Black Promises: A Dark New Adult Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “You’re not wrong,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you down.”

  That got my heart rate racing. “Why do you think this is all on you? I knew what I was doing when I got involved in this. I was the one that started everything, remember?”

  He looked at me quietly. That stare always made the small hairs on my arms stand up with fear and expectation. Sometimes I forgot how big Jarrod was—he was a hulking human, a monstrosity of a man, and he could rip me into pieces if he really wanted. I was trapped in a truck with a murderer, and I should’ve been so much more frightened.

  Instead, the thought only made the dark places between my legs trill with need.

  He shifted closer, head tilted, studying my lips.

  “When you came to me, killing Silver was only a dream. I made everything happen, from the very first move to the last strike of the knife. If it weren’t for me, we would’ve spent years talking about it, and nothing ever would’ve happened.”

  “You can’t actually know that.”

  “You never would’ve done it, freak. You think you’re a stone-cold murderer, but you’re not.” He leaned closer. I moved back toward the window, shrinking away from the intensity of his voice. “I’m the monster in this truck. I’m the one that gets off on violence and blood. You think you’re into it, but you’re a fucking tourist.”

  “You don’t know me.” I felt my anger rise again. It only made him smile. “You think you’re so smart, even though you pretend like you’re some big, dumb jock. Which one’s true then? Which are you?”

  “I’m whatever you want me to be.”

  “I think you’re full of shit. I think you don’t know what you are so you fill up all your wounds with anger and hate. Isn’t that why you get in so many fights?”

  “I fight because it quiets the voices in my head.”

  “The voices that are only there because you don’t have anything else to quiet them.”

  His teeth clenched. “You have no clue what you’re saying.”

  “I don’t? Enlighten me then.”

  “I lost my junkie parents at ten. I moved into my abusive fucking uncle’s house and took beating after beating so Robyn wouldn’t have to. I’ve been the worthless piece of shit in that house for as long as I can remember. You think you know what it’s like to be me? You have no fucking clue.”

  “Poor big, rich, handsome man,” I said mockingly, shaking my head in pity. I did feel sorry for him—I hated his uncle for abusing him for so long—but I wouldn’t let him deflect. “You’re a king at Blackwoods. You can take anything you want whenever you want it, and that’s still not enough.”

  His hand shot out and grabbed my hair. I gasped, arched my back, and struggled, but he pinned me back against the door, practically crawling across the console to keep me in place.

  “You don’t know me.”

  I was breathing fast and hard. God, I wanted him to push harder. I wanted him to make it hurt.

  He kissed me hard, lips bruising mine.

  I bit him. He growled and fisted my hair tighter. I gasped as he kissed my neck, my ear, bit my shoulder. I moaned into those kisses, those bites, as he moved the hand that wasn’t pulling my hair down the front of my body. He cupped my breasts, teasing me through my shirt, which only made me gasp and roll my hips, trying to push myself against him.

  He slid a hand down to my jeans, unbuttoned the top, and pushed his fingers down on top of my panties.

  I moaned and bit his lip hard. He grunted in pain, shoved my panties aside, and slid two fingers inside of me hard.

  It hurt and felt like heaven all at once. I threw my head back and banged against the window. He bit my chin, my lower lip, and fucked me with his fingers before teasing my clit in soft and excruciating circles.

  “This is what you love to do, isn’t it?” he growled in my ear. “You push me, push me, push me, until I finally explode and take it out on your pretty pink pussy.”

  “I want you to fuck me,” I huffed, moaning. “I want you to get it over with. Fuck me like you promised. Give me what I want.”

  “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. I’ll fuck you when I’ve finished teasing you.” He shoved me back against the window hard and pulled my hips toward him. I gasped as he tugged down my jeans, my ass practically in the cupholder. He shoved my panties aside again, revealing my slick, wet pussy as he gripped my hips and pressed his mouth hard against my swollen clit.

  I shoved my hands against the door and let out a wild moan of pleasure and excitement. He licked me, sucked me, slid fingers inside of me. It was awkward and cramped and, god, it felt so fucking good I couldn’t care less where we were. I knew it was dangerous—we were so close to my house and the neighbors might see—but I couldn’t stop this even if I tried.

  He had me and wasn’t going to release me until I gave him what he wanted.

  I grabbed his hair hard. He lips and tongue did their work and sent wild, incredible waves of pleasure through my hips and spine. I was vaguely aware of the truck’s center console digging into my ass but didn’t really care about anything but Jarrod and the intensity with which he lapped me up like a treat.

  I wondered if he’d ever fuck me. I craved it, god, I wanted it so badly—he’d built it up into epic proportions, and some stupid voice in the back of my head wondered if it could ever live up to his claims—but now I knew that yes, god, yes, yes, it could, it absolutely could.

  If he could make me feel like this with his lips and tongue in an uncomfortable front seat of a truck then he could do things to my body that I’d never pictured before given a bed and some privacy.

  And yet he still hadn’t. Any time he wanted it, any opportunity, any day or night, all he had to do was claim his right and I’d throw myself at him. He said he wanted me begging—but I felt like I’d already given him enough.

