Broken Promises (Burning Mistakes Book 1)

by Aimee Noalane

  My focus shifts and I stare at her partially irritated, but mostly confused. All I can think was that I must have heard her wrong. When I don’t move, her hands cup my jaw, and she gently caresses my five o’clock shadow with her palms before pulling my face down to hers.

  “Don’t,” I snarl, but she doesn’t listen.

  The sweet and tender brush of her lips angers me. I should deny her. Lord knows part of me wants to. She’s acting like someone who’s putting on a show, as if she has something to prove.

  She tries deepening the fake kiss and I snap. I place my hands on each side of her chair and lean in until the back of her head hits the wall behind her.

  She wants to put on a fucking spectacle? I’m going to and make sure it’s worth every fucking second. When I’m done with her, our spectators will have their jaws hitting the floor, but most importantly, my beautiful fiancée won’t be able to breathe.

  I shove her thighs apart with my knee and grip the back of her hair.

  “Micah,” she whispers in alarm.

  Well, look at you… it seems like you’ve just caught on to your mistake, Firefly. Too fucking bad, I don’t give a shit anymore.

  I press my mouth on hers, and push past the small opening of her lips, silencing her words with the greedy strokes of my tongue. I take everything I want. Everything I need. I devour her mouth, feast on her lips, and she stupidly gives it to me. I bite, nip, growl, and groan, and when we hear her father’s scolding throat scratch just a few feet away from us, I chuckle and thrust my tongue inside her mouth one last time.

  Aubrey releases the soft sob that was lodged in the back of her throat, and for a brief second, I wonder if she’s crying because of us, me, her brother or if it’s because she was forced into humiliating herself in front of her parents with something she had provoked.

  Then I realize: I don’t care.

  Twisting my head to the side, I catch a glimpse of my masterpiece.

  Red and swollen.

  Perfect.

  I slide up to whisper in her ear, wiping the single teardrop rolling down the delicate skin of her cheek with my abrasive stubble and smile. “I hope the performance was as good for you as it was for me.”

  “Go to hell,” she whispers for my ears only. She tries to push me away, but I don’t budge, making sure she’s aware of each and every inch of my erection pressed against her.

  “Oh, trust me, baby.” My lips curl against her earlobe. “I’m already there.” I get a glimpse of her shock and when I’m sure I have her full attention, I wink and spin on my heels.

  “Micah.” When I hear the crack in her voice, my feet jerk to a stop.

  Fuck. I force my lids shut, and expel what feels like an entire tank of oxygen. I hate her trembling voice. I hate the thought of the tears she will be shedding once I walk out on her.

  I hate that somewhere hidden inside me I still care.

  What just happened is all on her and I don’t regret one single second of it.

  Austin who is right behind me, reaches for my forearm and gives me a reassuring squeeze. When I glance over my shoulder, I see more understanding than I deserve. “Everything will be fine, son.”

  I can’t even stop my snicker. Oh, how I wished he was right. But the fact of the matter is: he’s not.

  The truth is that this—this is my fault.

  The truth is that there’s no longer room for regret or remorse. Just a shit load of resentment, a lot more contained rage, and right around the corner is a downfall I’m not prepared to brave.

  “Please,” Aubrey whispers.

  I retain my smile.

  Hope…

  That little glimmer. That faint flickering light... it tosses and twists your reality from one side to another, blending what you want, what you need and what you should be doing into the same bowl.

  It makes everything around you whirl. It makes you pray for the little dangling filament that’s clawed at the surface of your soul to either reach out or snap.

  Hope is something people hang on to when they refuse to face the hard facts, when they know that sooner or later they will have no choice but to confront their truth.

  Hope is an illusion that disguises your reality. It’s volatile, deceitful and viciously destructive.

  I shake my head, refusing to look at her.

  I know better than to hope.

  Aubrey should learn to do the same.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Aubrey

  Present

  “Aubrey?” my mother whispers.

