Black Promises: A Dark New Adult Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Sure, whatever you’re having.”

  He returned a minute later with a glass. “Japanese whiskey. Better than the shit they make here.”

  “More expensive too.” I accepted the glass and sipped it. Tasted like whiskey to me. “Cora’s a decent person.”

  He sat back down. “I never said she wasn’t.”

  “You probably think she’s leading me down a dangerous path, but I was already on this road long before she showed up.”

  “I wonder about that.”

  I snorted, sipped my drink. “I’ve been getting into fights for fun. Taking pain, dishing it out. Football’s good, but it’s not enough.”

  “We’ve all noticed. Des thinks you just like to show off how strong you are. Addler thinks you have a secret death wish because of what happened to your parents.”

  “Addler’s a shitty psychologist,” I said, bristling.

  “I agree. They’re both wrong. You’re not suicidal and you don’t want attention.” He leaned toward me, eyes suddenly alive. “You’re like me. You live for the thrill.”

  I went very still and quiet as I sat in that overly expensive living room.

  The thrill. That was one way of putting it. We’d never talked about this before—not in so many words at least. I knew Calvin liked pain as much as I did, though he expressed himself in different ways. He preferred to dish it out than to receive it, while I was an equal opportunity sadist. Anything was good enough for me, so long as it left a mark.

  We’d never said so out loud before, and the sudden turn made me uncomfortable. It made me feel seen, and I didn’t like that.

  “Maybe that’s true,” I said carefully. “But it doesn’t change anything. You crossed a line when you went through my shit.”

  “All right, I’ll admit that I broke some trust. I won’t do it again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I think you’re wrong about something. I don’t think you would’ve killed if Cora hadn’t given you the opportunity.”

  I tapped my finger against the glass. “You don’t know that.”

  “You like to fight. You like to hurt. But killing is a whole different thing.” He grinned at me, and I guessed he knew a thing or two about killing.

  “I could’ve turned her down, but I didn’t want to.”

  “Because you’re attracted to her.”

  I grunted in response and threw back the drink. “You’re damn right I am. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt this way.”

  “First time ever?”

  I hesitated before nodding once. “I didn’t know it would turn out like this from the start.”

  “But now you can’t help it.”

  “That’s right. Which is why I’m telling you to lay off her. She’s going through enough.”

  “Consider her forgotten, if that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and sat on the edge of the chair, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. I placed the glass on the coffee table and met his eye. “Now I need a favor.”

  He tilted his head. “What’s that?”

  “I know your family’s connected. I need you to procure something for me from the local police department.”

  “I’m not sure I could do something like that.”

  “I have a feeling you’d be surprised. Doesn’t your dad sell military-style equipment to the cops?”

  “Not exactly.” He shifted, uncomfortable all of a sudden. Any mention of his family did that. “Even if he did, my father is my father, he’s not me.”

  “I know, but you’re the only person I know who has a remote shot at making this happen.”

  A long silence fell over the room. I heard the ticking of several antique clocks and wondered how much each movement of its gears cost. Hundreds of dollars? Thousands? So much of this stuff was priceless, and yet Calvin lived amongst it like it was normal for a college kid to have all this stuff.

  “What exactly do you need?” he asked very slowly and deliberately.

  I explained it as quickly as I could. When I finished, he leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs.

  “Releasing these documents could help us,” I said drumming my fingers on the coffee table for emphasis. “It’ll make Silver less sympathetic, at least.”

  “It’s a good move if we can make it happen.”

  “That’s what I need you for. There’s got to be someone in that police station willing to leak the files. Even if it’s just a document or two, it would be enough, so long as it proves Dannis Silver was a pedophile sicko.”

  Calvin wiped his face. I’d rarely seen him agitated, but he was very uncomfortable now.

  “I can help you,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, then down to meet my eyes. “But there will be a price.”

  I leaned back in my chair as relief washed over me. “Anything.”

  “Think hard before you agree, Jarrod. You know I don’t care about money. I’m going to ask something else of you.”

  “If it’s something that I can give, then I’ll do it.”

  He nodded and let out a breath. “I’ll make some calls then. I know people that are involved in this sort of thing and might be able to bribe the proper people.”

  “I need this as fast as you can move. I don’t know how long that detective will hold off.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  I stood up, grinning. “Thank you, Calvin. You’re a good friend, even if your methods are a little insane.” I walked to the door, practically floating on air. My plan was coming together, and although nothing was for certain yet, at least I was making progress.

  But before I could leave, Calvin called my name. “You haven’t heard what I want from you yet.”

  I paused with my hand on the knob. “What is it?”

  “I want your cousin. I want Robyn.”

  My hand fell away and I stared at him.

  I didn’t know what to say. So I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  “What the hell would you want with her?”

  He grimaced slightly, like I’d slapped him in the face, but I still couldn’t understand what he meant by that.

  Calvin was handsome and obscenely wealthy. He was a star football player and a member of the Horsemen. He fucked what he wanted when he wanted—and it made no sense that he’d have any interest in my dorky cousin.