  Maybe he didn’t want to go through with it. Not because he didn’t want me—no, he wanted me, I could see it every time he looked at me, that crazy wild burning mindless want gazing back through those incredibly handsome eyes—but because once he finally did, the contract would be fulfilled, and it would be over.

  He wanted to tease me, to string it out for as long as possible.

  I didn’t know how I felt about that.

  Wanted? Desired? Sexy and incredible and angry and everything else.

  Above all, confused.

  Why not fuck me? Have his pleasure and be done with it?

  That was Jarrod’s normal style.

  I wasn’t anything special. I was just another girl—his cousin’s best friend and nothing more.

  And yet he didn’t want this to end.

  The thought sent another wild shiver down my spine as he slid his fingers deep while he sucked and rolled his tongue around my clit. He supported my lower body with his right hand—his bicep bulging—while his left fucked me and his lips did their work. The windows of the truck fogged and my hands pressed against the glass, and the only words that left my mouth were his name, repeated again and again, like a mantra, like a song.

  I wanted him to want me. I needed it—got off on it.

  But the teasing could only last so long.

  And as I felt the orgasm build and build and build, I wondered why did it have to end? Why did it ever have to end?

  I came in a wild, gasping, moaning puddle. I came on his fingers, in his mouth, and he grunted with pleasure and joy. I finished and lay there panting, sweating and breathless, as he licked me clean then sucked his fingers.

  I pulled up my panties and he kissed my lips. I tasted myself—sweet and deep.

  “I keep wanting to ask you something, but I don’t know how to say it.” I touched his face and felt slight stubble on his cheek.

  “You can ask me anything.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t take it well.”

  “Now’s the time, baby girl, while I can still taste you.”

  I chewed on my lip. “Are you holding back because you don’t w
ant this to end?”

  His lips quirked. “Would that be so bad?”

  “I don’t know.” I felt my cheeks burning. I looked down. I never imagined Jarrod of all people would want more from me after he had the one thing that mattered—my virginity.

  He tilted my chin up.

  “I’ll admit that the thought occurred to me several times,” he said softly, and kissed my lips gently. “Once you’ve fulfilled your obligation to me, this can all be finished. You can walk away.”

  “I might not want to.” I felt dizzy from the orgasm and from the words that came out next: “You could ask me not to.”

  A complicated series of emotions flashed across his face. Excitement and desire—but also fear.

  “You don’t know what you want. You’re high on that orgasm right now.”

  “Yes, I definitely am, but I’m not incapacitated.”

  “Then I didn’t do my job right.” He frowned and glanced down. “Better fix that.”

  I brushed his hands away, smiling. “Listen to me. We’ve been through a lot in a short time and I feel like you know me better than anyone ever has, even Robyn.” She knew that something happened between me and my parents, but not the details—which meant Jarrod knew more than she did.

  “I feel the same way about you, freak.” He kissed me again. “But you watched me murder a man. How could you want more from a monster like that?”

  I felt a sudden onrush of desperation. “If you’re a monster and not worth loving, then the same applies to me.”

  His eyebrows raised and I realized my mistake.

  Loving.

  I shouldn’t have said that word. It just came out—and made sense in the context, but it overstated how I felt.

  Or did it?

  Truth was, I’d never been in love before. I had no clue how it was supposed to feel. If TV and movies and songs and books were all right, then it should feel like a giddy, crazy, wild, speeding-train sort of rush headfirst into deep addiction.

  More or less the way that I was feeling for Jarrod.

  But he was right. I watched him kill a person. We were intimately bound together, our sin and sex mingled. Was I really falling for him, or was I just confused by the situation?

  I almost regretted saying anything. If I hadn’t, then I never would’ve considered any of this.

  If he heard that word and the same ideas flashed through his brain, he gave no indication. Instead, he only sighed and shook his head.

  “You’re a lot better than I’ll ever be, freak. You wanted revenge for what he did to you. I plunged the knife into his throat so I could fuck you.”

  “That’s not the only reason you did it.”

  “I killed him because he deserved to die.”

  “Then you’re not just some mindless murdering psychopath. You killed for a good reason. Are you going to run around and do it again?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly, which wasn’t a no.

  I let that hang in the air for a few seconds before he leaned back in his seat and sighed.

  I looked out my window toward the house I grew up in. Clean navy shutters, trimmed bushes, cut grass. The trees were bare and skeletal, but in the spring, they’d sprout big leaves that bristled in the wind.

  It was a tidy house. Clean and nice and cozy. It didn’t stand out, but it didn’t blend in, either.

  Just like my parents. Just like my whole existence.

  This thing with Jarrod, it was the first important decision I ever made. Before that night, I was a walking zombie, full of dreams and rage but otherwise worthless.

  Now I felt as though I could be something more.

  Was it so wrong then? Were we so lost?

  “I don’t feel like I’m the same person I was when we first met.” I spoke quietly, as if someone might hear, or the words might run away. “Does that make any sense?”

  “I completely understand.”

