“What are you kids doing out here this late?” He circled around Eisav first, like a dog sniffing for evidence. Grace was shaking so badly she tried to hold her hands to her side.
“Not much, Father,” Eisav responded with a poor attempt at keeping his voice steady. At nineteen he was about one inch taller than his father’s six-one frame. His body was built and strong. His father, a middle-aged man, had a protruding belly but was still in good shape. Eisav thought to himself that he could probably win a fight against him if it weren’t for the rifle. He also feared that his father had been waiting for the day to possibly shoot him or banish him from the house and family. Now was his chance. Eisav thought about the secret he had on his father. A secret that could destroy his career. He considered using his knowledge to threaten his father.
“It doesn’t look like nothing, Eisav,” his father snapped bitterly as his eyes ran over Grace’s body. Eisav’s fists clenched by his side, but he felt helpless. He hated how his father was looking at Grace, as if she were a cheap slut and not the daughter he had been raising. A girl that tried her best to fit in and respect him. A girl who did her daily chores on the farm even when she was ill just to please the family that took her in.
“Grace, speak,” his father ordered.
“I’m not sure what to say,” Grace answered quietly. Eisav sensed that the gun was making her nervous. After witnessing her own mother being shot, she had suffered from nightmares for years. She hated guns.
“You learned in church that thou shall not lie. I want the truth. Did you fornicate with Eisav here tonight?” His father asked, taking two steps closer, pinning her with a steely glare. Eisav took in her shaky legs and shallow breaths. He worried she may pass out.
As Isaac stood tall, waiting for an answer with the rifle on his shoulder, his gaze lowered to the ground as he stomped his foot around. Eisav followed his stare and his eyes widened when he saw what his father was looking at: the misplaced used condom. His father had strict rules in the house about premarital sex. Eisav’s parents ensured that their kids knew it was unacceptable and deserved a punishment of the highest proportions. Eisav usually found the hypocrisy laughable because he was pretty sure his parents knew he wasn’t a virgin. That’s what made this situation unclear. Maybe it proved how much his parents truly didn’t care about him. His father clearly cared about Grace’s virtue, and obviously Ida had been banished from the house for that exact reason.
Isaac’s face had reddened as he stepped away from Grace and took three large steps toward Eisav, raising his gun and pointing it directly in his face.
“You stupid boy, you have defiled the girl. What is wrong with you? I swear if you had not been a twin to Jacob, I would’ve thought you to be the son of Satan. Maybe Satan did plant his seed in your mother because as much as I’ve tried to accept you and have you living in this house, you have let me down every step of the way and now you have destroyed this girl. You have ruined Grace like you have ruined everything else you have touched.” His father’s face grew fiercer with each piercing word. Eisav was not surprised by what his father was saying, yet somehow the words and disgust in his father’s voice hammered into his already broken heart. His father then jammed the end of the barrel into Eisav’s mouth and cocked the trigger.
“Father, please …” Eisav lifted both his arms in the air in surrender as tears streamed down his face. “I love her,” he said as his voice broke and sweat trickled down his forehead.
“You love her?” His father repeated with disgust. “Why didn’t you ask to court her? Why did you take what wasn’t yours?” His father continued to ask as he forced the barrel of the rifle into Eisav’s mouth. Eisav closed his eyes, dreading that his father would pull the trigger.
Grace’s mind had shut down for mere moments, but in that time she was pulled back to the horrifying day her mother was killed before her eyes. She had only been a helpless little girl then, afraid a mad man would take the only person she ever loved. She couldn’t fight back when she was a girl, besides everything happened too fast between the man approaching them, demanding money, and pulling the trigger in a few breathes time. Now she was a trembling mess, a victim to panic which had taken a stronghold of her. Only, her love for Eisav proved stronger than her panic as she garnered courage, shaking her head back and forth briefly before blinking twice and gathering her wits about her. She took a few quick steps closer to Eisav and Isaac.
“Please, I love him. This was all my fault. I forced myself on him. He didn’t want to defile me, but I wouldn’t let him go. I kept at it.” She continued as Isaacs lips turned down in disgust. Her voice was shaking but love pushed her forward.
“I’m so sorry this was my fault. Please let Eisav go and I promise I’ll go to church and repent. I’ll go to confession. I’ll ask for my soul to be cleansed. I will do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt him. I’m telling you the truth this was not his fault.” She breathed heavily as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Isaac’s breathing was rapid as his eyes darted back and forth between Eisav and Grace. It was clear to Eisav that he was trying to decipher the truth in her words.
His icy glare landed back on Eisav when he pulled the gun out of his mouth. Eisav began to choke and gag as he keeled forward and fell to his knees. He was so sure his father was going to pull the trigger, somehow justifying in his mind that he had gotten rid of Satan. He also understood that although his father didn’t shoot him tonight, he was also not going to allow him stay.