  His eyes met mine again and something flashed behind them.

  Something dangerous.

  “If you want my help, you’ll pay the price.”

  “I don’t know what you mean though. You want Robyn? Am I supposed to get her to fuck you? Because I don’t have that kind of control.”

  His nose scrunched up. “That’s not what I mean. I want you to set her up with me. And if she were to disappear—”

  “Disappear?” I asked incredulously.

  “—If she were to disappear, you’d cover for the both of us. Do you understand?”

  Calvin’s gaze burrowed into me and I felt like an ant beneath his boot. He had the power to belittle a person with his gaze and it was striking the way he utilized it to get what he wanted. I sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out as my mind worked circled.

  I spent half my life getting beaten so Robyn didn’t have to. I protected her because it was the right thing to do. She was a decent person—maybe one of the few real, uncorrupted souls I knew. She went through her fair share of abuse and trauma at the hands of her father, but she came out of it with a strange, buoyant lightness.

  Calvin wanted her for something twisted and wrong—something I might regret.

  But I needed his help, and I trusted him.

  “Will you hurt her?”

  “Yes, but only if she asks me to.”

  “Will you let her go if she wants to leave?”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  I banged a fist against the door. He had me trapped and he knew it. I’d never agree to something like this without talking t
o Robyn first under any other circumstances—but Calvin had me.

  I needed him badly.

  “All right. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If you kill her, or hurt her, or mistreat her—”

  “I don’t intend on doing any of that.”

  “I don’t care how much money your daddy makes, Solar. I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you. I’ve done it once and I can do it again.”

  He smiled at me. “I believe you.”

  I left his house and sat in my truck.

  I thought I was a monster. My hands were covered in blood, and my dreams revolved around fucking my partner in crime—

  But Calvin was something else.

  Something worse.

  Oh, god, Robyn, what the hell have I done?

  24

  Cora

  I woke up to pounding on my door.

  It was Sam. He stared at me, breathless and practically glowing. “It leaked.”

  He didn’t need to explain. I knew what he meant. “When?”

  “I saw it online just now. And it’s on the news.”

  “Are Mom and Dad watching?”

  “Mom is, I don’t know where Dad’s at.”

  “I’ll be down in a second.”

  He practically skipped away down the stairs.

  I got up and dressed. I checked my phone—no messages from Jarrod.

  But there didn’t need to be any.

  He did this.

  I was sure of it. The police wouldn’t have leaked this information on their own, not until they made an arrest at least.

  This was all Jarrod. I had no clue how he managed something so audacious, but he pulled it off, and I had to admit that I was immeasurably impressed.

  I headed downstairs and poured coffee. Sam and Mom sat in front of the television, staring at the news anchor standing outside of Dr. Silver’s house talking about the murder, the investigation, and above all, the leaked memos showing that the supposedly fine, upstanding member of the community was in fact a serial pedophile and molester.

  I stood behind the couch, sipped my drink, and tried to savor this moment.

  Instead, I only felt bitter and drained.

  For so long I wanted the world to know the truth about that man. He ruined me, ruined Sam, and ruined so many countless other victims. We existed in the dark, ignored and brutalized, and now the world would finally hear the truth that’d been tossed aside so many times.

  My mom didn’t look back at me, and I didn’t need her to.

  I should’ve gloated. This was my vindication. She called me a liar back then, and this was proof that I was telling the truth. She should’ve been horrified—and probably was—but it didn’t matter.

  I felt hollow and exhausted.

  I sat down at the kitchen table and sipped my coffee, looking out the window.

  Sam joined me. Mom stayed on the couch.

  “She’s crying,” he said softly, too quiet for her to hear. The news kept going on and on about Dr. Silver.

  “That’s sad.”

  “I think she feels terrible about, you know. Not believing you.”

  “She should.” But my anger wasn’t there. Normally, it would’ve glowed hot and bright, but it was only a quiet, defeated smolder.

  I got my revenge already. I watched Dr. Silver die in that forest.

  Everything else was just desperation.

  “I can’t imagine how she must feel. All these years, she was convinced you were making it up. And now she knows.”

  I sighed and leaned forward. “What good will it do?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it won’t do anything.” Sam leaned forward and reached out, grabbing my hand. “Will you forgive them?”

  “Not Dad.”

  “But Mom?”

  I looked at the back of her head. Her shoulders were shaking slightly.

  I pulled away from him and stood. I walked over and sat down on the couch, then shifted closer. Mom’s face was smeared with tears, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She must’ve been crying for a while. She stared at me and her lips curled down. She looked so old, so frail, and so filled with sorrow.

  I moved closer, put my hand on her arm.

  “Sweetie,” she said and her voice broke.

  I hugged her tightly. She hugged me back, and we both cried.

