Sudden Flames (Sweet Promise #2)

by Shanora Williams

  Not that he told me to stop, I just knew it was hurting him to see me that way. But maybe if I’d kept crying, kept calling out to my deceased son, then maybe I would have forgiven Griffin. Maybe I never would have fallen out of love with him.

  Maybe, just maybe, we could still have a fighting chance.

  But as I lay here in this bed, going over all those years of heartache, all those years of coldness and disconnect, I realize one thing—Griffin and I will never be the same. His affair doesn’t matter, and neither does mine. The affairs are pointless, really. Just another reason to show how little we care for one another.

  Our world, as we know it, is over.

  It’s only a matter of time now before we’re officially done with this shit.

  Chapter Nine

  Griffin

  I can’t seem to focus.

  My concentration is elsewhere, too occupied with thoughts of Colette and her plot of a fucked-up pregnancy, and Angelina.

  I haven’t heard from Angelina in three days. Maybe she reconsidered it all.

  I’m at work, Kelly coming in and out with the reports, letting me know how well Quarter is running.

  Steven has been hounding me about the fall banquet, so after choosing the top thirty people to invite, along with their spouses and the possibility of their personal assistants, I send the list over to Kelly.

  I gather all of my things, organizing them in my briefcase and then shutting off my computer.

  As I depart, I tell Kelly to get the invites sent out by morning because, after all, the banquet is in less than a month.

  These people are busy, schedules booked up, calendars full. They have to be told months in advance, but it’s me. Griffin Boyd. Their broker. They always show up.

  I’m in the elevator and soon in the lobby. I toss a few goodbyes to some employees and then hit the deck, unlocking my car as I meet it.

  As I grip the doorknob, I hear footsteps behind me.

  They are quick, rushed, and I can tell the person is stumbling as they try to get close to me.

  Then there is a voice, a familiar one that angrily shouts my name. “Griffin!”

  Swinging my door open, I toss my briefcase across to the passenger seat and then spin around, coming face to face with Gabriel Adams.

  His eyes are wide, his suit worn and undone at the collar, his car keys clutched in hand. I can see his car parked across the deck.

  “Oh, Gabriel.” I fold my arms as he stops less than a foot away. “What are you doing here?”

  “You know why I’m here!” he barks.

  I look at him strangely, fighting a sneer. “Do I really?”

  “You fucking son of a bitch! You got me fired!” He rushes for me, gripping my collar, but I shove him away in an instant, rage consuming me.

  I was pretty content, ready to handle this like adults, but no one puts their hands on me. No fucking one.

  “Yes, Gabriel,” I snap, peering at him. “I did get you fired. I snatched you right out of that good job that I also helped you get! Lately it seems all I fucking do is help and in the end I’m the one who’s burned. Fucking my wife,” I growl, head shaking. “Lying right to my fucking face. Acting like everything is A-fucking-OK. You should be glad I haven’t fucking killed you yet.”

  “I can’t control what Colette wants,” he snaps back. “I love her too—”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up! Just shut the fuck up! You don’t love her—you can’t love her because if she respected you—if she actually fucking loved you—she never would have told me about her affair. No matter how pissed she gets.

  “She’s not stupid, Gabriel. If she loved you she wouldn’t have risked it. Not unless she knew she’d have to let you go after I found out. She was ready to drop your ass, Gabriel. Don’t get so fucking happy about it. You didn’t win a fucking gold medal. You didn’t get her to slip away from me—hell if anything she’s stuck to me like glue now.”

  He breathes raggedly through his nostrils, fists balled. I can hear my voice echoing through the parking deck, loud and infuriated.

  “That’s not true,” he breathes.

  I shake my head, laughing as I step back, placing a hand on my hip. “Let me ask you something, Gabriel.” I cock my head as I stare him right in the eyes. “Has she—has she called you since you told her about Angelina? Has she even bothered to come see you?”

  He blinks rapidly, his gaze immediately darting down to the ground.

  I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes as I try to catch his. “No?”

  “No,” he mutters.

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “Look, she doesn’t call or see me every day, all right? She likes her space, something you should fucking know by now!”

  “Oh, I know she likes her space and I give her plenty of it. Let me tell you why she hasn’t called.” I step forward, practically nose-to-nose with him, so close I’m sure he can feel the heat tunneling through my veins. “She hasn’t called—she hasn’t even thought of you—because she wants my fucking baby again. She wants to try again. We settled our differences. We are moving forward. The only way that happens is if we drop everyone that doesn’t matter.”

  He swallows hard. “I don’t believe you.”

  “No?” I fold my arms. “Well how about you call her, see if she picks up.”

  He immediately reaches for his cellphone, fishing it out of his pockets. And like a fool he calls her, the phone fastened to his ear, his gloom so apparent I want to slap the foolishness right out of him.

  After several rings he sluggishly lowers his phone, sliding it back into his pocket as he staggers backwards. “I—I just don’t get it.”

  “Go home, Gabriel. Get your shit together while you still can. And get over Colette. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t get how you could get me fired.”

