Beautiful Broken Promises

by Kimberly Lauren

  “Pain meds?” I heard Lane whisper. I nodded my head, but decided not to give him anything else. “If you need it, you should take them.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I sat on the edge of the bed, unlaced and removed my shoes, and then stripped off my socks. I hated that I had to sleep in my jeans tonight, but I didn’t have any other clothes. If Lane was sticking around, there was no way in hell I was walking around in my panties.

  “How does she have the bear?”

  “They grabbed it with a few other nonessentials,” I whispered.

  “Why does she call you Mama?” he asked. I knew it was coming, but that didn't mean I wanted to answer.

  “She heard Braden call me that,” I answered simply.

  “Did you try—” he started to ask.

  “Of course. I tried for a very long time for her to call me Raegan. When she finally did, then Braden started calling me by first name. I couldn't have my own son not call me Mama. So I just let her. Years went by and it didn’t seem so bad. Now I realize…”

  “I understand.” I wondered if he actually did, but at least he was letting the matter slide for now.

  Lane stood up and pushed one arm above his head—his uninjured arm, I noticed. His entire body stretched out and I caught a glimpse of a very alluring line of muscles that extended below his waistband. He really was huge. Even when we were at the police station, Lane stood out among all of the officers. He was probably six foot, but it wasn’t his height that made him stand out. It was his body. Holy hell, his body had been sculpted into this gigantic masterpiece. I quickly turned from the tantalizing view.

  When he walked away from the bed and scooped up his bag, I rushed to say, “Don’t make me stick a needle in your eye.”

  He let out a deep chuckle that was way too sexy for my own good. Then I watched as he searched through his bag before setting some pill bottles of his own on top of the dresser close to mine.

  “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” He popped the top of his first bottle and let a few slide into his mouth. I watched the muscles in his throat bob up and down as he swallowed. He stared just like I had at the second one, but he ignored it as well.

  “Pain meds?” I asked mockingly. He grunted in response and I smirked at the fact that we both didn’t seem to trust too easily. I knew I was too afraid of not being of sound mind around him and I wondered if he felt the same way.

  He pulled a few supplies out of his bag and then to my chagrin, he tugged the back collar of his shirt over his head. My mouth blatantly hung open and there was no hope of it closing anytime soon. His body was unreal. Literally, it had to have been some kind of illusion, something straight out of my creative imagination.

  The muscles in his back moved with a raw elegance that I had never thought possible for someone his size. They bulged and flexed with the movement of his good arm. The graceful line of his spine created the perfect symmetry for each side of his well-defined back. The line was a tease that disappeared into his shorts and I let my mind wander with thoughts of what his butt looked like. Probably perfect.

  His skin was smooth and a blank canvas, all except for a little bit of script low on the back of his neck. I couldn’t make it out, but it looked like it fit perfectly, just resting above his shoulder blades.

  He leaned toward the mirror over the chest of drawers and examined the area on top of his shoulder that was covered in white surgical tape and gauze. He began pulling back the tape and I watched the creases in his eyes as he winced. He moved to the other side and tried to pull the tape from there, but I could tell the movement from one arm pulled too much on the other, causing him a significant amount of pain.

  I sighed and walked toward him. Scooping up all of his materials, I made my way to the adjoining room. If I was going to do it, I needed light and I didn’t want to disturb Kate and Braden. He stood there frozen, still leaning toward the mirror and watching me through it. I crossed through the double doors and a few beats later he shadowed behind me.

  I pointed to the chair near the window and went to the bathroom to wash my hands. When I returned, I watched him effortlessly drag the chair in front of the mirror. He seated himself facing the glass, probably so he could watch me in the reflection.

  “Don’t trust me?” I asked, repeating yet another one of his lines back to him.

  “Should I trust you?” he asked gruffly.

