Promises Unbroken by Kristina Hall

Author:Kristina Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian historical romance fiction, christian historical suspense, mafia books, mobster books, crime family, veterans, sisters
Publisher: Kristina Hall
Published: 2021-06-25T16:00:00+00:00

IT WAS OVER.

He’d turned in the evidence and quit his job. Never again would he have to sit in that office questioning if he should still be there. Never again would he have to stay late combing through book after book.

He glanced over his shoulder. Hundreds of people crowded the sidewalk behind him even though lunchtime was more than an hour away. Any of those people could be one of Rossi’s men. The businessman waiting for a taxicab. The vendor hawking apples on the corner. The policeman on the other side of the street staring into traffic.

But they weren’t. No one had followed him from the police station or the office. No one now spared him so much as a glance.

A gust of wind tugged at his overcoat and pushed it away from his body.

He slipped his hand into his suit coat and brushed the .45. Automobiles crept by on his left, their exhaust forming clouds of white in the cold air.

Except for dealing with Hazel and testifying against Rossi if charges were brought forth, it was over.

He pulled his hand from his suit coat and buttoned his overcoat. An icy breeze clawed at his face, numbing his nose and lips.

He should’ve taken a taxicab, but sitting in the cramped back seat while the driver fought through the clogged streets would’ve only increased his tension.

He let out a slow breath and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Step by step, the blocks slipped by. The crowds thinned. The traffic quieted.

Rossi would learn of his betrayal, but hopefully by that time, the police would have enough evidence to arrest him and his men.

His boardinghouse loomed in front of him, its three stories of weathered siding standing at odds with the pristine brick houses occupying the rest of the street. Weak sunlight edged through the clouds, highlighting the shutter hanging crooked on a second-floor window.

Hair prickled on the back of his neck, and he glanced over his shoulder.

Nothing. Not a single pedestrian or automobile.

Still, he unbuttoned his overcoat to allow quick access to the .45.

He stepped into the front yard of his boardinghouse, his shoes crunching through the hardened snow.

Footsteps echoed a steady though quiet rhythm behind him.

He jammed his hand into his coat and gripped the .45.

He’d turn, and no one would be there. The steps would be only a figment of his imagination.

He eased around.

Moretti strode down the street close to twenty-five yards away, his hands shoved in his pockets. In his right, he surely gripped a pistol.

Davis stilled. He could have his .45 drawn and cocked in a matter of seconds, but if Moretti already had his weapon cocked, he’d gun him down before Davis had a chance.

The front door stood thirty feet away, close yet too far. Running would earn him nothing but a couple of bullets in the back. But a tree stood ten feet from him. If he could make it behind that cover, he’d have a chance. A slim chance.

Moretti slowed. “You know why I’ve come, Everleigh.

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