Every Promise You Made

by J. E. Parker

  “Do what?” He dared ask. “What the fuck is going on?”

  I looked over his shoulder and saw Grandmama, Shelby, and Maddie standing on Grandmama’s front porch. “Great,” a humorless chuckle spilled from my lips, “now everyone gets to witness me losing what’s left of my mind!”

  Without saying another word, I jerked my arms out of Evan’s grasp, turned and moved toward the road.

  Just keep moving. Don’t slow down.

  Evan stayed right on my heels, but I ignored him.

  Far as I’m concerned, he can take a long walk off a short pier.

  My feet hit the sidewalk, and I sped up my pace. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, but at that moment, all I wanted to do was get away.

  To escape.

  “Hope,” Evan’s voice rose with each word he spoke. “Talk to me, baby.”

  Baby… the term of endearment was laughable.

  “Don’t call me that,” I snapped. I was being a complete brat—something I never was—but I didn’t care. I needed to be selfish; needed to take care of myself for once. If that meant stomping off like a peed off toddler in the throes of a full-fledged hissy fit then so be it.

  “What happened in there?” Evan’s voice sounded less guttural and more concerned. “Did someone say something? Was it Anthony again?” He growled, probably plotting all the ways he'd murder poor Tony if he’d been the one to upset me.

  Yeah, like Shelby would ever let him touch Anthony.

  “For fuck's sake, talk to me!”

  I was growing angrier by the second. “No, Ev, no one said anything.” It was a lie. He didn’t need to know that though. The last thing I needed was him pissed off and running his mouth to Grandmama. She wouldn’t have bothered to argue with him. She would’ve just shot him in the butt. And even as mad as I was, I didn’t want that to happen. “I realized a few things about myself. That's all.”

  Things like I’m a doormat.

  Filled with the urge to drop my head back and scream to the heavens above, I walked faster. I was staring at the passing cars when a black truck came into view. I recognized it, but I couldn’t place who it belonged too.

  One of the guys from the fire station where Hendrix works, maybe?

  My head was such a mess anything other than basic reactions were beyond me.

  The truck slowed before doing an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street and coming to a complete stop beside the sidewalk where I was walking. The passenger window rolled down, and Carissa’s sweet face, followed by Clara’s angry one came into view.

  Oh, thank God!

  Carissa opened the passenger’s side door and scooted over to the middle of the truck’s bench seat. “Kyle let us borrow his truck to go to Costco,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks. “It’s a good thing too because you look like you need to be rescued.”

  “You have no idea,” I laughed manically.

  Clara leaned past Carissa and hollered, “Get in.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Before that big gorilla chasing you decides to intervene.”

  I didn’t need her to tell me twice.

  Jumping into the truck beside Carissa, I reached for the door to slam it shut but was stopped short when Evan’s big body blocked the way. “No,” he said, “You’re not going anywhere.”

  For Pete’s sake!

  “Not your choice, Evan,” Clara fussed from across the seat. “Now be a good little boy and take a step back.”

  He didn’t listen.

  Not that I was expecting him too.

  “Evan, move,” I said, trying to pull the door shut.

  He remained stock still. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  I buckled my seatbelt before meeting his gaze again. “What’s wrong,” I said in a high-pitched, borderline witchy tone, “is that I am sick and tired of loving you with everything I have and getting nothing back.”

  Beside me, Carissa sucked in a breath.

  For a moment—just a fraction of a second—I felt guilty for my words.

  But when Evan said nothing in response, my guilt dissipated like vapor.

  He doesn’t care.

  I shook my head in disgust.

  “Yeah,” I whispered, my eyes locked with his. “Don’t worry, big guy, I wasn’t expecting you to reply.”

  I stared out the window and clamped my hands down on my thighs.

  Hold yourself together.

  Don’t fall apart.

  Not yet.

  “Clara, drive. He’ll move.”

  Evan took a step back. He knew Clara would run him over if need be. Her tolerance for bullheaded men was low. I slammed the door shut.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Clara said as she stepped on the gas causing the truck to lurch forward. “Stupid men. I swear they’re nothing but problems.”

  I didn’t respond. Neither did Carissa.

  Carissa wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against her. “You can cry if you need to.” She held me tight and ran her fingers through my hair. “I don’t mind.”

  Unable to hold back the agony tearing me apart, I pressed my face to her shoulder and let the silent sobs racking my body spill free.

  Fourteen

  Evan

  I ran all the way back to my truck.

  Heart in my throat, I couldn't get the image of Hope's tear-streaked face or pain-filled eyes out of my head. The moment she'd run out of Grandmama's, her features twisted in agony, I'd known something was wrong.

  What that something was, I still didn't know.

  But I'm sure as hell going to find out.

  When I made it back to my truck, I glanced up at Grandmama's house.

  All three women—Grandmama, Maddie, and Shelby—still stood on the porch.

  Maddie, who looked seconds away from crying, was staring down the road where Hope had jumped into the truck with Clara and Carissa. Shelby, standing near the steps, had her arms crossed over her chest and was glaring at me with an icy stare that promised retribution. And Grandmama looked like she was seconds away from murdering me with her bare hands.

