Black Promises: A Dark New Adult Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “I will.”

  “And nothing weird. She’s not a third wheel.”

  “I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m just not in the mood for a party tonight.”

  “All right then. Let’s go get Robyn and get out of here.”

  Everyone watched us. Robyn seemed more than happy to escape, though a little unsure about Jarrod coming along.

  But in the end, it was fun. We hung out like normal people for once, and whatever hunger was locked down inside of Jarrod stayed dormant. For a few hours, I got a glimpse of how it could be.

  Until later the next morning when everything fell apart again.

  19

  Jarrod

  I was a normal guy for a night.

  It felt good to tell Cora all that about my family. I held so much of it locked away inside and barely ever spoke about my parents. I never told anyone about Uncle Bernard and Robyn, mostly because I was afraid of what the bastard would do if he ever found out, but Cora deserved the truth.

  And I deserved to get some shit for being such a bastard for so long.

  Robyn never asked me to protect her. I did it back then because I wanted to, and I still did it because my cousin didn’t deserve her abusive father. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat her like trash in public.

  I’d have to fix that.

  Hell, I had a lot of atoning to do.

  Though I wasn’t sure why I wanted to.

  Cora was right. Something had changed ever since she and I started all this. My constant need for pain and blood had diminished to nearly nothing, and I found that I could vent most of that on the football field. I didn’t know if it would last forever, but my life was easier without that dark side of me.

  It was like I was a regular guy.

  Maybe Cora did that to me.

  I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not, but I was willing to give it a try.

  I felt decent the next day instead of hungover and aching from bruises and cuts from multiple different fights like I normally felt after an Addler party. I got a decent night’s sleep and even enjoyed hanging out with my cousin for once. I made coffee and began to mentally prep myself for Saturday football practice when the doorbell rang.

  I frowned at the clock. It was barely after ten in the morning. Nobody ever came to our house this early on the weekend, and I could already hear Uncle Bernard grumbling in the hallway, probably ready to tell me to fuck off for something I hadn’t done. He opened the front door and the surprise in his voice was obvious, but I couldn’t tell who was there.

  I drifted into the hallway then froze.

  The woman standing out front was thin with dark hair and dark skin. She wore a casual business outfit, not flashy or expensive, but practical and comfortable. She seemed tired, with dark bags under her eyes, and she flashed a badge at Uncle Bernard before spotting me and pointing.

  Uncle Bernard looked over his shoulder then waved me over.

  I approached, my heart racing.

  “This is Detective…” He trailed off, frowning.

  “Bates,” she supplied with a smile. “Detective Bates.”

  “She’s here to talk with you.” He looked at me like, what the fuck did you do now?

  “I don’t know what a police detective would want with me.” I had to play it cool. There was no way she had anything on me, not with how careful I’d been.

  “Just some routine questions pertaining to a case we’re investigating. Would you mind stepping outside so we can talk in private?” She spoke like this was no big thing, smooth and easy, with a smarmy smile.

  Uncle Bernard ate it up. “I’m sure he’ll help however you need, right, Jarrod?”

  “Of course, Detective.” I moved past my uncle and joined Bates out on the front porch.

  Uncle Bernard glared at me then closed the door.

  I drifted over toward the railing. I wanted to put space between us and whoever was on the other side of that door, no doubt trying to listen. Probably Aunt Genni with a glass pressed to her ear.

  “How’s it going, Jarrod?” Detective Bates asked, joining me at the railing. “I’m sorry to bother you so early on a weekend.”

  “Must be important if they have you doing overtime like this.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Overtime, my ass. It’s only a few little questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “Happy to help.”

  She took out her phone and held it up. “I’m going to record this if that’s okay? Helps with my notes.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She hit start. “Detective Lynn Bates interviewing Jarrod Hale.” She made a face like it was stupid and official sounding, but necessary. “So, Jarrod, you’re on the football team at Blackwoods, is that right?”

  “That’s right. I play defense.”

  “I hear you’re one hell of a linebacker. NFL scouts have been sniffing around you. I don’t think Blackwoods produces many professional players.”

  “I try not to think about it.” Though it was true—there were scouts at every game these days.

  “Must be pretty nice though. I bet everyone in this town knows who you are.”

  “Might be.” I shrugged and refused to let my racing, wild heart get the best of me. I needed calm right now more than ever.

  “Is that your truck over there?” She nodded toward where I was parked by the curb.

  “That’s mine, yeah.”

  “Pretty old and beat up. Distinctive, even.”

  “It’s all I can afford, but thanks for pointing that out.”

  She laughed kindly. “Don’t take it the wrong way. My car’s no better and I’m a full-time fucking detective.” She sighed and crossed her arms, trying to look casual. “Where were you February 9?”

  I made a face. “I have no clue. When was that?”

  “A few weeks back.”

  “I can check my calendar. What day of the week?”

  “It was a Tuesday.”

  “Probably getting tutored then. I get tutored on Tuesdays.”

  “Who’s your tutor? Can they confirm?”

