The Sordid Promise

by Courtney Lane

  “Do you know what you want, Nik?”

  I shrugged. “Ask me when I didn’t bury my mother the day before.” I dropped the fork as I felt a sudden ache in my stomach. “I can’t. I tried. My stomach is cramping.”

  “It’s good enough. You can stop.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hand, toying with my fingers. “Maybe we should take a vacation. A weekend away somewhere in the near future.”

  “Yes. Because my frown looks so much better underneath the sunshine on a sandy beach.”

  “What are we doing after your appointment?” he sneered.

  “I need some things for Maisha, and…” His eyes lifted at me, pushing me to continue. I lightly shivered at the memory of last night. I once thought he was just full of hot air, but I was proved very wrong. “Some variation of what we did last night. I um….maybe this time I can convince you that I want it.”

  His smile broadened as he intertwined his fingers with mine and closed his hand. I clutched my torso, suddenly feeling like I swallowed a brick. “I wasn’t going to fuck you, no matter how hard you begged.”

  “I kinda got the message after—I figured you just wanted to hear how dirty my mouth could be.”

  “And you really fucking were.” He leaned forward with a mischievous smile. “If you’re good, I might be able to swing something.”

  “Swing…something?”

  “That wasn’t a double entendre. I never have been and I never will be that discreet.”

  Despite the sullenness just at the surface, he brought a smile out of me. It seemed impossible to do, but he did it. He broke the cold, stone statue.

  He slightly tempered his expression. “I know it’s not the right time. But hopefully, you’ll be doing that a lot more.”

  “When it ends…? What’s the word then?”

  “Hadn’t thought about it. But if far down the road, it so happens that I’m wearing something here—” He pointed to his fourth finger left hand. “—and you’re wearing something even bigger here—” He pointed to my fourth finger left hand. “—then, don’t hold your breath.”

  “Eric—”

  “If you say anything about me moving too fast, I’m going to shut you down. It’s my show. I’m the writer, producer, director, and leading man. You’re the supporting character who goes along with my script. Got it?”

  I saluted him with a nod.

  “I’m glad I proved you wrong.” He stood, leaned over the table, and kissed my forehead. “I have to head over to my place and change. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes to take you to the lawyer.” He gazed over what I was wearing with an ever increasing frown. “Wear something better than that, Nik.” I watched his back as he strode out the door, realizing, I forgot to ask him about my razors.

  I didn’t exactly know the how or the what. I wouldn’t care to know until I started to feel something other than what he made me feel at current. I wouldn’t worry until it became something other than a distraction from my pain — until it became a burden.

  My phone nearly vibrated off the table. I sighed heavily when I saw the picture that popped up on the screen. Trent. The only semblance of a friend I’d ever had. I met him years ago when I used to troll suicide forums. We bonded over the fact that he lived in my hometown. He often came to Pullman to visit me. He’s a bit younger than me and had more emotional issues than I do. His highs used to get me high, and his lows made me remember mine. He counted as my second boyfriend for all of two days. We slept together once, but it was so awkward, I vowed never to do it again. He became a bit of a controlling brat when my mother’s sickness increased in severity. Eventually, I stopped picking up his calls.

  “Trent.”

  “You sound so fucking happy to hear from me,” he puffed out. “Meet me at the spot. I need to talk to you.”

  “Your call…is a little late for condolences.”

  “Parents. Fucking parents!” he screamed through the phone, forcing me to take the phone away from my ear. “The bastards cut me off. They want me to go to rehab.”

  I tossed my eyes to the sky as I set the phone next to my cheek.

  Trent had a life that most people would envy. He took advantage of it by doing nothing of substance, but filling his life with drugs and women. “You’re not crashing here.”

  “Meet me at our place. I’ll be there until you get there.” He ended the call.

  My mother’s lawyer waited just outside his office, on the fifth floor of a high rise located downtown, to meet with me. He looked through me and on to Eric as we approached him in the hall. “Ah, Dr. Brenton, right this way.”

