A Promise Made (Promise #2)

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A Promise Made (Promise #2) Page 22

by Anissa Garcia


  The doorbell caught me by surprise, and my stomach fluttered. Hope filled in me that it was Josh. That he’d come over and try to fight for me so I wouldn’t have to buckle up and apologize. Then again, that would be the easy way out. I knew I owed him an apology. A huge one.

  “Cameron.” I was surprised at the sight of my ex-boss standing on my porch. The glossy look over his dark eyes made my stomach plummet. “What are you doing here?” I held myself close to the door and tried to leave little space, however, nothing prepared me for the blunt force he used when he knocked it back with his foot.

  “No invite? Guess I’ll have to let myself in.”

  A chill ran down my spine as he marched toward me. I walked backward hoping I could get to my phone, the alarm, something. I had a horrible feeling this wasn’t going to end well. “How do you know where I live?” I asked, my voice trying to stay stable.

  “You took my job, Marla. You threw me under the bus. I told you as a team we’d be great together, but no, you just had to go and talk to my Dad. Well, you got what you wanted. I’m out.” His breathing increased, his hair and clothing were disheveled, and I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  I put my hands out as he moved closer to me, anger radiating from him. “I…Cameron, I’m sorry this is happening to you, but you’ll find it’s for the best.”

  “For the best? Fuck you! I tried to get close to you. I asked you out, brought you coffee, tried to be perfect for you. I hoped you’d let me be the one to help you out after your little purse-snatching crisis. I wanted to care for you, be everything for you. You kept rejecting me. I learned everything I could about you so you would appreciate me. Nothing I ever did was good enough. You would never come to me!”

  His voice echoed through the house. It only took me a brief second to realize what was going on. “Was that you in the parking garage? Did you try to mug me?”

  “I wanted your fucking phone and keys!” he yelled. “I wanted in your life.”

  “You were in my home?”

  “I got your keys from your office when you weren’t looking, made a copy so I could be near you. I took my time. I even dressed nicely like from those magazines you read. I saw the books you read, the things you wore, everything to be near you. But you kept pushing me away. I just wanted to be with you.”

  Tears began to creep up as I realized I was in more trouble than I ever imagined. This couldn’t be. How could he do this? My mind flashed over all the things that added up to a completed puzzle. “The slashed tires? That was you too.” He glared at me with those vacant eyes. “Why?”

  “You pissed me the fuck off, bitch!” He cornered me to the wall and hit it with his fist. I yelped in fright, cowering from him. “The tires were when I saw you with that asshole, going on your stupid exercise date to that empty gym. Don’t think I didn’t see you rolling around on the floor with that idiot. I followed you all the time.”

  I tried to keep calm. Asking him questions seemed to keep him talking, and if he was talking, he wouldn’t be attacking. I just hoped it wouldn’t get to that. I already knew he was irrational, the look in his eyes said it all. “Breaking into my house for my laptop and my computer at work? What was that for?”

  He grabbed my face with one hand, squeezing my cheeks hard, holding me still forcing me to look at him. “You pushed me into a corner and gave me no other choice. I was starting to lose my dad’s trust. I needed to get whatever information I could on you, your clients, your ideas. I wanted to do right by him, but you just had to go and ruin it for me. You got me fired, you whore,” he said through gritted teeth. In one fast motion I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. His hands were locked around my throat as he pushed me against the wall. “You didn’t give me anything to work with!”

  I scrambled my hands around his wrists, attempting to pull them off as my airway became restricted. My legs tried to kick him, but he was against me, too close, and I had no space. “Why didn’t you just comply with me? Why didn’t you just go out with me? We could’ve made the company big together, but you’ve fucked it all up!”

  I gasped for air, my face felt flushed, my windpipe compressed as I tirelessly tried to hit his arms. Everything was fuzzy, like I was out of my body. At any moment I was about to fade, to disappear into nothing. Finally, I reached forward and scratched him, aiming for his eyes and missing. “Fuck!” he yelled and backed off. I barely had time to catch my breath when his hand went flying across my cheek. “You bitch!”