  He left.

  I’m a mess.

  Furious. Aroused. Confused.

  A fucking mess.

  She brushes a lock of hair away from my face. “Any news on your brother?”

  She knows I haven’t heard anything. I told her I would call them as soon as they gave me something; which I didn’t. The truth is that she’s concerned, worried about me, and catching sight of my father’s pressing scowl, she wants me to be prepared for the inevitable conversation we’re about to have.

  “Want to tell me what that was all about?” my dad scolds.

  No.

  “Aubrey.”

  I glare back and he crosses his arms over his chest. A warning that he isn’t going to back down until I give in. I won’t. Because that, that was me betraying Micah’s trust. That, was the result of a collision between rage, lust, guilt, and fear. A consuming loss of control. An unapologetic need for submission. An insatiable hunger.

  A fucking wreckage.

  I don’t want to explain. I want to run after Micah. I want to provoke him. I want to push past that damn barrier he’s surrounding himself with and demand he tell me what the hell is going on. I want to challenge him, make him understand that whatever is eating him up: I don’t care. That my feelings, my love for him won’t ever change… but I don’t.

  Instead, I watch him march right out the ER door with teardrops clinging to my lashes, and I let them fall only when his shadow disappears.

  “I fucked up.” It’s all I could say.

  Hiccupping my tears away, I reach for the delicate metallic thread around my neck and pull out the engagement ring Micah gave me what feels like ages ago.

  I love Micah. I’m happy. There’s really nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with him. “I didn’t want to tell you… it didn’t feel right.”

  My mother’s eyes soften. “Oh, honey—”

  “I went to the scene of the fire,” I cut her off because I’m not done.

  “You what?” my father barks. “Why? No wonder he’s furious with you.”

  I frown. “It’s not like I planned on showing up there, Dad. It just happened.”

  “Right,” he argues. “So, you just magically appeared in front of the burning house your brother and fiancé were trying to put out?”

  He wouldn’t understand. No one would. I knew without knowing. There was no logical way to explain it. It was like I could feel my brother’s pain as it was happening, sensed his fear, heard his cries... “Well no, but—”

  “Do you not realize the danger you put yourself in?”

  “They put themselves in danger every—”

  “Forget it. We are not having that conversation, Aubrey. Fighting fires, risking their lives is their job. Not yours.” His harsh tone makes me wince. “That man” —he shakes his head— “he loves you more than anything else in this world. If something would have happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself.”

  “And that gives him the right to treat me the way he just did?”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “Would he ever hurt you?”

  I frown at his question because he obviously already knows the answer. “Never.”

  “Exactly. Never. I might not condone your fiancé’s actions, but right now, in his state of mind, I sure as hell understand where they’re coming from.”

  Eighteen Months Ago

  “Are you going to
tell Mom and Dad about proposing to Leah last weekend?” I raise my brow, straddling the bench of the picnic table Vince and I are sitting on for our late lunch.

  We do the same thing once a month when we are summoned home for Friday night dinner. He picks me up after class, we stop at Frenchies to grab a burger, sit on the waterside terrace until we can’t delay the inevitable anymore and head home. It became a tradition after I moved back from New York. Usually Leah and Micah are with us, but they’re both busy this afternoon. Leah is at the shop and can’t get off until four, and Micah had to stay back to look after the bar while Ethan was out on business.

  “Are you going to tell Micah you love him?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’ve been dating him for almost six months.”

  “And?” I snip back.

  “And you love him.”

  I want to grumble, but it comes out as an unlady-like puff. “I’ve decided not to label my feelings.”

  Vince rolls his eyes. “That’s the stupidest answer I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re entitled to your opinion, asshole. But just so you know, you’re in no place to judge me. You’re like the king of secrets, so…”

  “Ha! I knew it.”

  “Shut up, Vince. You know nothing. The only thing you’re doing right now is guessing. And it’s fucking annoying.”