  My gaze bounced back to Shelby.

  If she said something about what I'd told her earlier, I'd lose it.

  I'd never hurt a woman in my life, and I'd damn sure kill any man that did, but if Shelby talked or spilled my secret, our friendship-the one we'd had for over two years-would be over.

  Completely. Severed.

  Slamming my keys onto the hood of my truck, I rounded the front and headed straight for the porch. "What did you do?" I shouted at the blonde tornado shooting daggers at me with her eyes. "Did you tell her?" When my foot landed on the bottom step of the porch, the front door burst open, and Anthony, followed by Hendrix stepped outside. I paid them zero attention. "Shelby, dammit, answer me! Did you tell her?"

  Shelby's eyes blazed pure fire. "I didn't say a word. I wouldn't do that." Her voice was low, but I didn't miss the deadly undertone that laced her truthful words. "But you sure as shit need too, dickhead."

  A picture of Ryker's face flashed in my head when she called me a dickhead.

  I flinched.

  Maddie stepped forward. "Tell her what?" Her gaze drilled into the side of my skull. "What's going on, Evan?"

  I took a step back and shook my head. "Boss lady, I love and respect the hell out of you, but this"—I gestured between us—"has nothing to do with you."

  In the blink of an eye, Maddie's face turned from sweet and concerned to pissed and determined. "How dare you say that? You"—she pointed at me—"know how much Hope and I have been through together. You know how much I care about her, how protective I am of her. If something is happening with her, I want to know about it."

  I took another step back. "It's not your concern."

  Maddie moved to take another step forward, but Hendrix wrapped his arm around her waist, halting her progress. "Let him go, pretty girl." Understanding flashed in his eyes. "Whatever is going on is between them."

  M
addie scoffed. "Hope is my friend!"

  Hendrix nodded once. "I realize that baby, but she's Evan's woman."

  The tension surrounding everyone was so thick you could've cut it with a knife.

  Unable to bear it any longer, I turned around and headed for my truck.

  Shelby, being the hardheaded woman she is, wasn't done with me yet though.

  As I opened my door, she shouted, "Evan!"

  I looked up and my eyes locked with hers. "Remember that I told you earlier. Either love Hope the way she desperately needs or let her the hell go. She doesn't deserve this." She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "And neither do you."

  I didn't reply as I slid in the front of my truck and started the engine.

  Shifting into drive, I made a U-turn.

  I cursed a blue streak as I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. "Damn it, Ry," I whispered to the empty cab. "I'm sorry." Stepping on the clutch, I shifted the truck into second gear. "I'm so fucking sorry."

  Overcome with grief, I didn't notice the tears that had begun to fall.

  Fifteen

  Hope

  I’d just walked out of my bedroom when the apartment door opened.

  A second later, it was slammed shut.

  Great. Here we go.

  Barefoot and wearing one of Evan’s t-shirts instead of a nightgown, I moved down the hall, my eyes on the wooden floor beneath my feet. Evan’s piercing gaze was locked on me from where he stood in the foyer, but I didn’t acknowledge him.

  My heart still hurts too much.

  I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet before sticking it under the kitchen faucet. I’d just filled it with water when I heard him drop his keys on the kitchen table. I rested the glass against my lips but stopped short of taking a sip when he stepped up behind me.

  He placed his hands on the counter—one on each side of me—and pressed his broad chest against my shoulder blades. His body heat covered my back and chills raced down my spine at his closeness. Burying his face in my hair, he sighed.

  Then, silence reigned.

  Fed up, I sat the glass down and turned, bringing us face-to-face.

  Our gazes locked and my heart rate sped up.

  Skin heating, I tore my gaze from his and looked to the living room. “Can you move?” To my dismay, my voice shook. “I’m not in the mood to play whatever game this is.”

  After what happened earlier that morning followed by spending half the day shopping for supplies with Clara and Carissa, I was tired. Well, more like exhausted. It wasn’t only my body that was worn out though. No, my soul was weary too.

  Instead of stepping back, Evan moved closer. His abs pressed into my chest, and his right hand landed on my hip. My head grew dizzy at the slight touch. “Evan,” I said, dropping my gaze to his trembling hand. “What are you doing?”

  “I took the night off work.”

  Confused, I blinked. Evan never missed a shift. Not even when he was sick. My eyes met his again. “What? Why did you do that?”

  He swallowed as his beautiful eyes bored into mine. “I want”—clenching his jaw, he paused—“I need to spend time with you. Work can wait. You can’t, little bit.”

  His words were unexpected.

  Suspicious about his motives, I narrowed my eyes. “Why the sudden change?”

  Wrapping an arm around my lower back, he anchored his hold on me. “I don’t like the way things are between us.” Could’ve fooled me. “And I fucking hate hurting you.”

  My entire body shook. “Then why do it?”

  Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m messed up, Hope. I have been since—”

  He stopped speaking, but I already knew what he'd say.

  “Since Ryker died, right?”

  Hearing the words roll off my tongue caused my belly to twist.

