The Solemn Vow

by Bree Dahlia

  “I didn’t mean to bombard you with so many texts yesterday, but I was worried. I’ll always care. More than you can know.”

  I disagree. Based on what I’ve experienced so far, I do know. I’d have to be devoid of feelings not to.

  “I’d like to see my design again.” I pull away from him and look up. “On your arm.”

  He rolls up his sleeve, and this time I show no restraint. I touch his skin, tracing the ink with my fingers, marveling at the creation that’s both mine and his.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I say. “I still can’t believe it.”

  I press deeper into the muscle, tracing the heart. In awe, I partially circle my other hand around his bicep and stroke the rich colors of the dragon’s scales. He sucks in a breath, and at first I fear I’m hurting him until I realize how ridiculous that is.

  “You should stop,” he says in a voice that indicates the opposite. I respect his words anyway, letting my arms drop to my side.

  “I didn’t mean to get carried away.” My gaze travels the length of his body. Now I suck in a breath. Everywhere I look is so… hard.

  “You didn’t.” He takes my hand in his, stroking my palm with his thumb. “I did. I can’t help reacting to you.”

  I feel the same. “We can go back to me crying all over you while you console me.”

  He kisses the top of my head again, and I’m drawn back into him, burying against his chest. But this time I don’t shed any tears.

  “You feel so good, Maddie.” I want to respond, but I’m vibrating too fast. “God, I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

  He’s ticking all my boxes. Touch, sight, scent, voice, affection—they’ve all been activated. The only thing left is taste.

  I breathe him in through his shirt, practically feeling his bare skin on my tongue. His low moan spirals me deeper.

  “I can’t help reacting to you either.”

  I tilt my head up to see his hooded eyes, as if my mere presence has turned him on something fierce. It hits straight to my heart, spreading quickly outward. He looks exactly how I feel.

  His mouth crashes to mine, and then he’s crushing me everywhere. I’m swallowed up by his kiss, his body, his desire. It’s a stark contrast to that accidental brush of his lips on the trail. This is need, pure and intentional.

  I finally sense his taste as his tongue circles mine, and I am gone. Gone, gone, gone. It’s too intoxicating to imagine it ending. I want the beginning to go on forever, to build and build but never die.

  He’s the one to break free, and I draw in a breath. I’m greedy for him to come back. I’ve missed this too much to go without. Missed him.

  He rests his forehead on mine, panting just as I am. So much electricity between us. So much connection. Time and space has met its match.

  Our hearts beat in a frenzied tune as we watch each other, feeling the other out.

  “We swore that would never happen again,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. But as soon as it’s out and hovering in the air, its meaning is lost in a rush of raw emotion. My body craves him.

  “I know.”

  He sweeps me up, and I wrap around him, clinging desperately as if he were my last chance at experiencing this all-consuming need ever again.

  His mouth breathes another round of life into me as he carries me out of the room, igniting my skin as he trails down the side of my neck. I know where we’re heading and how crucial this moment is. The moment we can never return from. There’s still time to turn back, but to do so feels like a horrible injustice.

  I’m lowered to his bed, his arms just as reluctant to let me go. We tear at each other’s clothes, never breaking contact. It’s as if the moment we do, it’ll cease being real.

  “God, Maddie….” He draws my nipple into his mouth, the wet heat causing my back to arch and my hips to writhe. His tongue slides down my breast toward my belly. “I’ve never stopped dreaming of having you again.” He teases between my spread thighs. “All of you.”

  I rise to meet him as if we’re not close enough, as if we’ll never be close enough until he’s devoured me from the inside out.

  My moans echo in my ears. I’m not holding anything back. For the way he’s expertly navigating my body, he deserves it. There’s no fumbling or guessing; he remembers exactly what I need to scream loud.

  “Fuck.” The word escapes my mouth when he curves his fingers inside. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He goes right there. The spot that’s swollen and throbbing and ready to explode all over his hand.

