"Stop it," he demanded sharply, and my hands fell limply to my lap. "You're powerful enough to take down our enemies. Do you hear me, Kinsley?"
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves before I had a full-on panic attack.
"Nobody fucks with the Gallaghers and gets away with it, not even Carson."
Burke was right. I would face the people who tried to kill me, who poisoned me and caused my miscarriage. I would wreck their egos and watch them die, choking on their own deceit.
"Steadier?"
With a final breath out, I nodded. "Sorry."
"No, baby, it's all right. It's so much to take in."
He was right. I needed his strength, his solidity, to seep into my pores. He kissed my forehead, and I held close to him for another few moments. We’d chosen our paths, each and every one of us, and I couldn't save the devil from hell if that's where he chose to reside. Mercy wouldn't come for them at the last second, but death would darken their doorstep in the time it took to chat over appetizers.
"Noah, go in the back and find somewhere discreet to watch over her. If anyone hurts my wife, I won't need my gun to kill you."
"Yes, boss." Noah exited the vehicle, jogging around to the back of the restaurant.
"It's now or never, Kinsley. Tell me what you want to do."
His eyes were so intense, so blue. I saw myself reflected in the depths and knew my answer. "I'm going in."
"I love you, mo shíorghrá."
"You're my eternal love too, just so you know."
His answering smile was the last thing I saw before I got out of the Mercedes. With a deep breath, I plastered a smile on my face and headed to the double doors held wide by uniformed men. I'd been there twice; once for a lovely evening and once for a disaster. The paneling had been replaced, no sign left of bullet holes or blood. Needing to take a minute, I went to the restroom first and stared at my reflection.
"You've got this," I whispered.
I turned on the cold water and let it run over my wrists to calm my racing pulse. Nobody would hurt me if they didn't want retribution worse than the fiery pits of hell to rain down on them. That was what I promised myself as I moved back to the dining room.
"Do you have a reservation?" the concierge asked with a polite smile.
"Yes, I'm Mrs. Gallagher."
"Ah, I see it here."
Scanning the room as he led me to a booth in the back corner, I noted the reserved table in the middle remained empty.
"Thank you."
I sat in the shadows, waiting for the Navarros and Carson to make an entrance. Time passed, and I began to worry it was all a trick. Tapping my fingers on my wine glass, I took inventory of who was there. I recognized a few of the staff from my previous visits there, but that was it. Since we hadn't counted on them not showing, Burke and I hadn't agreed on a time to abandon the mission.
A few minutes later, there was a commotion at the door. Raising my head, I spotted Asher Navarro speaking with the maître d' and gesturing wildly.
"Sir, I promise this is our finest table," a man said on approach. "I'm the owner, please allow me to seat you myself."
"It's exposed." Blaine was speaking then; complaining, of course.
Mr. Greene spoke up again. "Certainly we can relocate your party, but I assure you this table is perfect."
"Whatever," Asher said. "Just sit the fuck down, Blaine."
"Fine, fine."
I watched them sit down and order drinks from Mr. Greene. I wouldn't get up until I saw Carson, so I reclined in my seat to wait for his arrival.