  If I could have, I would have dug my fingers so far into his shoulder he wouldn’t even consider saying something like that to me again. Instead, I kept it short and sweet. “I kept your daughter alive for four years. If that’s not trustworthy, I don’t know what is.”

  A harsh breath rushed past his teeth and he closed his eyes, not willing to look at me any longer. Fine, I could deal with that. I grabbed the edges of the tape on his shoulder and quickly yanked it back. I was mindful of his injury, but I could really care less if the skin around it became a little sore.

  “Agggh!!” he yelled, but it was muffled by the fact that he covered his mouth with his good arm. “Okay shit, I deserved that!”

  “Please, stop insinuating that I’m a kidnapper,” I whispered. “I would never...” My eyes became glassy and I stifled the sob in my chest. “I would never put those children in danger. Never.” My last word came out as a harsh bite.

  “Fine...” he grumbled, like a child who had just been reprimanded.

  “Mr. Parker—”

  “Please stop calling me that. I don’t pay you anymore and it’s just weird. Too formal. Besides, you’re not that much younger than me.”

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Twenty-eight. And you’re what… twenty-four?” he returned.

  I nodded and said, “Okay... Lane...” I took a deep breath and thought about the best way to approach this without having to drag it into a prolonged conversation. I really would like to catch some sleep before the morning. “She tricked me. Mrs. Flores. She used my naïvety against me and she did it well. I just assumed she was some overly curious old lady that wanted to talk about a young girl’s life at the park.” I used some of the hand sanitizer he had on the dresser and began to take a good look at his shoulder. “I was an idiot.”

  He hung his head down low for a few long minutes, but I knew he was listening intently. I couldn’t see his facial expression, or tell what he was thinking, so I took the opportunity to get the bandage change out of the way. I let my eyes roam for a moment and noticed the tattoo on his neck again. It simply said, Kate. It was written in a feminine handwriting that should have looked strange on his masculine body, but it didn’t. It was perfect.

  “You shouldn’t have been carrying Kate around. You’ve already pulled a stitch out.” The cut on his shoulder looked angry and red, but it wasn’t any longer than about two inches. It was slender like... a knife. Had he been stabbed?

  “If holding her causes all of them to pull out, I won’t care. Won’t stop me,” he whispered sullenly down into his chest.

  “I didn’t think it would. I’m pretty sure I can hold it together with two pieces of tape anyway.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, indicating he could really care less.

  “Is this a stab wound?” I asked curiously, because I couldn’t ever seem to keep anything in for too long.

  “Yep.”

  “Should I be worried that you get yourself into situations that cause you to get stabbed?” I asked, trying to get him to elaborate.

  “Worried about me or worried about Kate?”

  “Just worried.” I didn’t care to clarify.

  “It won’t happen again. I used to enter these underground fighting matches a couple times a year because I knew that Flores would be there. He was a hardcore gambler, and it was the only way I could figure out how to get close to him. So I learned to fight and showed up. This last one got a little messy.”

  “Did he do it?” I whispered.

  “Might as well have. He told me Kate was dead that night.” The break in his voice
caused me to tremble. “That was worse than anything a knife could do.”

  “Oh, Lane…”

  I couldn’t imagine hearing something like that. My heart hurt for him and the man he must have been after that kind of news. His emotions had been tossed about just as much as ours had been lately. I needed to give him a little slack, just as he should have been giving some to me.

  After wiping down the injured area with antiseptic and some of the clear ointment, I covered it back up with clean pieces of gauze. I couldn’t help but to let my fingers linger for a few seconds longer than necessary on his warm skin. I told myself that I was just making sure the tape was properly adhered, but if I was being honest, I just wanted to touch him.

  I had been so starved for touch from anyone older than a child for so long that his beautiful, honed body seemed to be singing to the blood that rushed through my veins. The first time I met Lane for my job interview, I’d been attracted to him. It would have been impossible not to be. Even before he was built like a brick house, he was gorgeous. His sandy blonde hair looked striking against his lightly tanned skin. His hazel eyes sometimes hinted at being green, which only caused me to want to look a beat too long.