He gave Eisav a swift kick to his stomach, and Eisav fell to the ground, coughing some more, as Grace yelled out with tears streaming down her face. “Come with me now, girl.” Isaac pulled her away from Eisav by the arm. “I’ll take you to Father Joseph tomorrow. We’ll see what to do with you. In the mean time I want you out of my house and out of our lives, Eisav. Don’t ever look at or contact this girl again. I want you out tonight and that’s final. Do not talk to your mother, Marie, or Jacob about this. Do you hear me? No one should know what happened here tonight. You say goodbye and you leave. Am I clear? Because if I’m not, Eisav, so help me … I won’t hesitate with this rifle next time,” his father threatened with a wild look in his eyes that made him seem unhinged while pulling Grace by the arm.
It was clear to Eisav that calling his father out on the secret he held for so many years wouldn’t help at all. In fact, it could make matters a lot worse because it was clear that his father had lost his mind.
Eisav took one last look at Grace and his heart broke. He imagined what a mess she was after seeing a gun down his throat. If he said anything at this point, his father would shoot him. He had no choice but to let her walk away.
Isaac dragged Grace back to the house where he ordered her to take a shower and go to bed. She could hear Eisav packing up his things from her room. He was nineteen years old and being sent out to the world on his own. He had saved up some money working for Mrs. Clarkson over the years, so Grace knew he had enough to get by for a short time. She could hear his goodbye to Jacob through her bedroom door and didn’t miss Eisav ask his brother to look out for her. Jacob happily obliged. Grace was falling apart inside as she heard his quiet footsteps moving down the hall. It was clear she wasn’t getting a goodbye, yet for some stupid reason she had begun to pack her own things to go with him. It was too risky. Deep down she knew that. Isaac had become more and more unhinged with the years. Grace couldn’t risk running off. Besides, that rifle had scared the living daylights out of her. Isaac was milliseconds away from shooting Eisav.
Grace was now seventeen. She had to at least finish high school before she could leave the Duncan home. She had no idea why Isaac spared her and assumed it was because she had pleaded that she would confess and repent. Ida had never done that because it wasn’t who she was. After she could no longer hear Eisav’s footsteps, Grace went to take a shower. In the shower she allowed herself to break down into a fit of tears. No matter how unreasonable, a part of her wished Eisav would�
��ve taken her with him. The image of Isaac pushing the barrel of the rifle into his mouth played on and on in her mind. The thought of Isaac pulling the trigger burned a hole through her stomach, and she cried some more silent tears that would never be heard.
Eisav had the bag on his back and a motorcycle waiting in the drive when he walked out of the house. Grace deserved better, and he was determined to give her better. He got on his motorcycle and headed to New York, where he would contact the agent and hoped he was still interested. The agent originally proposed Eisav tour the country and world alongside a prominent band in the hopes of making himself a career. Once Eisav established himself, he would return for Grace. It was a solid plan in his young mind. His heart bled from having Grace ripped away from him. There was no time for failure. He knew deep down in the depth of his being Grace would wait for him. At nineteen he was a dreamer at best, a young vagabond who would return for the love of his life when the time was right. Too bad he didn’t know that dreams don’t always come true.
Three years later
Paris, France
“Eisav, you’re up in twenty,” his assistant shouted from outside his dressing room door. She usually didn’t give him the courtesy of a shout; usually, she just barged right in to find him buried in a notebook or staring out into space, dreaming of what could have been. Eisav wasn’t your usual rock star; he didn’t sleep with groupies or any women at all. He was an introvert, who on occasion gave into a night of binge drinking with his band mates, but unlike his band mates, he didn’t wake up with an unfamiliar face beside him in the morning.
“Thanks,” Eisav shouted back as he sat on the couch with his head hanging between his legs, feeling depressed, which was a little ironic since he’d finally accomplished his dreams.
After leaving Sade, Eisav contacted the agent who got to work on making him a star. With the rent so high in New York, Eisav had been living in a crumby motel in the Bronx for three months. He’d gone from singing in no-name bars to headlining for some of the biggest bands in the music industry to becoming a household name himself. A name that had plagued him since his youth and a name he contemplated changing a million times over. Especially when his first employee called him Mr. Duncan. He finally dropped his family name after that and went so far as to have it legally changed. He was not Mr. Duncan. Mr. Duncan was the name of his cruel father. Instead, he became known to the world as “Eisav,” an original name that intrigued his female fans and led to long legions of young women wanting to get a piece of him. His rock hard body, tattoos, and piercings only made the women want him more, but Eisav never indulged in the rock-star life. He remained celibate, leaving the media to speculate whether or not he was gay or if he had other fetishes that he didn’t want to make public. Staying true to his nature, he didn’t care what others thought. He only cared what one girl thought; that was his only reason for keeping the name Eisav, because he believed that with his international status Grace would somehow find him one day.
At nineteen he had been a sight to see and the women drooled, offering him sex and blowjobs. Anything just to be near someone famous like him, but he kept true to himself and Grace, focusing on making plans for their unpredictable future. He thought when they reunited he would put touring on hold so he and Grace could find a house together. Something Grace would love. He wanted a family with her. But one year turned into two, which turned into three.
