one of them.
“Maybe we could work out sometime. Spar or something.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure, no problem.” At least Poniard wasn’t asking for a letter of reference or anything. “Hopefully, I’ll be cleared for active duty next week. But I’d be happy to do some lighter stuff with you until then.”
“That would be awesome. Thanks. Are you hanging back in the shadows looking for Freihof? I’ve been doing the same thing.”
Maybe Poniard would make a better SWAT member than leadership was giving him credit for.
“Yeah. I have to admit I am. Although Steve Drackett was over here a minute ago reminding me that it’s okay to relax. That there are other people on guard here.”
And Steve and Grace both were right. Roman needed to not let Freihof steal any more of his life. His eyes flew back to Keira, who’d made her way onto the dance floor with the bride and the groom’s sisters.
Keira was a much better place to center his attention, rather than searching for an enemy who wasn’t here, or avoiding family who wanted what he didn’t.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Saul said. “But I understand. SWAT has to be diligent.”
Roman clapped the other man on the shoulder and gave him a smile. “How about if you help us be diligent tonight? Just keep an eye out.”
Saul nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, will do.”
Roman excused himself. His mother was moving in his general direction and he had to make sure she didn’t catch him. He didn’t want a scene tonight.
Roman smiled and took another sip of his beer as he moved away. He loved his mother, even though Maureen Weber Donovan tended to be a little conceited. He knew she loved him and fiercely guarded the family name. She’d remarried after Roman’s father, a member of the Colorado General Assembly, had died fifteen years ago, and had never stopped encouraging her children to continue their father’s political legacy.
Whether they’d wanted to or not.
Not that Roman wasn’t ever going into politics. He just wanted to do it on his own terms, not on his mother’s. He wanted to make a difference in the system, and his time at Omega Sector continued to help him understand where the system worked and where it needed fixing.
Roman rubbed a hand over his face and sat down at a table that had been vacated by people out on the dance floor, still glancing around the shadows, looking for danger. A couple months ago he would’ve been out on the floor with them. Could’ve kept a watchful eye out while having fun at the same time. He was known as the jokester on the SWAT team. The one with a witty comeback and always ready for a good time, taking nothing too seriously.
Or had been.
He wasn’t trying to go back to that persona. He’d been changed at some very basic level by his near-death experience and would never be that same person again.
And although he had no desire to talk politics tonight at his friend’s wedding, he could see that perhaps he might be moving in that direction sooner rather than later. Not because he was afraid of death or wanted to get out of the SWAT team, but because now more than ever he realized how short life really was.
Maybe it was just time for him to grow up. Maybe all these changes would’ve come about regardless. All Roman knew was that he couldn’t go back to who he’d been before he’d almost died. Didn’t want to go back to who he was formerly.
But before he could move forward with his life, they were going to have to catch Damien Freihof. Although Roman had to make peace that it wasn’t going to happen tonight.
Keira had taken herself back off the dance floor and was standing over in the shadows at the side of the room. Roman stood. He was finished staying away from her.
Finished letting Damien Freihof determine every decision he made.
At least for now.
“How do I know the bride? Oh, we used to be strippers together back in the day.”
Keira hadn’t actually used that statement as the answer to the question she’d been asked a few times, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.
But Andrea, the bride and one of Keira’s closest friends, hadn’t disclosed her previous line of work, so Keira wouldn’t, either.
Although Keira didn’t care who knew she was once an exotic dancer. She wasn’t ashamed of it. She had clawed her way out of a hell most people would never even conceive, and she wouldn’t apologize for how she’d survived. Dancing had been part of that.
But if the bride wanted to keep her past private, that was certainly her prerogative. Keira wouldn’t reveal the information, either.
“Hey there, beautiful. You doing okay?”
The bride had somehow sneaked up on Keira right as she’d been thinking about her. Their arms wrapped around each other.
“Yes! What are you doing over here with me? Brandon’s going to be looking for you.”
Andrea smiled, her straight blond hair in stark contrast to Keira’s riotous dark curls. “He’s watching me, I can feel it. I’m not sure where he is exactly, but I can guarantee he knows where I am.”
Keira laughed. “If he wasn’t so crazy in love with you, that would be sort of stalkerish. But I know what you mean.”
Andrea’s smile, as always, was soft and sweet. She was never going to be someone who wanted to draw attention to herself if she had other options. That had been true even back in their dancing days. Keira still didn’t know how Andrea had managed to survive it.
Except that Andrea was a survivor.
Ultimately, that had drawn Keira and Andrea together, the two of them so opposite in personality, looks and temperament. Survivor had recognized survivor.
“I love you, Andrea.” Keira brought her friend in for another hug. “And I’m so excited for you here on your beautiful day, and for the stalker standing over there with some friends, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.”
“Do you really think this turned out okay?” Doubt tinged Andrea’s voice. “This wedding was so much bigger than I wanted. This reception so elaborate. It’s just that Brandon’s family is involved with politics and business. They wanted to do the whole big thing.”
“It’s perfect. The wedding was beautiful, everyone is having a good time at the reception and you’re handling it all like a champ.”
Andrea didn’t have her own family—her parents had died when she was young, and the people who’d raised her afterwards had made her home life so bad that she’d run away as a teen rather than stay there—but Keira had to admit the Hans had embraced her with such open arms that she could hardly claim no family anymore. They loved their son and loved their new daughter-in-law.
Proof