  It was cathartic. I didn’t think it would be—but god, crying with my mom, her arms wrapped around me, for a few minutes I felt like a little girl again. She was my mother, my protector, and I felt so safe. All these years I’d been like an orphan, my safety net ripped out from underneath me, left adrift in life. Even though my parents were alive, I never felt like they were on my side.

  For the duration of the hug, I had my mom again.

  We broke apart. She wiped my tears, and though I didn’t hate her, I knew we could never be like we were when I was little. That possibility had disappeared a long time ago.

  But maybe we could be something else.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I know. It’ll be okay.”

  “We didn’t realize. I’m so sorry.”

  I hugged her one more time before my phone began to ring.

  I left her there and grabbed it from the table.

  “I’m coming to get you.” Jarrod’s voice was like a balm for my frayed nerves. “Let’s skip class.”

  “How’d you do it?” I whispered, moving into the dining room, away from Sam and my mom.

  “I have my ways. Go pack a bag.”

  “My mom’s a mess. Sam seems like he’s happy though.”

  “Good. I hope this helps him.”

  “I think it will. I don’t even know what to say to him.”

  “Maybe one day, you can tell him the truth. Now go pack a bag. I’ll be at your house in ten minutes.”

  “Does Robyn know not to come get me?”

  “I already told her.”

  “I’ll see you then.” I felt a strange thrill in my chest as I hung up the phone and hurried upstairs.

  I threw clothes into a bag. I barely paid attention to what I was grabbing. Enough for a day or two at least. I packed toiletries, hair stuff, whatever I’d need, and made it downstairs with a couple minutes to spare.

  “I’m heading out for the weekend,” I said, standing near the front door.

  My mom looked over with a frown. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “For the weekend?”

  “I’m going to stay with Robyn. I just need a little time away.”

  Mom nodded. I could tell it hurt, but she didn’t argue. “Have fun. Can we talk when you get back?”

  “We can, I promise. I’ll be home Sunday morning.”

  I walked out front and stood in the driveway with my bag over my shoulder. I could miss a Friday—I rarely skipped class and one miss wouldn’t be a big deal. I drifted toward the street then stopped.

  My dad’s car was idling nearby.

  He sat there behind the wheel staring off into the distance. I didn’t move, afraid that he’d see me. I didn’t know what he was doing home—he should’ve been at work. But he just sat there, staring, not moving, the car running, and I wanted to escape, only there wasn’t anywhere to go. Jarrod would be here soon and when he pulled up, Dad would notice, and he wouldn’t be happy.

  I walked toward his car and knocked on the window.

  He jumped, blinking, and looked at me. He rolled down the window.

  “Hey, honey.”

  I frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

  He laughed awkwardly and looked down at himself like he was only just realizing that sitting in his car in the street looked kind of crazy.

  “Thinking.”

  “Okay, right. Why are you thinking here?”

  He met my eyes. “I heard about Dr. Silver on the news.”

  I let that sink in. Silence stretched. I adjusted my bag.

  “Mom’s upset,” I said finally. “You should talk t
o her.”

  “I will.”

  Another silence. I wanted to scream.

  “I’m heading out for the weekend.”

  “Okay. I hope you have fun.” No argument. No questions. He stared at me for another few seconds before gripping the steering wheel. He looked away, straight at the road. “We were wrong back then, weren’t we? You didn’t lie.”

  “No, Dad, I really didn’t.”

  He nodded to himself. “All right. We were wrong.”

  If I expected some big, beautiful moment, where my father finally came to me and apologized and begged for forgiveness, it wasn’t going to happen. That much was obvious. His face hardened and his lips flattened, and I knew that was the best I would get.

  Jarrod’s truck pulled up and parked nearby. Dad glanced over.

  “That’s my ride. I’ll be back Sunday morning.”

  “Be safe. Make good choices.”

  I watched him carefully. “You’re not going to say anything?”

  “Cora, I don’t think I have the right anymore.”

  With that, he rolled his window up. I watched him pull out and drive slowly away.

  I walked to Jarrod’s truck and got inside. He frowned at me and put a hand on my leg. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “That was really weird. My dad didn’t apologize, but he admitted he was wrong, and said he doesn’t have the right to tell me what to do anymore.”

  Jarrod squeezed gently. “That’s probably his way of saying sorry.”

  “I guess so.” I shook my head and tried to push my dad out of my mind. I turned to Jarrod after clicking in my seatbelt. “So where are you taking me?”

  “That’s a surprise.” He put the truck in gear.

  “And how did you manage to leak those documents?”

  “That’s a secret.”

  “Jarrod,” I said, voice warning.

  He laughed and pulled forward. “I’ll tell you after we get there, okay? I promise.”

  “Fine.” I leaned back in my set and looked at the roof.

  There were no trumpets. No singing angels. Another moment there and gone. I wished I could hold on to the look on my father’s face as he drove off, half twisted agony, half deep-seated sorrow, but it was only in my memory now, and would slowly fade.

  But it happened. That would never change. Ephemeral or not—it happened. I could hold onto that at least.