Everything was different now. That knowledge hit him hard. Darling looked the same. It even felt the same, some of it anyway. But it wasn’t.Hewasn’t. Prison had carved pieces out of him, leaving the edges sharp. Now he had steel where there had once been something softer.
His grip tightened on the handlebars. And for a split second, he considered not stopping. Not turning onto the road that led to the Sabre warehouse. Just… going.
He could keep riding, leave Darling behind, and start over somewhere else, a place no one knew his name or his past, or his failures. There would be no expectations or memories to fight against. No Tazzy, looking at him like he’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed.
But that was the deal breaker… no Tazzy. If he thought he could leave again, he was lying to himself. Because if he did that, if he left her again, he’d lose her. And that cost was just too damn high.
“No,” he bit out. Then he leaned into the turn that took him toward Sabre Security. He wasn’t about to give her up again. Not this time. He’d done that once, and if he did it again, he’d regret it every damn day for the rest of his life.
As he gunned his motor and sped toward the warehouse, thememory hit him out of nowhere. Not that it was the first time, but this time it was intense. One second, he was on the road. The next, he was back in time with Tazzy. Back when things were simple. Back when she was his, and he hadn’t screwed it all up.
Eight years ago, it had been a quiet night. He’d taken her out to eat at her favorite restaurant, then driven out past the edge of town. Out where the streetlights faded. The night became soft and still, and they could pretend the world wasn’t complicated. It was just him and the girl he loved.
Tazzy had laughed when he told her to get out of the truck. “What are you doing?” she asked, smiling up at him.
God, her smile. It wrecked him then. It wrecked him now.
Taking her hand, he pulled her from her seat, telling her, “Trust me.”
“I always trust you,” she teased.
And that—that right there—that was the part that gutted him the most. Because now she didn’t. Not anymore.
But he’d never forget the way her eyes had shone brighter than anything in the heavens above them. It was the look she used to give him—open, bright, full of life. It hit him now like a punch to the chest.
He’d taken her hand, leading her a little way out into the clearing.
“Daddy,” she said softly, “what’s going on?”
He turned to face her, his heart pounding, which was ridiculous. He’d faced armed suspects. Led operations. Made calls that could end lives. And this was what had him nervous?
Clearing his throat, he said, “Sprite.”
“Yeah?” Her smile softened, and her eyes shone even brighter. They always did when he used the name he’d given her.
He exhaled slowly. “I’ve got an op tomorrow.”
Her expression shifted. “How long will you be gone?”
“A day. Maybe two.”
Her brows drew together. “That’s it? And then you’ll be back?”
“That’s it.” He stepped closer. “But I wanted to do this before I left.”
“Do what?”
He swallowed. Then he dropped to one knee, holding her tiny hands in his, he said, “Marry me.”
She froze. Then asked, “What?”
He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. Not exactly smooth.”
“Daddy—”
“I don’t have the ring with me,” he rushed. “I didn’t tell anyone. I just?—”
“Jaxon.” She stepped closer.