Promise Me This

by Christina Lee

  As I was laying out disposable covers for the stations up front, the artists began showing up to work. Lila winked at me as she walked by and when I looked toward the front of the shop, Dex was heading my way, bags under his eyes, his mouth drawn tight.

  I braced myself against one of the chairs.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, immediately. “Won’t happen again.”

  I was still pissed at him for the way he’d acted. I wanted to tell him to stop partying so hard and to get himself completely straight on where we stood, but I was sure the guys would get on his case about it today. In fact I knew they would, because over Dex’s shoulder Cory had strode in the door and was already shaking his head in our direction.

  “Okay, Dex,” I said. “We’re cool, for now.”

  I couldn’t wait for Emmy to get her butt in here today so I could tell her what happened last night and get her advice. Maybe not the sex part, but definitely the car part.

  Oliver strode to the front desk as I was pulling up the schedule. “We’ve got a full calendar today. But I also need you to print some things for the art festival.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  The guys dreaded the yearly art festival, which included works from local artists, the university, and businesses. My photos would be on display from my photography assignment and the tattoo shop had its own tent where the artists’ portfolios were spotlighted, and people could get some light tattooing and piercing. The hardest thing about it was keeping everything sanitized and since Oliver was such a stickler for it, most people who showed up were encouraged to make appointments to have work done.

  Our tent was usually overcrowded because people in the community who wouldn’t normally walk into a tattoo shop are curious enough to watch it being done at festivals. The artists drew straws over who had to work the event and normally Oliver chose two or three of them on a rotating shift. He hadn’t decided this year’s lineup yet.

  When Bennett came through the door he greeted me and said, “You good?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Thanks again. Do you . . .”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  “Do you know how much a tire costs?”

  “You know what, Jessie? I wouldn’t sweat it,” he said. “Nate wouldn’t take your money anyway. Besides, it would be chump change to him, you know that. Just accept it and be done with it.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Did he . . .” Bennett trailed off as he considered me and I wondered just what in the hell he wanted to ask. “Never mind. None of my business.”

  I let out the breath I was holding. I so didn’t want to go there with Bennett, even though he might be able to give me good advice. But it’d be too damn awkward.

  When Emmy breezed through the door five minutes late, I smiled big. “Better get your ass over here before Oliver sees you.”

  She clunked her way behind the desk. “Sorry, I helped get one of our new terrier mixes adopted today.”

  Emmy and those damn animals.

  She put away her coat and purse while looking over the waiting room, which was getting full from walk-ins. “Any dawn-breakers?”

  Sometimes a group would come in to get tattoos on a dare, after a night of partying hard. Occasionally we’d fit them in, if they’d sobered up enough, or the guys would stay late, to earn extra cash. If it was a bunch of girls, it could get interesting, especially if their only goal was to get these guys to put their hands on them. It was up to us at the front desk to make that determination.

  But we hadn’t had any DBs in yet. “Not today.”

  “Heard your tire was flat last night,” she said, eyeing a girl who’d just strolled through the door. She was a regular of Dex’s. He specialized in shaded art and was finishing up a huge piece on her leg. “How did you make it here today?”

  “Nate drove me home last night,” I said.

  “And then?” Emmy arched her eyebrow.

  “And then he came inside and . . . God, Emmy . . . it was amazing.”

  Emmy never pushed me for closed-door details, and I never offered, but she would get the gist of what I was saying from my tone alone. Just talking about it made my entire body heat up.

  Before she could respond, another customer walked in and she alerted Cory of his appointment while I got my emotions in check. Then she eagerly turned back to me.

  “And when I woke up this morning,” I said, grabbing for my coffee to take a needed sip. “He was gone. But my car was back in the driveway, sporting a brand-new tire.”

  She squealed. “Nate?”

  “Right,” I said, lowering my voice since Emmy’s high-pitched tone alerted Cory across the room at his station. “Bennett told me that he and Nate got it done early this morning, while I was still sleeping. Can you believe that shit?”

  “Told you,” she said. “That boy is going down hook, line, and sinker.”

  I just shook my head and turned away to pull up some files for the art festival.

  I was pretty sure it was the other way around and I didn’t have any earthly clue what to do about it.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Nate

  Heading up my parents’ driveway for a family dinner, which unfortunately included all four of us, I heard my father’s booming voice. I froze near the azalea bushes, bile pungent in the back of my throat.

  I had the urge to squat down and curl into a ball as small as humanly possible, like I did when I was a kid. But I forced my legs to continue into the garage, closer to the source of the sound. I was an adult and I needed to protect my mother.

  As I neared the back door that led into the kitchen, I overheard more of their argument. The hair on my arms prickled despite the heat of the day.

  “Your brother left me a threatening message, you bitch!” My father yelled. “What the hell did you say to him?”

  My stomach tightened painfully. When I reached out to my mom’s family for support, I thought I had done the right thing. But now it sounded like my uncle had figured some things out on his own, and my dad’s reaction wasn’t good.

  Dr. Drake warned me that this kind of thing might happen when I began standing up for myself and facing the problem head-on. That it most likely would upset the order of things in my dysfunctional family.

