more grateful to see those hazel eyes.

  “Hey baby. How are you feeling?” I whispered, brushing my fingers against his scruffy chin.

  Shane licked his dry lips. “Like I was shot,” he groaned dryly. I put the straw that was in a cup of water to his lips and he eagerly sucked on it.

  “The doctor says that you’re going to be fine. You just need to hang out here for a few days.” Shane nodded, his eyes closing. Then he snapped them open.

  “What happened to Diego?”

  I sighed. “The sniper got him. The waitress, the off-duty cop, they are both dead.”

  “Fuck,” he groaned.

  “I know.”

  “They weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Yeah, I guess it was wrong place, wrong time for the three of you.”

  “No. Not that,” he said, frustrated. “Diego had ties to the Cruz Cartel. I used to run with him when I was with them. I ran into him about a month ago down at Smokey’s Deli. We got to talking. For a while he was gung-ho. The crew was his life—he lived and breat
hed that shit. After I left, got caught, whatever, he realized that maybe being with them isn’t such a good thing. Especially now that he had a new baby boy and a girl down in Virginia Beach that he wanted to be with. Diego’s a good guy; he was tired of the life and already out on parole. He didn’t want to go back to the cell and was scared out of his mind. But he knew what happened to me. He was going back and forth on bailing out. We’d talk a couple of times a week. I kept telling him that once we got the Cartel dismantled, we would be safe. But he kept saying how he doesn’t trust anyone and there’s no loyalty anymore. I almost had him convinced to meet with Rick.”

  “What happened? Did you meet him at Double J’s?”

  “No, I met him over at the park on Patuxent River Road. We talked for a while and Rick was going to meet us there. But Diego had a deal to make, so we drove up to the bar. He went to go do his thing, and that’s when I saw you.”

  “Tommy said that Diego shot Mark because Mark was undercover.” I informed Shane, giving him another sip of his water.

  “That would explain why Diego looked deranged. Obviously he didn’t know Freddy was undercover, or we wouldn’t have gone there.”

  “That’s probably why he shot you too,” I surmised. Shane looked confused.

  “Megs, I have no idea who shot me. At one point I thought there was some else back there, but who the hell knows. When I showed up, Tommy had his gun drawn on Diego, Diego had his gun on the waitress, and then he started screaming at me that I played him. Mark was on the ground, bleeding out of his head. It was tense as hell and everyone was on edge.”

  There was a knock at the door. “Mrs. Turner, your husband needs his rest,” the nurse reminded me sternly. I sighed, stood and brushed my lips with his.

  “Mrs. Turner?” he asked with a grin.

  “Hey, it worked for you when I was in the hospital. Just another technicality,” I joked. “She’s right though. I need to go. But I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” I said, pulling on my jacket.