  “You just flat out admitted to keeping secrets from me,” Vince argues.

  “Ididnot,” I whine. “Stop analyzing everything I say.”

  “I’m not analyzing shit, I can see it in your eyes, Aubrey.” He chuckles when he notices my jaw clench. “You might think that you’re fooling some, but I can guarantee you ain’t fooling me.”

  I choose to ignore him, dip a couple of fries in the vanilla ice cream bowl in front of me and stuff them inside my mouth. The satisfying hum rumbling in the back of my throat makes my brother grimace. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

  “I’d rather lick my cum off Leah’s pussy.”

  I grab a handful of fries and throw them at his face. “You’re a disgusting pig.”

  He barks out a laugh and wags his brows. “Don’t knock it until you try it,”

  “And on that note—” I push my tray away from me. “I’m done.”

  “Perfect. More for me then.” He picks at the plate, taking all the crunchiest pieces of fries and stuffs them in his mouth. “So, come on, Aub, be honest, what’s the hold-up?”

  “There’s no hold-up.”

  Vince smiles.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No, tell me. What?”

  The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells me he knows exactly what’s going on. “You’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re afraid he doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “He doesn’t feel the same way, Vince. Remember what he told me the first time he kissed me? He said he could never be the man I wanted him to be, that he’d never be able to take care of me the way I need him to. Which basically translates to: I don’t do love. He holds back. He’ll always hold back. And I get it, he had a rough life, it’s okay it’s just—”

  “How can someone as book-smart as you be so dumb when it comes to relationships?” my twin grouses.

  “Some of your male genes must have escaped your placenta when my frontal cortex was created.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” He pushes the tray away from him and crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you in love with him?”

  “He’s hot, he’s attentive, he fucks like a—”

  A mushy French-fry hits my face. “Don’t talk about your sex life.”

  “You started it,” I remind him.

  “Do it again and I swear I’m listing the names of all your high school friends I’ve slept with and painting it on your living-room wall.”

  “Like my friends would ever sleep with you.”

  “Cassie, Angela, Sky.”

  Oh, hell no. “You did not sleep with my high school best friend.”

  “Oh yeah, I did. Worst fucking lay in my life.”

  “Let me guess.” My right brow arches. “She was bad at it? It was all her fault?”

  His head falls from side-to-side. “I’d say it’s more like a ten/ninety.”

  “Ten/ninety?”

  “Uh-huh. Ninety percent of me thinking I was an unstoppable sixteen-year-old God’s gift to women, and ten tip-deep strokes later, reality shattered my ego.”

  “Oh my god!” I grip my stomach with both hands.

  I remember the morning Sky walked into the school cafeteria looking whiter than a baby’s ass cheek like it was yesterday. She avoided me all day. I must have asked her ten times what I did wrong, and each time she’d say nothing and walked away. At the end of the day, we had science class together, so I confronted her knowing very well there was nowhere for her to disappear to anymore. She ended up telling me she’d made a mistake and slept with someone she wasn’t supposed to. I got pissed because I thought it was RJ. I grabbed my things, ditched class and went home. Two hours later, she showed up at my door tears streaming down her face. She said she couldn’t tell me who it was, but swore that she’d never sleep with the guy I was crushing on. I decided to drop the subject, hoping she’d eventually trust me enough to tell me her secret. She never did.

  “No wonder she’d hide whenever she heard you walking through the front door of the house. Dude—” I wipe the tears at the corner of my eyes. “I don’t know if I should laugh or feel sorry for you.”

  “Really? Because I think you’re doing a pretty damn good job at laughing right now,” Vince grumbles.

  “But, dude… Sky? Really?”

  “Sky was hot. Still is as a matter of fact.”

  “I heard she’s dating Matthew Connelly now.”

  “She is. I spoke with him a couple of months ago. You should give her a call.”