  Of course, I never acted on those lustful feelings. Ash had been my friend, and I was eternally grateful to her for allowing me to work for her family. I was in a tough bind being a young, single mom with a baby. Yes, Lane was nice to look at, but that was all he had ever been to me. Eye-candy. Delicious, mouth-watering eye-candy.

  The object of my frustrating attraction stood up in front of me, causing the proximity of our bodies to be too close. He ushered me into the chair he had just vacated and I looked up at him, confused. He didn’t say anything but instead just walked away, and I soon heard the water running in the bathroom. He returned a moment later, wiping his hands off on a towel and then tossing it onto the bed.

  “Your turn.” He tapped the side of his temple, indicating my injury.

  I immediately sprang up. “No, no,” I rushed to say. “I can take care of it on my own.” The last thing I wanted was him anywhere near my face.

  “It’s only fair,” he replied while rubbing the sanitizer gel on his hands. He already had his fingers gently peeling back the tape when he said, “Besides, you’re bleeding through…you need it changed.”

  My eyes welled up at the idea of him seeing what was underneath all that dirty tape and gauze. Thankfully, it looked a lot better than it had a week ago, but it still wasn’t pretty. His harsh string of curse words under his breath let me know he finally had it uncovered. I shot up and tried to walk away.

  “Please, I can do it,” I implored with tears in my eyes.

  “And I can help. It’s the least I can do after being an asshole to you.” He pushed me back down gently and took a clean swab out of the sterile pack before wiping the area clean. “Why are you crying?” he asked softly. His voice had changed from demanding to calm in a matter of seconds.

  “Because it’s hideous.”

  “That’s usually how cuts go. I don't think they’re supposed to look pretty.” I stayed silent in my seat because he had only confirmed my insecurity. He took a deep breath and continued, “The cut is unsightly, not you. Don’t worry, you’re still as beautiful as ever.”

  Before my jaw could drop at his words, he quickly rushed on to say, “I can take care of this. Besides, I’m not squeamish and this has to hurt like a bitch. Am I allowed to ask what happened, or is that rude?” he inquired.

  “You can ask, but it’s a long story and I really don’t want to talk about it yet.”

  “Fair enough,” he responded easily.

  I had stitches stretching from above my eyebrow, past my temple, and down to my ear. Where his laceration was cleaned up nice and neat with his stitches, mine still looked jagged and disgusting. I just knew I would have a hell of a scar.

  “I wasn’t fair to you,” he whispered. I almost smarted off at his words because that was a huge understatement, but then decided to just let him continue. “It was always easier for me to pawn it off on you. I didn’t always think it was your fault. I had a one-track mind to find Flores, but every once in a while I’d think about that tape of you and his wife and I’d see red. When I saw Kate again and then you, I just... I had no idea how to process that. I really am sorry, I never knew how to anticipate this moment.”

  “I think it’s new for everyone,” I offered.

  “I’m also… jealous,” he whispered.

  “Jealous?” I laughed cynically.

  “You’ve had all these years with her. It’s not your fault regardless, I had no room to be an asshole.”

  I was alarmed when Lane set down yet another soaked piece of gauze in front of me. Should I have been bleeding that much? He gently soothed some of the antibiotic ointment across the side of my face with the lightest of strokes.

  “This doesn’t look good, Raegan. Shouldn’t you be in the hospital or something?” he whispered.

  “I’ve been in the hospital for the past two weeks. That’s where Charlie picked me up. They said I should be fine, as long as I continue taking that arsenal of drugs in there.”

  He started to say something but stopped himself as he stared down into my eyes. For a moment I felt something between us. I sensed so many unspoken words and even a tingling feeling that I was unfamiliar with. He broke the spell first with a slight shake of his head, and then reached out to grab more gauze. I closed my eyes for the remainder of his doctoring, feeling confused.