  “Mr. Eubanks?” I questioned with confusion.

  He looked startlingly at me. “Miss Givens. I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge you. My condolences.”

  “Aren’t I…supposed to meet with you?”

  He regarded me with caution. “Mrs. Lepore is the executor of your mother’s will.”

  “What do you need to see him for?” I asked Eric.

  He grabbed my face and briefly kissed my lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” With a minor nod, he disappeared down the hall with Mr. Eubanks. Puzzled, I stared after his broad back as it disappeared down the hall.

  “Miss Givens?” I turned to the voice of Mrs. Lepore. Her high arched brow furrowed in concern as she slipped her fingers through a wayward strand of her dark mane. After greeting her briefly, I followed her down the hall to her office.

  Nothing was a surprise. The house on the bay, the cabin in Colorado, her three cars, her savings, and her insurance payout were all willed to me. My mother was meticulous with details. She planned out and paid for her funeral, leaving me with no other task but to buy her dress and show up.

  “...and five percent share in Harvest Enterprises—”

  “Wait,” I interrupted Mrs. Lepore. “My mother co-owned that company. She built that company. She had at least a twenty-five percent majority stake. Why am I only getting five percent?”

  “Well, naturally, she didn’t think you wanted to sit on the board, so—”

  “She gave it to someone else? Who?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  My mind raced around thoughts of betrayal. “She wouldn’t do this to me. Not after—NO!” I stood up and stormed out.

  While marching down the hall, I churned out speculative ideas. The fact that my mother’s lawyer was in the midst of a meeting with Eric bothered me. Though nothing would pen him as the beneficiary of the shares, numerous circumstances didn't sit right with me. There’s no way Eric agreed to our arrangement because he wanted to have sex with me. He could’ve had anyone he wanted, yet, he chose me. The most biting thing of all; he delayed having sex with me. It didn’t make any sense.

  People disappoint you, Nikki. Eric is no different. He’s going to disappoint you, too. They all do.

  I made a beeline to Mr. Eubanks’s office. It seemed he and Eric were finished, because Eric was walking back towards me. I ran into him, literally. “Nik?”

  “I’m onto you.”

  “As in….you’ve discovered my secret identity?” he queried with a toothy smile.

  “If it’s a money grubbing jerk who wants my deceased mother’s company...then yes. I never believed you were a doctor….especially not in oncology. What were you before? A con man?”

  He felt my forehead. “After your appointment, let’s get you home and in bed. I’ll order in.”

  I shoved his arms away. “Don’t treat me like a psych ward patient. I’m not crazy. What did Mr. Eubanks want with you? What did my mother’s lawyer want to talk to you about?”

  “I have conservatorship over my roommate’s trust. I was with Mr. Eubanks to rework the monthly limit.”

  “What?” I blinked, suddenly thrown for a mind twister.

  “She’s more than just my roommate. I’m…taking care of her.”

  “Why? Is she somehow related to you? If she is, why would you need to take care of her if your parents are...still alive
?”

  His expression held firm as he clenched his jaw. “Wrong.”

  “But your profile said they’ve been married for forty-five years.”

  “Profile? Have you been…cyber-stalking me, Nikki?”

  “You’ve been stalking me, so…” I shrugged.

  “You must’ve missed the part where it said they would’ve been married forty-five years to the day, if they were still alive.”

  “Oh,” I said in a slightly deflated tone. After noticing my loud tirade called unwanted attention, I toned down my anger. “What happened to them?”

  He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me inside Mr. Eubanks’s office. Eric asked Mr. Eubanks for privacy, who in turn left us alone inside his office.

  Eric sat on the edge of the desk, clinging to the glass overhang with an almost white-knuckle intensity. His eyes darted up to mine, as he seemed to teeter between anger and sadness. “Tell me you knew that. Because I could’ve sworn I told you, or at least hinted at the fact that my uncle raised me.”