  “So what we did, it can’t be that wrong. Dannis Silver deserved what he got. You’re not lost. I’m not either.”

  “I hope you’re right, freak.”

  His smile was sad. Beautiful, but sad.

  I opened the door. “I’m going back inside.”

  “We haven’t talked about the detective.”

  “She called. My story matched yours. She seemed satisfied.”

  “She won’t be.”

  “I know that.” I got out and shut the door.

  He rolled down the window. “We’ll meet tomorrow on campus.”

  “All right,” I said, feeling exhausted. “Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself. Or if you promise to take it all the way next time.”

  His lips quirked.

  “All right, baby girl. The next time I touch you, I swear I’ll fuck you. How’s that? Do you feel better?”

  I didn’t, not at all.

  “Goodnight, Jarrod.” I walked back to the house.

  His truck fired up and pulled away.

  My burner buzzed as I reached the door. I hesitated but took it out, figuring it was Jarrod getting the last word.

  Instead, it was a number I didn’t recognize.

  3135555: Meet me outside of Wawa near campus at midnight.

  Cora: Who the heck is this???

  3135555: Calvin.

  I dropped the phone. It clattered to the ground. The cheap glass screen was spider-webbed and cracked.

  Calvin had my burner number.

  How the hell did Calvin have my burner number?

  I fumbled with my broken phone.

  Cora: Okay. Midnight at Wawa.

  He didn’t reply again.

  21

  Cora

  I rode my bike while wrapped in a heavy black down jacket with thick gloves on my hands and a scarf tied around my face. I blinked back tears from the bitter, freezing wind, as I pedaled toward campus.

  I had to leave at like 11:30 to make it by midnight. There wasn’t much traffic, and I coasted down the ghost-like streets toward Blackwoods campus, cursing myself the whole time, and promising that I’d never, ever, ever get involved with another Horseman as long as I lived.

  The Wawa was open twenty-four-seven and located on a corner across the street from the campus’s main gates. The administration would never let a lowly place such as Wawa within the actual proximity of the college itself, but students practically kept the place in business. They showed up late night to eat bad sandwiches and buy cigarettes and hang around in the parking lot like loitering teens. The Wawa was like the second most popular place, after that cheap bar a couple blocks over that never checked IDs.

  I parked my bike and looked around. There weren’t many students, just a small group of drunk girls laughing loudly with each other, and several guys waiting for sandwiches. I didn’t see Calvin anywhere, and paced across the front sidewalk, toward the side of the building. The shadows were deep back there, and I drifted into them, thinking I could hide from this—and avoid the confrontation I truly didn’t want to have.

  Except when I turned to look over my shoulder, there he was, lingering in the parking lot like a demon.

  I leaned my bike against the wall and waited as he approached. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans with the hood pulled up. If I weren’t expecting him, I might not have recognized him. He stopped a few paces across from me, hands shoved in his pouched, and tilted his chin up toward the light.

  He stared at me with dead eyes.

  “Let’s walk.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but he strode off. I cursed and had to decide: bring the bike or leave it. I hurried after him, hoping nobody would take it.

  He cut across the street and toward campus.

  “Wait up.” I jogged until I was level with him. “What are we doing?”

  He didn’t answer. We cut down the main gate and made a right onto the grass and into the line of trees that blocked the outside world from the little paradise that was Blackwoods. Campus was an oasis in the middle of town, its own little kingdom s
eparated from the real world. Most of the time, I loved it—I could pretend like I was attending Hogwarts or something—but right now it scared the hell out of me.

  I was very much alone with Calvin and I didn’t know what he wanted.

  Worst-case scenarios played through my head.

  He wanted to kill me. He wanted to blackmail me. He wanted to use me to hurt Jarrod.

  Calvin stopped and turned back, hands still shoved in his pouch.

  I stopped a few feet away, afraid of getting any closer.

  “How did you get that number?” I asked the first question that popped into my mind.

  He pulled back his hood and ran a hand through his hair.

  “I stole Jarrod’s phone.” He said it like it was no big deal.

  “That’s crazy. I thought you were his friend.”

  “Jarrod’s idea of friendship is slightly twisted.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Calvin’s lips pressed together. “He keeps things from the rest of us. Burner phones, decoy laptops. He likes to compartmentalize.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re not the first girl he bought a burner for.”

  My mouth opened then snapped shut. “I don’t care who he used to fuck.”

  “I guess you wouldn’t, since that’s not what you two are doing.”

  I sucked in a breath and tried not to panic. He might not know.

  “What am I doing out here?”

  “You killed Dannis Silver. You and Jarrod.”

  Okay, he definitely knew.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. Deny it? Run away? Kick him in the crotch and scream?

  Instead, I threw my hands up, because I was freaking tired of pretending. “And so the hell what? You’re not supposed to know that.”

  His face twitched. “I thought you’d deny it.”

  “I’m not going to. You clearly read the texts. Do you know why we did it?”

  “I have some guesses.”

  “Dannis Silver deserved what he got. I don’t think Jarrod would’ve helped me otherwise.”