  I catch sight of his cock, and that’s what blasts me higher. As beautiful as the rest of him, steely and thick. His devouring mouth can’t contain the rapid sounds leaving my throat as he brings me there. I shatter beneath his touch, and a string of curses spills from him, proving how tightly his pleasure is entwined with mine.

  “I need you to be sure,” he says as I’m drifting down. I know what’s next, and I know I want it. I’m soft and aching and so, so ready. “Once it happens, we can’t go back.”

  “I’m sure,” I whisper, a spark of memory overtaking me.

  “No regrets?”

  “No regrets.”

  He cages me in muscle from above before sliding inside. His strength fills me deeply until my eyes fly back and then close. It’s like our first time all over again. It felt right then, and it feels right now.

  “I need you to come hard for me again.”

  “Yes.” The likelihood of that happening is as great as the flow of blood through my veins.

  He grasps me tighter, angling his hips until I see stars behind my lids. I almost can’t handle the intensity of his complete control over my body, my orgasms, my sanity. I’m breaking open.

  “Come,” he tells me, and I do.

  I burst apart.

  For Jake.

  Fifteen

  Cain

  I tear at the slats, bits of plaster and wooden shards collecting underneath my nails. They stab into me, digging deep enough to spill blood. My hands are cut and swollen from using them as a tool, but I’m not stopping now.

  An unexplained drive urges me on. It’s compelling enough to keep me going until I find answers. For weeks, I’ve been drawn here with no explanation why. It’s all I can think about. It consumes me. There’s something about this section of the house that doesn’t belong. It shouldn’t be allowed to stand.

  As I get closer, the cause of my obsession comes into view. A small door resided behind these walls before it was heavily covered over. I scan my brain, trying to recall if this room had ever looked any different, but I draw a blank.

  I stomp through the remaining inch-long slats now that the plaster is crumbled all over the ground, kicking the wood aside and crushing the pieces under my boot. For their age, they’re remarkably well preserved.

  The door is still fully intact, and I pull at the iron handle. It opens to a squared area not more than three feet on each side, appearing to be a storage space at some point. I brush away the debris and squat down.

  It’s anticlimactic. The house led me to nothing more than an empty cubby hole and a shit load of mess to clean up. My staunch determination has left me flat and confused as all fuck.

  I’m about to leave and tend to my ripped-up hands when something shiny catches my eye. I peer inside the dim space, wishing my flashlight were handy when I notice an object tucked into a slotted slab in the wall. I reach in and grab something metal. I inch closer and tug it out, knocking a piece of it to the side.

  A toy truck? I pick up the fallen wheel and reattach it to the axle, then blow at the dirty red frame, dusting it off, turning it over in my palm.

  Wait. It’s not just a truck—it’s my truck. I remember it now. I played with this thing for hours. Why is it jammed into a hidden opening I didn’t even know existed?

  I slide back in as best as possible to check for anything else I might discover. It’s too dark to see shit with the weak bulbs in these rooms. If the damn electrical system didn’t need
an overhaul, I could use a higher watt. I’ll need to get my flashlight. But before I do, I wedge in deeper and run my hands over the walls. If I curl up just so, I can almost fit my entire body inside….

  Twenty-three years earlier

  The blue one is my favorite. But it’s broken, so now it’s the red one. I race it into the wall and watch it crash. It won’t break apart that way. Not like when Uncle throws it.

  I hear footsteps. Uh-oh. I hope they’re Auntie’s.

  I scoot down the long floor on my knees and push my truck. It’s a good road and can go real fast. I wish I had my blue one to play with too. It’s bigger and crashes harder.

  “What did I tell you?” I look up and don’t let my truck go. He sticks out his hand. “Give that to me.”

  I yell a “No!” inside my head. “I want Auntie.”

  “Are you disrespecting me, boy?” I don’t know but I shake my head anyway. “I told you if I caught you playing in here one more time, there’d be consequences. Now, give me the damn toy or you’ll be sorry.”