  I lost my balance and fell on the floor, everything becoming a blur as he straddled me. I felt another slap against my face. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to scream, the hoarse sound unfamiliar. I hooked myself onto him, getting close as I twisted, lifting up his shirt to his neck and grabbing hold of it. My foot pushed on his thigh, and I pulled out from under him using the technique Josh had taught me. It helped, but only for a moment as he clutched his hand around my ankle and jerked me back.

  My flailing didn’t stop him and he was on me again, this time with a switchblade in his hand. “I’m going to slice you if you don’t stay still!” I closed my eyes, tears dripping down my face as I tried to fight with everything I had. In an instant, relief came and pulled him away from me. I thought it was a dream, or perhaps I had already died, but Josh was there, knocking Cameron’s face with his fist. Once, twice, again, over and over. Blood splattered, bones cracked as Cameron’s curled fist slacked and the knife rested in his open palm.

  “Josh, stop!” His eyes were feral as he continued to pummel Cameron’s face. He swapped up with the other fist, taking turns, but never yielding. “Stop it!” I cried, lifting myself up, trying to catch my balance. I wasn’t sure if he could hear me from the soreness of my voice. He grabbed Cameron by his hair and knocked his head down on the floor. “Stop, please! Stop!”

  I was afraid he was going to kill him as he continued in a fit of rage. I flung my arms to his, trying to hold him back. Breathless, his wide eyes locked on mine, then he glanced at Cameron, as though whatever trance he was in had vanished.

  “Are you okay? Are you alright?” he asked, violent streams of air escaping his lips as he lifted himself off of Cameron’s unconscious body.

  “Yes,” I said. Both of us were swaying as if the room was spinning. “You came back for me,” I cried softly.

  He fell back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting. He was trying to catch his breath, but shock was evident as he stared at Cameron. Blood covered his fists, his hands trembled as he rested them against his propped knees. Tears slid down his face as he stared at the limp body in front of us.

  “You came back,” I whispered, sidling up next to him. I put my hand on his chest, over his heart, and his shoulders began to shake up and down. Nothing escaped his open mouth, but his face was twisted in pain as I slowly cupped his cheeks.

  I realized he was the one that needed the consoling. I would be alright, but something had deeply affected my beautiful man. He leaned his head against my chest as I wrapped him in my arms. Only then had my protector let out an agonizing wail and clung onto me tightly. I was the rock he hung onto at the edge of a cliff.

  We both shivered in each other’s embrace, letting out our pain, finding security in one another. I sniffled and pulled away, looking into his splotchy eyes. “We need to call the police,” I whispered.

  “I pressed the panic button on the alarm. They’ll be here,” he struggled through thick tears.

  I attempted to get up but he held me to him. “Don’t move. Stay here with me.” His eyes roamed my face, his fingertips glided gently over my cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, love.” Tears streamed down our faces. “How hurt are you?”

  “I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” I wondered what would have happened had he not been here. But I couldn’t dwell on it. The important thing was he had come for me. A whimper released from the back of my sore throat. “I’m more worried about you, to be honest.” I trailed my hand through his hair.

  A small shudder
ran through him as he kept his eyes on Cameron. “Just expelling an old demon,” he muttered, his hand clutching onto his necklace like a lifeline.

  The police burst through the partially open door. Shouts of command were given as Marla and I held our hands in the air. They called an EMS and took Cameron to the hospital. We went to the station to give statements, but I refused to go home until Marla was checked out for her neck and the bruising she obtained on her face. She was shaken up, but not more than myself. I answered Officer Ramos’s questions effectively and to the point.

  It wasn’t until hours later that we got word that Cameron Gilles had restraining orders. Several were from ex-girlfriends who claimed him abusive and violent with stalker tendencies. There was a long list of offenses he had committed. The fact that he had targeted Marla was not unusual, but I hated that she had dealt with it at all. She was certain Roger had no idea, as the father and son weren’t very close to begin with.