  But he assured me that the fault did not lie with me, that I could only take ownership of myself. And I had believed him. Fuck.

  “Wh . . . what did Jack s . . . say?” my mother asked, her voice high pitched and shaking.

  “He told me that I’d been keeping you on a tight leash all of these years and that you haven’t been allowed to enjoy time with your own family,” he growled.

  “I . . . I don’t know why he’d say something like that,” she said, in a whimper.

  I pushed the screen door open and stepped inside.

  My father stood over my mother as she cowered in a chair at the kitchen table. His large hands gripped her upper arms painfully. I could tell by how pinched my mother’s face was that he was hurting her.

  “Get your fucking hands off of her!” my voice boomed.

  My father’s back straightened.

  “If you want to blame someone,” I bit out. “Blame me.”

  He released my mother and rounded on me, eyes blazing. My mother uncurled in her seat, her hands clutching and rubbing at her upper arms.

  “You?” He stepped toward me and I could feel my fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. But all I needed to do was look over his shoulder at how my mother was soothing her bruises to know which one I’d act upon. “You’re the one who’s been running your mouth?”

  “Running my mouth?” I said, balling my fists. “No, just telling the truth. I’m not hiding this shit anymore.”

  “Nobody needs to know our family business,” he hissed through his teeth.

  “And what business is that, Dad? The business where you leave bruises on Mom because you’re angry over something she said or did?” I spat out. “Or the business where y
ou’re gone all the time but Mom’s not allowed to work or do what she loves outside of this house?”

  “Nate,” my mother said, struggling to rise from her chair. “That’s my—”

  “Your mother’s a grown woman and makes her own choices,” he said, his face getting redder by the minute. “I think you’ve got some of your facts mixed up, Son.”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t, Dad,” I said. “I’ve just been hoping she wakes up and discovers that you don’t hold all the cards. That she can make a life for herself outside of you. Have friends, do the things she used to love.”

  My mother gasped. To her this might’ve sounded like a betrayal and that made my heart vault to my throat. I was so damn sad that it had gotten to this point, that we had all allowed it to happen.

  “You ungrateful little bastard,” my father ground out and then strode closer. I was holding his gaze strong as steel but I could still see his knuckles tightening at his sides. The same fists that he had used on us countless times.

  My head and chest felt like they were on fire. My hands were trembling but I was more enraged than scared. “You better keep your distance, Dad. I’m not a little kid anymore and I will take you down.”

  My father’s shoulders tensed, his eyes widened and that’s when I knew I had unnerved him. I had never spoken to him like that and I could tell he was sizing me up, wondering if I could carry through with my threat. Though he stood taller than me, I had way more muscle and upper body strength.

  I heard noises emerging from my mother’s throat and whether it was crying or disbelief, I didn’t know. But I couldn’t even look at her—if I did I might lose my resolve.

  “You never had it in you to make something of yourself,” my father said, venom seeping from his words. “Not like Luke.”

  I knew at some point he’d go for the jugular. But I had long ago given up on pleasing him. Besides, this wasn’t the kind of relationship I was looking to emulate; this was the total opposite. I had at least learned that. If not from them, then from being around someone like Jessie.

  “Yeah, Luke is turning out to be just like you,” I said, through clenched teeth. “Hopefully his girlfriend Anna won’t stand for it.”

  “That’s enough, Nate,” my mother’s voice rang out. But I knew it was just in an effort to not hear the ugly truth, so I kept on going.

  “You better hope he gets control of his anger,” I said. There was silence as my father digested that info. “He could lose his football scholarship, tarnish your family name.”

  “You’ve succeeded in tarnishing our name all on your own,” my father spat out and that statement had crawled under my skin and nearly gutted me. I had been the one to let the family secret out, after all. Still, I held on to the wall for support, attempting to suck in air.

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” Luke roared, storming through the door.

  I turned to see my brother’s thick frame eating up the entryway.

  I spun toward him, regaining momentum. “I walked in to find our dear old dad leaving bruises on Mom’s arms.”

  I could tell I had thrown Luke and he didn’t know what to do. I looked him in the eye trying to appeal to that little boy from long ago. I only saw a brief flicker and then it was gone.

  “Nate,” my mother called. “Stop it this instant.”

  My brother folded his arms with a smirk. “Where the hell is all this bravado coming from? That new girl with all the ugly ink got you riled up?”

  Heat exploded in my brain. In one swift motion I lunged and forced him up against the wall. “Don’t you say another fucking word.”

  He smirked and threw his hands up in surrender. “I see she’s gotten under your skin. She must be wild in bed.”

  I pulled my arm back and balled my fist to pulverize him until a shocking thought jolted through my brain. Punching my brother would reduce me to my father’s level.

  “You’re dating that little piece of trash?” my father said behind me. As if that was what mattered right now, as if he had any say.

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “You’re the piece of trash, Dad. You’re the one who ruined this family.”

  “Get the hell out of my house, you thankless piece of shit,” my father’s voice thundered.

