Page 56 of Redeeming Violet

“You hungry?” I asked.

“I could use a snack,” she answered.

I thought about driving up to Long Beach to stop, but with the traffic it would be another hour. I took the exit for the John Wayne Airport and hoped the café at the end of the runway was still open. It had been years since I’d been in this area. Shit pops up and closes down in California faster than a whore turns a john. But I was happy to see the Runway Café parking lot was jam packed when we pulled in. I remembered the bruising on Violet’s face, mentally kicking my own ass for not thinking about it sooner and deliberated pulling through a fast food joint. There was no way she’d want to go into a restaurant right now.

But we were here, and I was starving. “Stay here. I’ll grab us something and we can park by the tarmac and watch the planes land while we eat.”

“Okay.”

I made quick work of our lunch order and was back out to her and parking the car away from pedestrian traffic in under ten minutes. She popped a fry in her mouth and washed it down with her mint chocolate shake. When she pulled the straw from her sexy mouth, she smiled.

“That is the best shake I’ve ever had,” she told me.

“They are good.”

We ate in comfortable silence. When she’d finished her fries, she turned in her seat to face me.

“Can I ask you something?”

Damn! I was hoping to postpone this conversation a few more hours.

“Sure.”

“You…um…said you weren’t angry with me. But from where I was standing, you were looking at me like you hated me.”

I took a minute and I tried to gather my thoughts. This was too important to fuck up.

“First, I was never mad at you. I need you to understand that. However, I was angry, beyond angry. I’ve never experienced emotion in battle. I turn everything off. Emotions get you into trouble when you’re in the thick of a firefight. My mind is solely focused on the mission in front of me. I don’t have the luxury of feelings when bullets are flying my way. Yesterday, seeing you hurt and in danger, I couldn’t turn off my feelings. All I could think about was protecting you. Protecting you from getting hurt any more than you were. Protecting you from Ortega. But mostly protecting you from me. I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I just wanted you out of harm’s way and safe.”

“What side of you?” she asked.

“The cold and calculating man that gets sent into battle. The man that has no remorse, no hesitation, no regret when doling out punishment and death. There are some parts of me I never want you to see.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“That you get to hold a part of yourself away from me. Especially when in large part it makes you the man you are, the man I care about. I don’t want you to hide pieces from me. Would you like it if I held parts of myself back?”

That was a good question and there was only one answer.

“Fuck no.”

“Then don’t ever do it to me again,” she scolded. “What happened to Ortega?”

“Would you accept this is one of those times I’m trying to protect you and drop it?” I asked.

“No.”

Damn. She was so cute when she was acting tough. It reminded me of the first time she strolled into Zane’s house while he was kitted out, looking like he stepped off the battlefield. She’d held her own then, too.

“He’s dead.”

“How?” she sighed, as if my lack of details annoyed her.

“Seriously? He’s dead. You don’t need the blow by blow.”

She was quiet for a few minutes before she spoke again. When she did, she didn’t take her eyes off the runway in front of us.