  “Pass.” I roll my eyes, earning myself another heavy exasperated sigh. Vince hates that I’ve cut all ties to our friends in Grady-Falls. The thing is, I’ve made my bed and have absolutely no problem lying in it.

  “Whatever… all I’m saying is that you should just tell Micah how you feel, Aubrey.”

  “How? How in the world am I supposed to tell him that I love him without making a huge deal out of it?”

  “I don’t know,” he replies, grinning. “I never said I had all the answers. Maybe add fuck or some shit when you say it. That way if he doesn’t feel the same way he’ll laugh or whatever.”

  I mentally shake my head. “Right, so you’re suggesting I just walk up to him and say: ‘hey Micah I fucking love you,’ and then hope to god he doesn’t laugh because if he does, it’s going to crush my fucking heart.”

  “I feel this pressing need to tell you that I totally knew you loved him.”

  Jeez you’re annoying. “Okay fine, whatever, you’re right. Yes, I love him. A lot. So much. I love the way he takes care of me, the way he protects me, when he argues with me, I can’t get enough of when he kisses me… Vince, I’ve never felt this for anyone before—ever. He’s everything.”

  “Do me a favor, Aub. Tell him.”

  And risk losing him? No thank you. “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll consider the idea when you tell Mom and Dad about that diamond you put on your fiancée’s finger.”

  “Pffff, I told them before I asked her.”

  I snort. “You asked Mom and Dad for their permission to marry your girlfriend?”

  “I didn’t ask th—shut up.”

  “Okay baby bro, give me the deets. Were they okay with it?”

  “I got the ‘you’re way too young to make decisions like this’ from Mom, and the ‘if you’re sure about the way you feel then do it’ from Dad.”

  A grin tugs at the corner of my brother’s mouth and I feel the bench I’m sitting on dip. My eyes grow wide and I scowl at Vince, giving him my ‘you’re so going to pay for this
, face.’ “Hey.”

  “Mmmmm.” Micah presses his lips inside the crook of my neck, causing a light shiver to run down my spine. “Sorry I couldn’t make it on time for lunch.”

  “You can have the rest of my fries.” God, why is my voice quivering so damn much? “Vince was being his repulsive self and I lost my appetite.”

  “I know, I heard.” He pulls my body flush against his. “And for the record, I fucking love you too, Firefly.”

  Present

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bankes?” The calm tone that broke the lingering silence startles me, but I refuse to open my eyes and find out who the unfamiliar voice belongs to. My body is wrapped in Micah’s comforting scent and I don’t want to come to terms with the fact that his sitting by my side is probably just a blissful dream.

  “Aubrey, sweetie?” My mother’s voice sounds just as sleepy as I am.

  I release an unhappy groan and sit up from the three uncomfortable chairs I’ve been laying across for the past—I don’t know how many hours. The dim morning twilight is piercing through the windows of the private room we’ve been appointed to, which means that I’ve managed to doze off for at least two hours.

  Thirty minutes after Micah left me in the ER, we were directed away from the chaos and placed in a secluded area near the ICU. I have a feeling my fiancé has something to do with us being allowed here, but I’ll never know for sure. For as long as I’ve known him, Micah has always been the kind of man who will go out of his way for the well-being of his family and friends, but never wants recognition for it.

  My tired eyes rifle the room in hopes of seeing my fiancé resurface from wherever he had disappeared to, but as expected, there is no light chuckle to mock my sleepiness, nor is there a soft touch to smooth over my interrupted slumber.

  Instead, I am greeted with the sight of a man in his late twenties dressed in green scrubs standing in the doorway. By the looks of the fatigue lines tracing the corners of his dark eyes, he’s also a man who hasn’t had a break in too many hours.

  I stretch my stiff back and Micah’s hoodie slides off my shoulders, falling on my lap. I smile sadly. I miss him. The only solace I have right now is knowing that at some point in time, he came to check-up on me.