  What are conseaenses? I squeeze it so hard. If I hide it in my lap, he won’t see it and maybe he’ll go away. He’s mean. He doesn’t let me play anywhere.

  He pulls it from me and I hold on real tight. “No,” I scream. I didn’t hide it good.

  “You spoiled brat.” He pulls hard and takes it away. “Must be nice not to have an ounce of responsibility. All you do is play around here. It’s time you start earning your keep.”

  “I want Auntie.” My hands hurt. I need a Band-Aid.

  “I want a lot of things too, boy, and none of them involved you.”

  I hold out my arms. Maybe he’ll give it back to me now. Maybe he won’t break this one.

  He kicks the wall and I jump. “You’re old enough to clean out the stove in the basement. No dinner till it’s done.”

  I shake my head harder than before. I’m scared of the basement. I sniffle but I don’t cry. That’s for babies.

  “Are you telling me no?” I can’t look. He’s scarier than the basement. “Answer me!”

  I peek and his face is red like my truck. I don’t want to talk. He can’t make me.

  “Been nothing but trouble since you came here.” His boots are loud. It looks like he’s marching. I’m happy he’s leaving, but he has my truck. He opens the little door and throws it inside. I run to get it. “You’re a good-fer-nothing bastard from a good-fer-nothing mother.”

  I crawl into the dark place and yelp. My knee bangs Auntie’s flower pots and I rub it. Uncle stomps my truck and the wheel falls off. No! It’s my last one.

  “Time to make some changes around here.” He kicks again and my truck crashes to the wall. It’s not a good crash. My face is wet and I wipe it.

  He comes closer and I scoot back. He smells funny. “Aw, is da widdle baby cwying?”

  “I am not a baby!” I curl up. “I hate you!”

  “Just for that, you can stay in there the rest of the night. Hell, sleep there for all I care. Maybe it’ll toughen you up, teach you some respect.”

  He closes the door with a bang, and I make my legs straight and kick. It won’t open. He didn’t take my truck, but I don’t want it anymore. It’s so dark.

  “Auntie!” I yell and make my hands punch hard. Auntie will open the door. She’s nice. But she’d be more nice if she made Uncle go away.

  I shake. But I’m not afraid. I am not a baby. I curl back up and close my eyes. I’m not scared. I rock. Not scared, not scared, not scared. I rock faster. I shake harder and sniffle. My tummy hurts. I feel wet. But I’m not a baby.

  I am not afraid….

  Sixteen

  I had sex with another man. I cheated on my husband. I committed an unforgivable sin. I’m blinded by two more explosive orgasms before those realizations fully sink in.

  Jake holds me against him during the aftermath while I wait for the guilt to fester and change into remorse, gnawing away at my insides until I’m a pitted shell. That doesn’t happen.

  But after the connection we shared, the joining of so much more than just bodies, there is one feeling I can’t escape.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, brushing the hair from my forehead and making eye contact. There’s so much affection in his expression I almost need to look away.

  “Yes.” I can say it in all honesty because I feel that Jake is the one I’ve been cheating on all these years. “Yes,” I repeat. “I am now.”

  He smiles, flooding me with even more warmth. If it were just the two of us, I’d bask in it all day. But life just got a fuckton more complicated.

  “I’m such an idiot for ever letting you go.”

  “Please, let’s not bring that up.” I can’t think about the what-might-have-beens, not when I need to deal with the current reality weighing me down. “I should go.”

  He runs his knuckles over my cheek. “I don’t want you to.”

  “I don’t want to either.”

  He gives me a tender kiss, and I’m tempted to say screw it. Cain doesn’t care if I’m home or not, unless he needs someone to be his verbal punching bag.

  “Then don’t.”

  I slip from his arms before I can’t anymore. “It’s not that simple. I’m married, and so are you.” Separated.

  As I scoot from the bed and collect my clothes, I’m bombarded with emotions: jealousy, insecurity, desperation. They pile on fast and furious, and I’m reeling, not sure how to cope.