  “It must’ve…slipped my mind,” I offered apologetically.

  His stance immediately softened. “You’ve been through so much.” He slipped off the desk. Clasping my head in his hands, he titled my head up. He ducked down almost until his lips were a mere centimeter from my face. “Let’s just get this day over with and go home,” he said in a whisper. “I took time off to spend with you, we should make good on it. If you need me to take off more time, I will. However long you need me for. To be honest, I don’t think I could leave you with the way things are going. I don’t think you could handle being alone.”

  “Miss Givens.” Mrs. Lepore ducked her head inside Mr. Eubanks’s office without knocking. “Please, return to my office. You have paperwork to sign.”

  I shook my head, like I was trying to wake out of a dream.

  “Miss Givens?” Mrs. Lepore pressed.

  “I just want to go home. I don’t want to do this now.”

  Eric nodded. “And we will after your appointment.” He looked at Mrs. Lepore. “Messenger the papers to her address.”

  Mrs. Lepore regarded him with impatience. “They have to be signed in front of a notary.”

  “Got it,” Eric dismissed her and put his arm over my shoulders as he guided me back to the elevator lobby.

  I gasped and slapped my palm across my forehead. “I’m supposed to meet someone at the coffee shop on Water Street. He said he’d be there until I got there. Knowing him, he really will stay there until I show up.”

  “Him?” Eric asked with a bass heavy tone and lowered brows.

  “Yes, him. Not really a friend. Not really anyone. Just someone I used to know.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You’ll spook him with your—” I fingered his tie.

  “Then, I’ll take you there and wait until you’re done.”

  “Eric—“

  He abruptly put a finger to my lips. “I’ll take you there and wait until you’re done,” he said with finality.

  My appointment went on without a hitch. I was given birth control and an immediate contraception method. Clean bill of health, as expected. With only two lovers in my life with religious protection, it wasn’t a surprise.

  Trent sat in the corner of the coffee shop with a hoodie pulled over his head. His dark green eyes continuously darted out of the coffee shop window. He waved me over when he spotted me. “Hey, be a peach and get me an espresso,” he said before I could fully sit down.

  I rolled my eyes and went back in line, buying an espresso for him and a plain black coffee for myself. Approaching his table, I slid his mug over to him, and took a seat.

  He clutched the large ceramic mug, like it was a precious gem, and stared at it. “You used to like espressos, too—‘til someone fucked up your taste in coffee.” His eyeliner was smudged underneath his eyes and there was dirt underneath his nails as black as his chipped nail polish.

  “You don’t look well. You look like you’re next in line to be six feet under,” I said.

  “You look like shit, too. What are you, like ninety pounds now? Hey, thought your mother wanted to be cremated.”

  “Why would you say that like you knew her? My mother had a thing about being burned alive. She didn’t want to be burned in death.” I took a sip of my bitter, burnt coffee and made a sour face. “Why am I here, Trent?”

  “I—” he started to sob.

  I immediately remembered why I could only take him in very small doses. His overemotional nature added to the awkwardness of the first time we tried to have sex. He constantly asked if he was hurting me every two seconds. It ranked as one of the worst two minutes of sex I’d ever had.

  “I need a place to stay.”

  “I knew that this was what it was about,” I grumbled. “Trent, what did I tell you?”

  “I know your mom gave you a few houses. Let me stay in one.”

  “She gave me two. I’m not going to let you stay in one of my mother’s homes, so you can wreck it like you did your parents’ guest house.”

  “That was an accident. If I can’t use you, I have no one.”

  I took in a deep breath and picked up my phone.

  “What are you doing? Are you calling The Center? Don’t call The Center. I can’t stay there.”

  “Because you’re too good for it?”

  “Because they kicked me out.”

  “For?”

  “I gave a guy some brain to get a score.”