  “Because I’m tired of people thinking I’m weak.”

  “So that means get me fired!? Who else will represent you like me, Griffin, huh?”

  I shrug. “I can find anyone to represent me. Gabriel, I do what I have to do in order to win. I’m done losing. And you fucking around with Colette is a true low. You can’t redeem yourself and you can’t come back from it. I will never trust you again. See,” I say, lifting both hands in the air. “You lose, I win. Don’t act like alpha wolf in this world when we all know you’re just a beta in sheep’s clothing. You’re a fake. You’re a bullshitter. I respected you but all of it has now been lost.”

  “But Colette came onto me! She made me do—”

  I hold my hand up, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear about you or what you and her did. It’s the past. It’s done. Just know it will never be that way between you two again. Go home, Gabriel. Get the fuck out of my face before you make me do something I probably won’t regret.”

  I glare him down, and then turn around, marching towards my car. I slam the door behind me, and through the rearview mirror, I see him still standing there like a fool.

  He’s only there for a max of twenty seconds.

  When I start my ignition, that’s when he turns around and walks away, jumping into his BMW, starting it, and skidding out of the parking deck.

  He better enjoy that car while he still can. Sooner or later he’s going to have to sell it.

  I don’t know where he’s going, and I honestly don’t give a shit.

  He fucked up. His life is over.

  He pissed me off, constantly played me right in my face.

  He did this. He caused this fire inside me.

  Give me flames and I will torch anything that stands in my way.

  He’s the first to burn down, to crumble into bitter, desolate ashes.

  I dare someone else to try me.

  Do so, and their life, as they know it, is over.

  * * *

  I’m home by 8 PM.

  The house is unbearably quiet.

  It took me a while to get used to the quiet again. After Bradley passed th
ings were much different.

  The house wasn’t booming with loud cartoons when I got home. It didn’t smell like cookies or milk. His highchair was gone. All the baby stuff tossed in his bedroom or the attic.

  We never go in there. I can’t bear it, but walking past that room every day kills me. It’s only two doors down, in between our bedroom and the office.

  My heart aches as I drop my suitcase on the countertop. I blow a breath, rubbing my face and leaning against the edge.

  “Griffin! How could you let this happen!? How could you do this!? How!?” Colette asked me that question so many times, but I was frozen. I didn’t know how to answer her. I couldn’t answer her because I felt like life, as I knew it, was over.

  Whatever I had to say was pointless. Whatever I could have said wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

  “This is your fault!” she shouted as she banged her fists on my chest. “I fucking hate you! I hate you! You had one thing to do, Griffin! One fucking thing and you fucked it up! This is your fault! I hate you! I will never forgive for this!”

  She never said she hated me before. Not once… until that moment.

  My eyes thicken with tears. I try to forget about it, pulling out a bottle of beer and cracking it open. I take a swig. But it doesn’t help because right in front of me is a picture of Colette and Bradley on the fridge.

  She was so happy. He was so carefree and innocent.

  The day she said she hated me was the same day the ambulance crew couldn’t revive Bradley. Colette showed up, confused as hell until she saw him on the gurney.

  I shut my eyes, hoping to ward off the hotness, the prickling.

  It’s no use.

  After all that has happened—after all I’ve been through—I have never felt more alone. My heart aches deep in my chest, and though I can show on the outside I don’t care about her much, the truth is I do care.

  I care too much.

  I swore to give Colette my all. I swore to always protect her, to fight for her, to never let any harm come to Bradley.

  Hell, I promised him. My son. I put it on everything that I wouldn’t… but I couldn’t even keep that promise.

  My promises… they are serious to me, and breaking that one was the epitome of me. I never break them. Now they just feel meaningless and unworthy.

  A splashing noise sounds to my left and I frown, placing my bottle down and marching towards the balcony door. I slide the blinds aside and peer out.

  The pool water ripples beneath the moonlight. Someone is out there.

  With haste, I yank the door open and rush out, but when I spot Colette’s favorite towel on one of the chairs, I realize it’s just her. I watch as she swims from one end to the other, and when she makes it back to the end I’m near, she grips the concrete and peers up at me.

  “Colette,” I breathe. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

  “I’m swimming,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “What does it look like?”

  I shake my head, narrowing mine down at her. “You haven’t—you don’t like this pool, remember? You hate it. You haven’t swam in it since—”

  “Since Bradley?” she fills in for me when I don’t finish. I blink. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong actually.” She climbs out of the pool, going for her towel on the chair. She dries her hair first, and then the plum colored one-piece halter bathing suit. “I swim in this pool at least three times a week, mainly in the mornings. I’m only swimming tonight because I didn’t fit it in this morning. Lots of work for the gallery.”

  She shrugs like it’s nothing.

  I swallow hard, stepping back. “Why?” I breathe as the moving water reflects on her pale skin.

  “What do you mean why?”

  “Why do you swim in here?”

  “Because it gives me peace, Griffin. This was the last place he was before we lost him.” She shrugs again. “I feel like I’m… swimming with him, I guess.”

