Ryshia Kennie - Marshal On A Mission

“There are two options here.”

“Don’t give me an ultimatum.” There was anger in her eyes and a shake to her voice. “This is all just speculation. Besides, like I said, Mexico is a big country.”

He remembered that about her. How she’d use anger as a shield. “Not big enough,” he said.

Her eyes were huge in her pale face.

He knew that despite her bravado she was very afraid. He felt bad. He didn’t want her afraid, but he needed her to know that eventually, home was exactly where he’d take her. He also knew this was a lot thrown at her all at once. He needed to give her time. Still, he kept pushing.

“You come home with me now or, like I said and I’ve already got your landlords’ approval, I sleep on your couch until I convince you otherwise. Your choice.”

“Damn you, Nielsen,” she said as she got up and turned to walk away. “The couch is all yours. Have at her because I’m sure as hell not going home.”

“Not yet,” he said in an undertone to her retreating back. “But soon.”

He chuckled as she turned around and gave him a bright smile and a sign that told him exactly where he could go. For a second, he felt like he’d hit Rewind and they were back in Pueblo so many years ago.

If only he could go there. Back to the past would be the safest place of all. Before this, before the tragedy, before any of it. A time when life had been innocent kisses and promises of forever love.

It was a time that would never return and one that he would never forget.

The next morning, Tara woke up earlier than usual. What little sleep she’d gotten had been broken by troubling dreams. She’d finally drifted off in the early hours. She was troubled at Trent’s presence as much as she was by the nightmare that he’d so recently resurrected. Him being here, him finding her, had completely thrown her. What he’d told her had terrified her. As a result, she’d had one horrifying dream after another.

Thoughts of him had kept her awake the majority of the night. He still made her heart race, but in a different way than he had all those years ago. She’d had to stop herself from staring at his confident stance as he stood taking in the activity in the street, or noticing how his hair curled dark and rich over his collar.

This was not the boy she had left behind when her family had moved all those years ago. She hadn’t seen him since he was seventeen and there was no comparison. His physique was that of a man who worked out. His manner was poised. He was a man used to winning and that both frightened and attracted her. And still she stumbled on memories of the past.

She remembered it all. She’d never forgotten. Six months out of their life—she’d been fifteen and he’d been seventeen. He’d been her first love, part of the magic of Pueblo. It was what made Pueblo different, and because of that, the city had lured her back.

She smiled as details of their relationship flooded back to her. They’d been so young, so naive. She remembered talking with him for hours, lying on their backs in the park, sharing their dreams and aspirations. He’d wanted to be in law enforcement. She’d never doubted him. But she’d never thought that one day he would not only succeed but become the United States marshal she needed.

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