  I hunched over the table and repeatedly hit my forehead on the surface. “I have to go,” I moaned loudly into my lap. He wasn’t going to succeed in bringing me back into his vortex of disaster. Not today. Not again. Not ever again. I didn’t need it. Surely, if I needed someone to make me feel worse about myself and my situation, Trent would be the one to call upon.

  “I’ll beg. I’ll do anything. Please. I’m living on the street.”

  “I might have an option for that.” Startling both Trent and I, Eric stood over the table. He took a chair from one of the other tables and joined my not-so-good friend and me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Trent asked through gritted teeth.

  Before I could stop Eric from answering, he said, “Eric, Nikki’s boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?” Trent asked incredulously as his eyes widened. “You have a boyfriend? No.” He shook his head profusely as he clutched it. “I’m going to fucking kill myself!” He rushed out, forgetting his barely touched five dollar espresso.

  I moved to follow.

  Eric grabbed my arm. “If you really want to help him, I can get him help. Following him is only going to make things worse for the both of you.”

  “You don’t know him to know that.”

  “I’m familiar with bipolar disorder—very familiar.” He firmed his hold as he suddenly turned on the phlegmatic persona. “Let him go.” His demand rang strong, reminding me of our agreement through three simple words.

  I didn’t know the rules would extend to who I could and couldn’t see.

  I gave in, because I knew Trent. I gave in, because after my mother, the fight I had left inside me was all but dead.

  Besides, I knew how Trent worked. I’d see him again very soon.

  The slamming of a car door startled Maisha and me at the same time. She did a low short bark as her ears perked up. She jumped on the bed and tried to sit on my lap.

  I attempted to push her off me, but my hands and feet felt numb. My body was covered in sweat. I felt jittery and restless. I felt like I was going through…withdrawal. I couldn’t remember how or when I got into my bed. Last I remembered, I was watching a brain-sucking horror movie while Eric ordered takeout.

  I did a double take, noticing Eric was sleeping next to me. I couldn’t remember how he got there either.

  I slipped out of bed with a monstrous headache. I immediately went to the bathroom to expel the sick feeling from my stomach. With my stomach empty and my mouth rinsed out, I moved back to my bedroom
window to see what the commotion outside was about.

  Estelle and her boyfriend were arguing in the middle of the street…again. She continuously lunged at Preston, pushing him around while he tried to dodge her blows.

  While in her dressing gown, Mrs. Hobbins marched down her drive. She threatened to call the cops, but it didn’t seem to faze either one of them.

  “Back in bed, Nik.” I jumped at Eric’s booming voice as he slipped his arms around my waist.

  “Can’t sleep anymore. Feel…sick.” I flourished my hand towards the window. “Don’t you need to do something?”

  “It’s their form of foreplay.”

  She grabbed his keys and attempted to stab Preston in the face with them.

  “She’s really going to hurt him,” I fretted.

  She succeeded, and in a flash, he backhanded her so hard she fell onto the hood of the car. I think she either broke her nose, or knocked out a tooth, because copious amounts of blood covered the lower half of her face.

  “Is that foreplay, too?” I asked.

  I turned back, but Eric was out the door, pulling a shirt on as he disappeared down the hall. “Stay in the house and don’t call anyone,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  Maisha snarled and barked as she clawed at the window. I grabbed her collar and went downstairs.

  I left her in the foyer as I went outside, leaving her to excitedly bark just behind the door. In just my T-shirt, tap shorts, and rubber soled sock shoes, I remained on the front doorstep and watched.

  As Eric approached, the boyfriend immediately threw his arms up, and began to retreat. I couldn’t hear everything that was said as the two men exchanged words, but I did catch the word ‘please’ from Preston.

  Eric grabbed him by the back of the neck and made him face-plant onto the hood of the car repeatedly. When he let Preston go, he fell to the ground chanting an apology while profusely bleeding from the nose and mouth. Eric forced him to stand and exchanged hushed words with him, before letting him go. Preston returned to his car and burned rubber as he sped down the road.