Page 30 of Diesel’s Second Chance

June's pressed against my chest, her breathing uneven, and I can feel wetness seeping through my shirt. She's crying silently, trying to hold it together, and it's breaking something in me.

"Hey." I tilt her face up, brush tears away with my thumbs. "Look at me."

She does, and her eyes are red-rimmed and terrified.

"I'm coming back," I tell her. Firm. Certain. "I swear to God, June, I'm coming back to you."

"You can't know that." Her voice cracks. "You're riding into a war zone. Anything could happen."

"Then I'll fight harder." I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her trembling lips. "I've got too much to lose now. Too much waiting for me here. I'm not dying tonight."

"Jackson…"

"No." I frame her face with both hands. "Listen to me. I've spent twenty years in love with you. Twenty years watching you from a distance, convincing myself I'd never have this. And now I do. Now I know what it feels like to hold you, to kiss you, to be inside you. You think I'm giving that up? You think anything the Vipers throw at me is worse than living without this?"

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I can't lose you. I can't bury another person I love."

"You won't." I pull her closer, wrap my arms around her so tight she can barely breathe. "I'm coming home. To you. To this. To whatever future we're building together."

She's shaking in my arms, fingers clutching my shirt like I might disappear if she lets go.

"Promise me," she whispers. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise you. Again. Over and over. " I kiss the top of her head. "I'll have my brothers watching my back. Phoenix has planned this down to the minute. We're going in smart, going in prepared. And I'm coming out alive because I've got you waiting for me."

We stay like that for a long time. Just holding each other while the clock ticks down. I memorize the curve of her spine under my palm, the smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing gradually steadying.

At 10:45, I force myself to move. Pull away gently and start getting dressed. June sits on the bed watching me, wrapped in my t-shirt, looking small and scared.

I pull on my jeans, my boots, the flannel she stripped off me hours ago. Strap on my shoulder holster, check my Glock. The weight settles against my ribs, reminder of what I'm walking into.

"I hate that you have to go," June says, holding tears back.

"I know." I sit beside her on the bed, take her hand. "But ending this tonight means we don't have to keep looking over our shoulders. Means I can actually build something with you without worrying that they’re going to use you to get to me."

She squeezes my fingers. "If you come back—" She stops, corrects herself. "When you come back, we need to talk. Really talk. About what this is, what we're doing, how we move forward."

"Yeah." I bring her hand to my lips, kiss her knuckles. "We will. We'll figure it all out together."

"I love you." The words come out fierce. "I need you to know that. Whatever happens, I love you, Jackson Reed."

"I love you too." I cup her face, kiss her one more time. Pour everything I'm feeling into it: the love, the fear, the promise. "And I'm coming back to you. To these arms. To this bed. To whatever life we're building."

When I finally pull away, we're both breathing hard.

"Walk me out?" I ask.

She nods and follows me downstairs. We don't say much. Just exist in each other's space for the last few minutes we have.

At the front door, I turn to face her one more time. She's backlit by the hallway light, still wearing my shirt, hair messy from my hands, lips swollen from my mouth. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"I'll text you when I can," I tell her. "Might not be until it's over, but I'll let you know I'm okay."

"Please do." Her voice is small. "I'll be up all night waiting."

"Try to sleep."

"Not happening."