  Once he had me completely fixed up, I stood slowly, trying to catch my bearings. My head began to spin, and I had to close my eyes again and wait for it to pass. Even with my eyes closed, I felt a crushing sense of whirling darkness around me. I reached out for anything that could stabilize this out-of-sorts feeling and was met by two strong arms.

  “Hey, hey, you okay?” he asked with genuine worry in his voice.

  “Yeah, just dizzy. It’s a side effect of one of my meds. It happens a lot, but they said once I stop taking them, it should go away.” My eyes slowly opened once the spell began to fade, and I spotted the concern in his. I’d only had a few dark spots in my vision compared to the complete blackness I used to get. That had to be a good sign.

  “How long do you have to take them?”

  “Until my heart heals and I can regulate my blood pressure without them,” I stated word-for-word what the doctor explained to me just twenty-four hours ago. I regretfully dropped my hands away from his warm skin.

  “Your heart?!” he exclaimed, sounding alarmed.

  I held up my hand and lethargically said, “Tomorrow, okay? I’m so tired, Lane.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  He headed to his bathroom and I re-entered the darkened bedroom. I crawled in between the kids and my head was so thankful for the pillow underneath it, I was out before I even heard Lane turn off the shower in the bathroom.

  ~~~~~~~

  Soft giggles woke me from my sleep. I hadn’t been able to sleep very hard for the past couple of years. I was always afraid something would happen while I was out, so eventually my body caught up with my mind and learned how to slumber, always in a semi-alert state.

  My back faced the window and when I opened my eyes, I smiled when I saw two bright, smiling faces snickering at each other. They were each other’s best friends. No matter what kind of situation we had been thrown into, I could never regret the bond that had grown between them. They didn’t need TV, video games, or an endless string of toys to occupy themselves. They had each other, and the games they created between the two of them amazed me every day.

  Currently, they seemed to be in some kind of staring contest, seeing which one could go without blinking first. Braden could always make Kate giggle, which caused her to blink within seconds. It was the best sound in the world to wake up to.

  “Good morning, sweethearts,” I said, stretching and thinking about how I wished I could sleep for a few m
ore hours. I was shocked when I saw that it was already eleven in the morning. Even with eight hours of sleep, I still felt as if I had been run over by a bus. Ever since I’d gotten sick, I hadn’t felt like I could ever fully recharge my batteries. I was always running a little low and really hoped that went away soon. “How long have you guys been up?”

  “Shh!!” Braden and Kate promptly admonished me. Their little fingers covered their mouths in a highly dramatic fashion.

  “Daddy’s sleeping!” Kate whispered. “He didn’t leave.” She smiled brilliantly as if she couldn’t believe he really stayed.

  “Duh, Kate. He crossed his heart, remember?” Hmm, he was supposed to have been sleeping when Lane said that. Sneaky boy.

  I rolled over in the huge, king-size bed and looked at where they had pointed moments ago. A cough sputtered out of my throat at the sight of Lane. Last night, he had pulled the couch across the room and pushed it flush against the side of the bed Kate slept on.

  His large body could barely fit across the length of it. An average human being would have made that piece of furniture look like a normal, full-length couch, but a man built like a Greek god made the poor thing look like an armchair. One of his legs was draped over the low backside and his feet were hanging off the end. His undamaged arm was slung above his head, dangling over the end. He had the sling back on and his injured arm was cradled against his chest. He didn’t look even a little bit comfortable, and I felt bad that we had all stretched out in that magnificent bed while he squashed himself onto that plastic-looking furniture.

  “He has a lot of muscles,” I heard Braden whisper. I had to agree with him there. He told me that he didn’t work for the police department anymore, but I wasn’t sure what he did now. Regardless, all of that fighting he had been learning to catch Flores really had kept his body in outstanding shape.

  “That’s because he’s a superhero,” Kate informed Braden.

  “I’m gonna have muscles like that too,” he told her.