  “Cora Boyle, and yeah, she can confirm.”

  If Detective Bates was surprised to hear Cora’s name, she didn’t show it. “And how late were you getting tutored?”

  “We started at like ten, so until midnight.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “No, but I pay her to act like it is.”

  “I see what you mean.” She grinned at me and winked. “I happen to know Cora. Pretty girl. I can confirm all this with her?”

  “Please do.”

  “All right, I will. And do you mind if I take pictures of your truck?”

  It was my turn to act a little put out. “I’m sorry, Detective, what’s all this for?”

  She didn’t look at me. She seemed as though she were thinking out loud, like this was off the cuff and not completely prepared ahead of time.

  “I’ve been looking into a murder. You heard about it? Some chiropractor killed in the woods. Stabbed right in the throat. Pretty brutal stuff.”

  “I hadn’t heard.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Really?”

  “I don’t read the news.”

  “Guess you wouldn’t. You young people never do.” She sighed and shook her head. “Anyway, you see, the thing is, and listen, Jarrod, I’ll admit that this is awkward, but a few guys claim to have seen an old beat-up truck just like your own park near the woods where the victim was found. They claim two people exited the vehicle—a big guy and a smaller girl. You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?”

  I went very quiet and very still.

  So that was my mistake. Those guys sitting on the stoop smoking weed. I thought they’d be too high to ID me, but apparently, I was wrong. Fucking bastards, the detective must’ve knocked on doors and lucked out when she found those stoners. They ratted on me, and now I was the prime suspect.

  Still, their evidence was shaky at best. If that was all they ha
d, we’d still be okay.

  I wasn’t going to let them take down Cora for this, no matter what. If it came to that, I’d take responsibility and claim I killed Silver alone, and that the stoners must’ve been high when they pictured a second person.

  I’d protect her with my life.

  “If you’re suggesting I had anything to do with a murder—”

  She put her hands up, shaking her head. “Now, that’s not what I said. I’m only saying, those guys, they recognized you, or they claim to have. You’re a popular kid in this town, you know? They say they saw you that night, and I don’t know what to make of it. Between us, they’re not exactly reliable.”

  “I don’t know what they think they saw, but I wasn’t anywhere near some woods that night. Like I said, I was getting tutored, and then I came home and went to sleep.”

  “All right, all right, I believe you. I’ll check into your story though, if you don’t mind. And get those pictures.”

  “Do what you need to do, Detective.”

  “Don’t worry too much about this. I’ve just got to follow every lead, even the ones that seem a little outlandish.” She laughed and shook her head. “I mean, why in the world would you want to kill a chiropractor?”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Good, good. You go back inside. Thank you so much for your time, Jarrod. I appreciate it.”

  “Of course, Detective Bates.”

  I lingered for a moment as she walked down the front steps then glanced back. She smiled, but there was something behind her eyes—she didn’t believe a word I said.

  She thought it was me.

  I went inside. Uncle Bernard was waiting for me in the kitchen. “What the hell did you do?” he snapped, looking furious.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying to me, boy. If you get arrested—”

  “If I get arrested, I’ll be just like my parents, right? I can start a rap sheet and maybe make it as long as theirs.”

  “What’s with you?” He shook his head, seething. He wanted to shout and threaten, but the detective was still nearby, which kept his tongue in check. “If you embarrass me, don’t think I won’t reconsider our arrangement.”

  “Go ahead and do me the favor.”

  He shook his head in disgust and left the room.

  I poured myself some coffee and stood at the sliding glass door overlooking the yard. I stared the grass and replayed that conversation in my head over and over.

  They had no leads. They had nothing except the word of some high idiots. That wouldn’t hold up in court and the detective knew it.

  But if someone else saw my truck that night? That would be a problem. And I was very sure she was going to take those photos and show them to everyone in that neighborhood.

  And she’d check with Cora.

  I needed to call her. We discussed this already—she knew what her story was if Detective Bates got in touch before I did—but I was afraid Cora would crack under pressure. She was strong and clever, but she was scared, and fear made people do dumb things.

  I finished my coffee then went upstairs to grab my burner.

  20

  Cora

  A detective named Bates stopped by. She thinks I killed Silver.

  His words played through my brain, over and over again, as Robyn drove us to campus the next day.

  Detective Bates called that night. I confirmed Jarrod’s story and played it as cool as I could, and she seemed to buy it. When we hung up, I ran into the bathroom and puked.

  I felt like my skin might melt off my body. I was jittery, shaking in my seat, bouncing from side to side.

  “What’s the matter? You look awful.” Robyn frowned at me as she parked.

  “Nervous for a test.”

  “Seriously? You never get nervous for tests.”

  “Guess there’s a first for everything.” I got out of the car.

  She followed. “If it’s something at home—”

  “It’s not. I’m fine.”

  “Okay, sure. And if it’s something with Jarrod—”

  “He’s fine too.”

  “Right. I’m here, if you want to talk, is what I was trying to say.”

  I softened a bit. She didn’t mean anything by her questions and I shouldn’t give her a hard time.