  I entered her house first, she followed behind me, and we studied the area before us. Furniture was askew, and bits of blood was splattered on the wall. Marla snuggled by my arm and I settled her beside me. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ll clean tomorrow.”

  “We can’t touch this until the police are done, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead and felt her body tremble. “Stay at my house tonight. Zach has Hank. It’ll be quiet, and you can rest until they call you from the station.”

  She hesitated before complying with a nod. She packed an overnight bag and we left the house. I wondered how torturous it would be to carry around this trauma. Yet, for all the worrying I did over her, I had a slight suspicion she was stronger than I could ever be.

  We made our way inside and showered together. I took my time with her, washing her hair and drying her off after. I set an ice pack for her cheek as she climbed into bed. “You’re staying with me, right?”

  I saw her eyes glisten and I nodded, scooting into bed beside her. We were silent. Our breathing took up the tense air around us. “Josh?”

  “My father killed my mother,” I blurted. I said the hardest part first. The evil of the whole situation. But like venom from a snakebite, it had to be drawn out, and this was the way to do it.

  Marla propped her head on her hand, her elbow holding her up as she peered down on me. She looked like an angel in the moonlight that broke between the blinds. She touched the two tattoos she had been instantly drawn toward. How she knew they were the most important to me, I had no clue.

  “What happened?” her tender voice asked.

  I exhaled. “My father was a lousy drunk. Mum was a housewife, a loving woman. She taught me about the Catholic faith as I grew up. Dad wasn’t much into it. He was physically violent once in a blue moon, but we never knew when it would strike. And she would never have left him. Ever.”

  I glanced to see Marla patiently waiting for me to continue. She wouldn’t push, and certainly wouldn’t judge. I wondered why I had taken so long to tell her.

  “Did he ever hit you?”

  “When I was younger, my Mum protected me and took the brunt of it. I tried to work out, get strong, and I hoped to fight back when the next time came around. He had been good for a while though. It had been years without a violent incident.” Flashes of my old man with a pipe in his hand came back to me, memories that disgusted me the way he hit her, his high-pitched cackles resounding. I shivered recalling the time he had threatened to throw my mother down the stairs and make it look like an accident. I would cower in the corner, a little boy, crying, alone and scared, praying the Our Father. Praying to God to get me out of the situation. To save my mother and me. To be strong enough when I grew up to get us both the hell out of there. I had been too late. “I was older, I thought he was more aware of me being able to fight back.”

  “Until?”

  I didn’t want to talk about this. Years of having it buried made it hard to dig up, even to tell the woman I loved. Reliving it only made me feel a victim, despite the fact that I was strong now. I had gotten past it. It hadn’t been my fault. Marla’s strength gave me the drive to continue. “I had just turned eighteen the month before. I was out late celebrating with some mates. First day I had off in weeks from working. My father was upset because I had been out drinking, but I ignored his raving. I went upstairs and told him to fuck off.”

  I felt her kiss my shoulder and I exhaled, realizing I had been holding everything in for far too long. “I heard a cry, and I made my way downstairs. My mother had been trying to stop him from going at me with a hammer.”

  Marla gasped, water filling up her eyes. “He hit her with a hammer?”

  I shook my head, “No, she had snatched it from him before he could use it. He fumbled toward her and knocked her down. He was hurting her the way…”

  “The way Cameron was hurting me?”

  “He was worse, but yes, similar.” I tried to continue, tried to find the strength and she grabbed my hand as if she knew. “He was choking her. I ran over, jumped on him so he’d stop. I tried pulling him off, but I couldn’t. He threw me back. I flew against the wall and hit my head. I couldn’t…” I cleared my throat, trying to get the words out past the tears that began to fall. “I couldn’t see straight. I was out of it. I tried to do something, but my head was fuzzy. My attempts to go at him failed. In one lunge, he knocked me out.”

  Her hand rested on my heart and when she kissed it, I felt lucky to have her near. I wondered if I even deserved her, she was perfection. Everything I needed, everything I would cherish was in my arms. She gave me the ability to talk about this when I hadn’t told anyone else. Not a single soul knew of the awful tragedy my father had brought upon me.