  “I’ll leave, gladly,” I said as I headed toward the door. “I can’t be part of this family anymore, not the way it is now.”

  I looked back at my mom to see if she’d say or do anything to defend me. Or herself, for that matter.

  With my eyes, I beckoned her to follow. But she only gave a silent shake of her head. Disappointment crushed down on me.

  “I love you, Mom, and I hope you leave this asshole.”

  I walked out the door and heard it slam shut behind me, loud enough to rattle the windows. I considered the fact that I had just left my mom in that house with those two brutes.

  I stood stock-still on the landing listening for any violence. After a few minutes of silence, I figured they had just gone back to living the lie now that I was out of their hair.

  As I opened my car door, I gave the house one final glance. My mother stood at the front window, her haunted eyes on me.

  It was as if she were watching me from a prison cell, with no escape in sight.

  I didn’t think that image would ever leave me.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Jessie

  After my shift at Raw Ink, I headed over to the university to finalize my photography exhibit. I hadn’t seen Nate in several days, and outside of almost daily texts between us, we hadn’t spoken in person.

  I had been the one to initiate contact this time since his photos were so embedded in all of my bridge footage. Plus, I had a good plan for my assignment and I wanted to make sure to get his permission.

  Me: You okay with being in a couple of the photos for my project?

  Him: You’re going to use some of those shots I was in?

  Me: Yeah, because they’re kick ass and it’ll look weird if I crop you out.

  Him: I could see how that would be a problem, he is pretty large. Probably takes up the whole frame.

  Me: Is that what the speck of dust was? That explains it.

  Him: Speck of dust? Dust storm, baby.

  Me: *eye roll* Keep it in your pants, Square.

  Nate had confided in me that he’d still been seeing Dr. Drake at the counseling center and that he was working through, quote: “all of his family shit.” I paused for a moment, considering my next text. I wanted to be there for Nate, but I also didn’t want to pry if he didn’t feel like sharing anything yet.

  Me: You know I’m always here, right, if you want to talk to someone?

  Him: Thanks, Blue. I could definitely use someone to talk to. I confronted my dad the other day and it did not go well.

  Me: Oh my God, did he . . .

  Him: No. Besides, I’m way bigger than him now.

  Me: How did it feel to confront him?

  Him: Honestly, it felt empowering and pretty damn good. But now my mom isn’t even speaking to me. I totally upset the apple cart, so to speak, by calling my dad out. I’m pretty much not allowed back in that house.

  Me: So sorry, Square. Maybe your mom just needs time. I would keep reaching out to her, even if she doesn’t respond. You guys have a special relationship and I think she’ll come around.

  Him: Good advice. I kind of made a mess of things and it’s fucking with my brain.

  Me: Understood. I’m here if you need to talk it through again . . .

  Him: Thanks, Blue. You’re a good friend. Sorry I haven’t been around much, but I’ll get it together.

  I had a feeling that was his way of telling me that whatever was transpiring between us was being placed on pause, as if I hadn’t clued in already. We were pretty good at the friend thing, anyway.

  Point being that I needed to move on. Nate had demons he was wrestling with and you didn’t rush that kind of thing. Especially if all of his family stuff was floating to
the surface.

  If he didn’t think he could explore whatever was happening between us right now, I had to accept that. Besides, it was better in the long run if he could sort his crap out now. I could have never tried to have a relationship after my father died; I would’ve been a total wreck. So I got it. Shit was coming to a head.

  ***

  The following night, we were sitting at our regular table in the back of Zach’s Bar. As soon as Cory and Dex started up an annoying game of beer pong, I stood up to get my own drink at the bar. I was not in the mood for their shenanigans tonight and even though Dex and I were on much better terms since the bowling alley incident, I didn’t feel like watching him get wasted, either.

  I sat on a stool, ordered my beer, and then looked around the place, noting the mix of locals and university students here tonight. There was a guy at the far end of the bar that seemed familiar and I tried placing him without being too obvious. He looked up from his glass, our eyes met, and he tipped his chin.

  Definitely hot with his arms and neck painted in color, he also sported black skeleton ear gauges and a buzz cut. He was the exact type I’d always been interested in, before my recent road trip seemed to change everything. Maybe this was precisely what I needed—to flirt with a guy who was more like me.

  My eyes swept to the door just as Nate breezed through and my stomach immediately tangled in knots. He was with Quinn, Brian, and some other frat guys, but he definitely stood above the rest in stature. Or maybe just in my fucked-up mindset.

  His hair was tousled, his jeans were tight, and he wore on one of those button-down shirts with the stupid horse insignia that he seemed to own a fair share of. Since when had I ever dissolved into Jell-O over a ripped, clean-cut, privileged boy?

  My gaze travelled back to the guy at the end of the bar, just as he stood up and began heading my way. Usually guys like him didn’t play games, they just came straight out and told you want they wanted.

  They may have looked all badass but even still, they were sometimes clueless in the wooing department. They didn’t always know how to satisfy a woman in the bedroom, no matter how much swagger they showed. My neck felt prickly hot at the image of Nate between my legs the other night.