  “Thanks, but really, it’s just some stupid school stuff.”

  We walked together but split up to go to different classes. Jarrod texted my burner phone a few times, but I just ignored him. I couldn’t talk, not yet anyway.

  I had to get my head straight.

  Detective Bates was on to us. Those weed-smoking guys told her about the truck and they apparently recognized Jarrod. I didn’t know if she thought I was the second person with him that night, but she’d figure that out eventually. She must’ve suspected it, since I was his alibi, and nobody else could vouch for the two of us.

  I knew this was a possibility when I got started. I was ready to get caught—I was still ready to get caught—and I’d do my time in jail. Maybe I’d spend the rest of my life there, or I’d end up with the death penalty, but I had to be okay with it.

  I made my choice.

  The problem was, Jarrod made me think we’d get away with it. I was beginning to see a future for myself again—in fits and starts, in bits and pieces, but it was there.

  Jarrod made me feel like I had a path forward. He was the reason my world began to open up again as I struggled to swim out from under the years and years of hate and anger and selfishness. I was so used to dreaming about killing Dr. Silver that I didn’t know what to do with myself now that we’d pulled it off.

  But Jarrod showed me the way. He made me feel something I never imagined. He gave me hope that there was more to life than suffering and pain—there could be pleasure, too.

  More pleasure than I ever thought possible.

  Except now that might be taken away. Hope regained, only to be dashed on the rocks.

  Detective Bates was going to figure it out.

  I wanted to scream.

  Jarrod: Text me back. We have to talk.

  Jarrod: Freak. We need to talk. You can ignore me all you want, but it doesn’t change anything.

  Jarrod: I’m not going to let anything bad happen.

  I wished that were true. I desperately wanted to believe him.

  But I didn’t think it was.

  I was losing my mind. I kept picturing my life in prison, locked away from Jarrod for years and years. Maybe I could get a sympathetic jury—play up the victim stuff—but I’d still rot in jail. Murder for a good reason was still murder.

  And I was a killer, even if it wasn’t my hand that plunged the knife.

  Jarrod: You can’t do this alone, freak.

  Jarrod: You need me, just like I need you.

  Jarrod: Answer me, baby girl.

  I hated that he was right.

  I managed to avoid him all day. Back at home, I collapsed in my room and curled up on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut. I wanted to hide and wait for all this to disappear, but I knew that wouldn’t happen, and it would only make things worse.

  A knock at my door. “Yeah?”

  Sam stepped inside. “Hey, you doing okay?”

  I sat up and forced myself to smile. “I’m great. What about you?”

  “You look like crap.” He sat down at my desk, straddling the chair backwards.

  “You know you’re not supposed to say that to a girl, right?”

  “Whatever. You’re not a girl. You’re my sister.”

  I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m fine. Just school stuff.”

  “Robyn texted me. She said she’s worried so I thought I’d check in.”

  I laughed. Good old Robyn. She could see through my bullshit like glass on a clear day. “You have your own problems. You don’t need mine.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, staring down at the floor. I saw the depth of his emotional turmoil roiling below the surface and I wished I could reach in
there and pull him out of all that noise. He looked back up and forced a sad smile.

  “I know all about keeping it locked up. I’m just saying, you’ve been good to me all these days. You’ve always been there. So if you need someone, I’m there for you, too.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” I said, trying not to get emotional. My little brother was growing up.

  “Anyway, Jarrod’s outside.” He stood up so casually I thought I might scream.

  “Excuse me? He’s what?”

  “Outside. Parked a few minutes ago. I figured I’d make sure he wasn’t the reason for whatever’s going on before I told you.”

  “And if he was?”

  “I’d send him away.”

  I laughed at the idea of Sam telling Jarrod to do anything, but Sam definitely wasn’t joking.

  I loved my little brother so much in that moment.

  “Jarrod’s not the problem,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll go out and talk to him.”

  “Cool. Uh, tell him good luck in his next game from me, I guess. It’s weird you’re spending time with Jarrod Hale. Are you two dating?”

  “Sam.”

  “Right, okay. Later.” He disappeared back into his room.

  I got up and hurried outside before Mom and Dad noticed Jarrod’s truck. I climb into the passenger seat and he turned to me, his face drawn into an intense stare, half desire and half anger, a twisted smirk on his handsome lips. He wore gym clothes like he’d just gotten out from football practice, and his hair and skin were still damp with sweat. His musk was heavy and intoxicating.

  “You’ve been ignoring me.”

  I didn’t try to deny it. “I wasn’t ready to talk.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

  He killed the truck’s engine. We were parked halfway between my house and the neighbor—a nice old widow named Mrs. McCloud. She kept her yard immaculate and her front door always had a new wreath every month, all year round.

  “I’m not going to let that detective throw us in a cage for what we did.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.”

  “Believe me, freak. I’m only getting started.”

  I let out a frustrated laugh. “Why do you always act like you know what you’re doing? I keep thinking about it, and I’m pretty sure you’re making it all up as you go.”