  I don’t have anything to say to that. We all cope differently. I keep my lips sealed, watching as she walks past me and then stops in front of the balcony door.

  Before she goes inside, she says, “Oh, and I finally answered Gabriel’s thirtieth damn call. You are right about one thing.” She’s quiet for a moment, a smirk forming on her lips. “I am sticking to you like glue now. I’m not going anywhere for a while, Griffin. Aren’t you happy to know that I’m all yours again? Doesn’t it make you feel so proud to have me all back to yourself?”

  My nostrils flare. I don’t dare speak.

  She continues. “That’s a good lie you told him.” She laughs. “I guess I can work with that.”

  And then she’s inside, leaving me out here by this disgraceful pool.

  I blink rapidly, staring down at the spot that still reminds me of him.

  It’s where I laid him when I found him face down in the pool.

  God, he was just… floating. For a second I thought he was kidding around, but he was only two. He couldn’t have been kidding because he didn’t understand. He was getting swimming lessons throughout the year, but he just wasn’t ready yet.

  I stare down, my vision blurring, remembering every gruesome detail. Every heart-shattering moment.

  My mouth on his, my hand slamming down on his chest. I’m begging, crying—praying for him to come back to me. “Bradley! Come on, son. Please.” I slammed on his chest again. “Please, Bradley. Don’t do this to me. Come on. Come on!”

  His lips… fuck, they were so blue. I started to give mouth-to-mouth again, but I felt the ice. The chill ran down my spine, proving to me only one thing…

  His face was so pale and he was so… cold.

  I was cold.

  I knew before I even wanted to admit it that my son was dead. I knew it because I’d never seen anyone that lifeless since my father died. So pale. So blue.

  Gone.

  I whip my head up, staring at the open balcony door.

  I left it open.

  I did it and Colette has every right to blame me.

  It was my fault.

  Because of me leaving that damn door open, being too busy with calls and work and running up and down the stairs, my son died.

  I wasn’t watching—I thought if I could just get one minute to gather some things that I could come back and still keep my eye on him.

  My body turns to the right, where his outdoor playpen used to be. I remember the blocks being all spread out. He started there, which meant it took me longer than a minute upstairs.

  Bradley… he always got bored quickly. He loved his blocks, could play with them for hours, but he loved the water more.

  It hurts to even think about him falling in, tumbling sideways—whatever it was that caused him to get in that water.

  I still have no idea, all I know is that I should have been there to save him. I should have been watching my son. I shouldn’t have been working, but it was so important—a huge opportunity with Apple that I couldn’t miss.

  If I could just go back to the moment right before I left him to play downstairs, I never would have touched my phone. I never would have read an email.

  I would have spent every waking moment with my son, playing with him, laughing with him, watching those silly animal cartoons he loved.

  A few tears have lined my face.

  They’re thick.

  Heavy.

  I turn to face the pool, swiping beneath my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, son,” I whisper. “I really am. I hope that at least you have forgiven me.”

  I look back, towards the bedroom that Colette and I are forcing ourselves to share. I wonder what she might be up to—a shower, maybe plotting more of her demise—but it’s none of those.

  As I look up I see she is staring right down at me. And when our eyes lock, they hold for about ten seconds, but then she shakes her head, drops it, and then steps away from the window, yanking the curtains closed.

  It seems like a cold, cruel move, but the truth is,
just like me, she is crying.

  This is how I know.

  This is how I truly know that Colette isn’t as heartless as she chooses to be.

  She cares.

  She knows.

  Though tragic, it was a mistake and I am only human.

  Chapter Ten

  Angelina

  This is supposed to be a surprise.

  I caught a flight around six this morning to Miami… again. Only this time I have a real contract with me.

  No shams.

  No lies.

  No tricks.

  It’s all here and it’s honest.

  After I check into a hotel in the heart of the city, I jump in a cab and head to Boyd Enterprises. Thinking of it, I know Griffin won’t change the name of the company. Well, I assume he won’t because it is too valuable to him, but as long as I am making some of the cut, the title doesn’t really matter.

  Besides, Boyd’s name carries a lot heavier than Clark. Not many people know us, but from my experiences, meetings, and calls, they all know of Griffin Boyd.

  Pulling my cellphone out of my clutch, I check the time first and then respond to a few emails from Quarter and Napoleon, a small company we’ve had on board for a while.

  It doesn’t take too long to get to Boyd’s building.

  Before I know it I am on his floor, marching down the hallway and stopping at his assistant’s desk. I smile down at him as I lend my credentials.

  “It may be a few minutes,” Kelly says, jotting something down on a sheet of paper. “Mr. Boyd is a little pre-occupied right now. He should be right out, though. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  I nod. “Great.”

  He pushes out of his chair and walks to the door. He knocks first before poking his head in and filling Griffin in on my appearance. He’s back out within a second, shutting the door behind him and rolling his eyes.

  “What?” I laugh.

  Kelly whips his head up to look at me, his teal bangs flapping. “Oh, nothing!”

  I fold my arms. “You can’t kid me, kid.”