  He’ll be divorced soon, and I… won’t.

  He leans over and grabs my wrist as I’m pulling up my shorts. My eyes flick up to his tattoo. “Talk to me here. What’s going on? You said you were okay.”

  “I am.” To an extent. Upcoming divorce or not, Reyna’s still legally his wife, and I’m… not. I’m like a fish on the shore, flip-flopping all over the place, trying to regain my equilibrium. “It’s just easier for you right now. You’re separated, living at your own place.” I gently remove his hand and finish getting dressed. “That’s not the case for me.”

  “Maddie, nothing about this is easier for me.”

  It’s next to impossible to trade a warm bed for a cold house, but I do. I kiss him goodbye, get into my car, and leave. My heart is a rubber band, stretching painfully thin the farther I get from Jake. The closer I get to Cain.

  When I pull into my driveway, I expect it to snap at any moment. I’ve only be gone a few hours, but those few hours changed everything.

  I slowly creak open the front door, hoping Cain will be locked away for the rest of the day. I can’t face him. Not because of my conscience but because he’s not Jake. The thought worries me, challenging my integrity. How can I be so casual about infidelity?

  As I pad through the foyer, I hear a garbled noise. It’s odd and out of place, considering the house special is loud bitching.

  I switch directions and investigate, following the sound into the hall. I swear, if it’s coming from the basement, I’m hightailing it out of here.

  It’s not. The noise increases as I near the outer parlor. It almost sounds like… sobbing?

  “Cain?” I push open the door and run to him. He’s curled up on the floor. Oh my God. My first impression is that he’s seriously hurt. “Cain, talk to me.”

  His hands are crusted with blood and swollen as if he was either punching or clawing his way out of something. He’s crying. Hard. Holy shit, I never see him cry. My God, why isn’t he responding to me?

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders to still him. “Cain, what happened? Look at me. Are you hurt?”

  He finally blinks up at me, and I’m chilled to the marrow. The haunting look in his dark eyes is reminiscent of a frightened child.

  “I’m so sorry, Maddie.”

  “For what, Cain? What happened?” Damn it. I need answers here.

  “I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you.” The tears pour down his face.

  Nausea billows up. He’s scaring the shit out of me. Does he have a head injury?


  “Please talk to me. I need to know what happened. Was there an accident?”

  I cradle him while taking in the chaos around me, underneath me. There are chunks of wall on the ground covered with what appears to be more of his blood. Splintered boards scattered in heaps of dust. Gaping holes everywhere. It’s like a small bomb detonated.

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  I bring him closer to me, and he seems content with that, so I hold tighter, sitting in a pile of plaster. My brain is going to self-destruct. When did the room get like this? I’ve avoided it for a while now. It could’ve been destroyed for weeks. It could’ve all happened today.

  But I do know the cuts on his hands are new. He didn’t have them last night. “We need to get your hands cleaned up.”

  “They’re fine.” At least his sobs are lessening.

  “No, they’re not. Why’d you tear this room apart?”

  I hope for a coherent explanation when—wait a minute. I take a better look at the busted-up wall we’re beside. Is that a door? I peer closer to discover it’s not a hole after all but a crawl space. Where the hell did that come from?

  “What’s not fine is the way I treated you.” I start to wonder if he was so upset that he trashed the place. Oh my God, I’m going to be sick. Does he know I slept with Jake? “I treated you like garbage, Maddie. I was horrible, the things I did… I don’t expect you to forgive me because I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Shhh. Let’s just get you away from here and cleaned up, okay?” I can get my explanation later. “Come with me and let me help you.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” His eyes skewer me. “I’m not even good enough to return the favor. I can’t even take care of my own wife.”

  “Please, Cain. You can help me by getting out of here.”

  I haul him up, brushing flakes off the both of us. He clings to me like I’m his life raft in a sea of rubble. Debris crunches underneath our feet as we walk out. What a frigging mess. On all fronts.