  “What happened when you woke? Was your father there?”

  “He was gone. I came to and I saw her there bloodied, purple, and mangled. Her eyes were bulged out, bloodshot, mouth open… she was unrecognizable.” I couldn’t hold back, my chest feeling a pressure, but I continued despite the pain. “Her face was swollen, everything about her was wrong. She wasn’t my mother—she was a body. She wasn’t a soul—she was just a vessel. It didn’t stop me from hugging her, praying to God, begging Him to bring her back.”

  “I’m so sorry, Josh.” She understood.

  I wiped my tears with my palms as Marla cried with me, for me, that lost little boy. “I called the police. They found my father a few blocks away, in one of the pubs nearby. He didn’t give a shit what he did. He got life in prison. I haven’t had a thing to do with him since.”

  “I can’t imagine you’d want to.”

  I rested my cheek against her hair, feeling it soft against me, comforting me. “It took a long time for me to pray again. I was angry. I never got to confront my father, tell him what he did. Remorse never went through him, I don’t think. I hated him for a good while, and I lost my faith.”

  “How did you find it?” Her brown eyes innocently asked, not only for me, but for herself.

  “I spoke out loud one day asking for something I could hold on to. To let me know my mother was looking after me. After that prayer, my neighbors had come over, telling me they found my mother’s favorite necklace with a cross and charm on it. It had fallen when she went to visit. I had looked everywhere for it.”

  “Your mom had visited them recently?” Marla asked curiously.

  I shook my head. “It was over a year after she passed. I don’t know how they found it, but they had. When I looked at the pendant, it was Saint Maria Goretti. She was a martyr who was assaulted, but she fought back. Her attacker stabbed her and before she died, she forgave him. He went to prison for thirty years, was an unbeliever, until she appeared to him in a dream with flowers. She wanted him in heaven. He changed, converted, and asked for forgiveness. The miracle she produced in his life by forgiving him was what I focused on.”

  Her hand went to the tattoo on my arm. “The flowers were lilies?”

  I whispered, “Yes, they were lilies. I still feel my mum with me.
” I paused, then spoke. “Today felt like I took out all that anger I had for my father on Cameron. I shouldn’t have done it. But it felt so bloody good. Nobody will ever hurt you. Ever. I’d protect you with my life.” I grabbed her hand in mine, linking our fingers together. “I’m sorry if it scared you, and I want you to know that I will never lift a hand to you either. You know that.”

  She nodded, but we stayed silent. I let her go over all the information she didn’t know about me until now. Finally, she spoke quietly. “When I left your house, after I broke things off… I knew it was wrong, what I did. It felt all wrong.”

  “I know,” I barely mumbled, a lump forming in my throat again.

  “You were right. I was scared. I’d been wrong before and…” I looked over at her, she had her eyes closed searching for the proper words. “I couldn’t go through another failure. Then your declarations freaked me out, and I thought there was no way you could be for real. You’re not real, Josh, you’re too perfect.” We both chuckled as tears trickled down her cheeks. “The moment I left I called Grace.”

  My words overlapped hers, “I sat there struggling whether I should go to you. I didn’t want to scare you anymore than I already had, but she texted me three words—Go to her. I knew I had to see you. I’m so glad I went when I did.”

  “Me too. God, me too, Josh.” She embraced me, and although she hadn’t said the words, I knew she felt them. She loved me, she just needed to adjust herself to the idea. I was a patient man, and I’d wait until she was ready. However, I wouldn’t ever hold back how much I loved her. And would spend every day letting her know until she believed she was worthy of that love.

  How could one of the worst days of my life also be one of the best? I grappled with that as I walked toward the door of my best friend’s house. Only a few weeks had passed since I’d been attacked by a crazy lunatic, but saved by a man with a heart of gold. If I had thought Josh’s and my connection was strong before, that didn’t compare to where it was now. Emotionally, we were bound together, our souls braided, our beings entwined. That, however, didn’t stop me from being nervous about the whole forever situation.

 

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