  And just like that, the loss and agony return.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek against the center of his chest. He inhaled, and I could’ve sworn I could hear his heart breaking. “You don’t need to say it, big guy, I already know.” A choked back sob jolted my body, making my entire frame jerk. “Besides, it isn't only you that’s messed up. I’m all wonky and broken too."

  “Baby—”

  “Losing Ryker was hell”—I restrained another sob—“but losing you, having you so close yet so far away, I can’t handle it, Evan. It’s breaking me, tearing me apart. And I can’t keep living like this.”

  At that point, I was bordering on another meltdown.

  Raising my hands, I smacked his chest and repeated the words I’d said to Mama the night before. I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help it. I was spiraling into an abyss where nothing but more pain and constant misery awaited me. “I wish it would’ve been me. I wish I would’ve been the one to—"

  Before I could finish the sentence, my feet left the floor, and I was flying.

  He tossed me over his shoulder, moved out of the kitchen and across the living room. A few heartbeats later, I landed on our secondhand leather sofa with a soft thud. The big guy followed me down, blanketing my body with his own. Anchoring his huge fists in my hair, he jerked my head back, tilting my face to meet his.

  Wild eyes met mine.

  “Don’t you ever”—he tugged on my hair again—“say that again.” Chest heaving, he exhaled so harshly his nostrils flared. “I would die if you were ripped away from me.”

  And that’s when I broke.

  I was bordering on hysteria as I let my stupid emotions overcome me as I spiraled into familiar darkness. I allowed the first sob to break free, and before long I was a shaking mess of tears, snot, and gasps for breath.

  I cupped his jaw—one side was still swollen from whatever happened the night before—with shaky hands, I tried my best to focus my eyes on him. “You don’t understand.”

  Evan closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “Then explain it.”

  “You say you’d die if I were ripped away from you.” Sliding my right hand up his face, I brushed my thumb across his cheek. “But, Evan, that’s how I feel every day.” His eyes popped open. “Every single day a part of me dies”—my hands shook—“because a giant piece of you has been taken from me and I can’t…”

  Breathe, Hope. Just breathe.

  “… cope.”

  Evan’s face twisted in agony. “Goddamn it, Hope…” Releasing my hair, he slid his hands under my shoulders and lifted my chest to meet his. “I’m so fucking sorry.” A tear slid down his cheek causing my heart to break even further. “If I could go back and fix it I would. I’d save Ry, and I’d save—” A lone tear slipped free from his eye. “If I could go back I swear on my life, I’d find a way to keep every promise I made you.”

  “Every promise you made?”

  Even the one where you promised to keep me forever? I mentally asked.

  “Every. Single. One.”

  I swallowed the fear that welled in my chest and prepared myself to ask the question that had weighed so heavily on my soul for the past three years. “I realize what happened over there was bad…”

  That’s putting it lightly.

  “… And I realize it screwed both of us up, but I don’t g-get i-it,” I stuttered. “Why won’t you be with me?” A heavy silence stretched between us. “I mean, do you n-not”—I took a deep breath—“do you not want me anymore?”

  “You think I don’t want you?” Anguish lined his voice.

  My entire body trembled. “I don’t know what you want.” It was the cold, hard truth. “One minute you act like you can’t stand the sight of me and the next you look at me like I’m the only thing you see.”

  Evan’s gaze softened. “You are the only thing I see. You always have been.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not.” He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, I started fussing again, cutting him off. “It's obvious what you see when you look at me.”

  Hi
s brows furrowed and confusion swept across his features. “And what do I see?”

  “You see my brother.” Evan froze. “Every single time you look at me, you see Ryker, don’t you?” He didn’t bother to deny it because there was no point. I already knew the truth. Whatever happened in Iraq, it was about more than Ryker dying. “Tell me”—I clutched the front of his shirt—“tell me what happened to him.”

  It was the wrong thing to say.

  Evan jerked out of my hold and stormed down the hall toward his bedroom.

  Climbing to my feet, I followed right behind me. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Evan!” I shouted, my grief replaced with anger. “I am sick and tired of you running away from me!”

  He ignored my shouts.

  Pushing into his bedroom, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet and pulled it over his head. When he continued to ignore me, I came unglued. As I clenched handfuls of hair in my fists, I screamed, “I deserve to know what happened to him. He was my brother!”

  Evan whirled to face me. The look on his face was dark, sinister. I’d seen him peed off before, but I’d never seen him look as angry as he did at that moment. He charged me, and I stumbled backward. I wasn’t afraid of him but the sane part of me—however small it was—knew I needed to get the heck out of the way.

  My back met the wall, and Evan’s arms caged me in.

  His empty eyes locked with mine. “You want me to tell you what happened to your fucking brother?” He yelled, his nostrils flaring like those of an enraged bull. “You want to know the truth about what happened to the man you loved more than anything in this fucked up world?”

  Part of me didn’t want to know. Part of me did.

  The part that did won.

  I jerked my head down once in quick affirmation, “Tell me.”

  Face twisting into a snarl, Evan leaned close until only an inch separated his face from mine. “He died, Hope.” His words were like a sucker punch to the gut. Taking a step back, he continued, “And that’s all you need to know.”