He couldn’t contact her for fear of his father. Age didn’t matter to his father. He had been over eighteen when he was thrown out. After years of dissecting the night he and Grace were caught, Eisav was sure the issue was something bigger than merely following his father’s rules. He had noticed his father’s hypocrisy at a young age. Isaac hated his son, loathed him so much that Eisav was sure he was going to pull the trigger that night. His father’s odd behavior had intensified in the last years Eisav had been home. He knew that if his father ever laid eyes on him again, he wouldn’t hesitate pulling that trigger. Why did his father’s hatred run so deep? Why hadn’t Grace found him yet? She should have left Sade and enrolled in art school in New York by now.
Three years with no contact felt like a millennium. He contemplated going back to Sade, but he was sure his father would shoot him on the spot. It didn’t matter if he was an international rock star, his father would not give a flying fuck about the world and would shoot him dead anyway—especially when he took in all the tattoos on his body. The tattoos alone would be a sign to his father that he was the son of Satan and the rifle would surely come to use. Eisav also contemplated contacting Brooklyn or Addison, Grace’s good friends. Surely they’d have heard of his success and informed Grace. Maybe she was still closed off to the rest of society with his father’s strict rules. The thought seemed crazy now that she was twenty, a grown woman. A woman who should have been able to make the decision to find him. He wondered if Brooklyn and Addison would even be trustworthy or if they would tell their parents, who would immediately contact Isaac. The whole situation was insane. He was an adult now, yet he still felt like a small and hopeless child. His father’s words penetrated his dark soul no matter how famous or rich he was. The threats, the fear he instilled in Eisav’s mind were fresh. It pained him to no end that Grace hadn’t reached out. She had always been a resourceful girl. Why hadn’t she tried to contact him? Was she okay? Did something happen to her? Eisav sometimes drove himself crazy with questions.
All the promises of yesterday had melted away into oblivion as if they had never existed. As if their two souls didn’t deserve to reconnect. As Eisav’s heart ripped in two and shredded to fragments he no longer recognized, he turned into a sad depressed man. Somehow Los Angeles became home. He liked that LA was so different than Sade. He hoped that it would allow him to forget the love of his life, but being far away never dulled the pain of her loss that seemed to constantly simmer below the surface.
Three years. It had been three years since he was forced to leave and now sitting on a couch in a lavish dressing room before a concert in the city of Paris, the city of lovers, he found himself hyperventilating at the thought of losing Grace. All the time that passed, concerts he played, parties he attended, awards he won … it never dulled his sense of loss. The lyrics to his songs was evidence enough. A lost soul running to nowhere having no one waiting for him. Eisav was famous, yes, but he was heartbroken. With all his money and fame, he felt like he had nothing. It reminded him of a time when the agent called him and asked him to leave Sade but he wouldn’t do it because he didn’t want to leave Grace behind. She was his everything and now after accomplishing what he set out to do, it meant nothing because his everything wasn’t with him.
Another knock on the door to his dressing room pulled Eisav out of his reverie. “Two minutes. We should head to the stage,” Ilana, his assistant, called out.
He stood from the couch and stretched out. Then he went into the bathroom to splash cool water on his face. Many of his songs described Grace. Her beauty, their time together in the forest, swimming in the pond. He didn’t know if his songs were actually a way for him to torture himself for leaving her behind that day. Truth was she didn’t offer to leave with him, and he didn’t ask. The situation was volatile. His father was an unreasonable man. Eisav truly feared for his life and Grace’s.
He stared at himself in the mirror for a long minute then strode over to open the door for Ilana, a spunky young woman a couple years older than him with short, spikey blond hair. She was also about five feet tall, so she looked incredibly small next to him. She had been working with him for two and a half years now and proved herself to be a loyal employee and friend.
“You aren’t having a good night, are you,” she stated. It wasn’t a question. He sometimes became depressed and it showed in his demeanor. The way he carried himself wasn’t the same: his eyes darkened, his shoulders slackened, he looked like a tired twenty-two year old.
Eisav shook his head and followed Ilana out to the stage where he could hear the sc
reaming fans awaiting his arrival. It was then his adrenaline spiked, giving him a momentary reprieve from his despair. His fans saved him. The fact that the world loved his words and sound meant everything to him. With a rush of energy, he made his way to the stage. This was the second show in Paris. They were leaving for England the next day to wrap up the European tour.
“Maybe start with something more upbeat tonight,” she suggested. Eisav knew she was right. If he opened up with “Gracie” tonight, he would end up drinking a bottle of his choice poison after the show, and Ilana would find him face first in the ground.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Probably not the best selection right now.” He let out a sigh as they made their way to the side of the stage. The crowd was already going wild and chanting his name. He wasn’t sure if singing about Grace was a good thing or bad thing. It made him feel close to her and wrenched his heart all at the same time.
“Go get ’em, big man!” Ilana punched him in the shoulder. He rolled his shoulders a few times to release the tension then darted onto the stage straight for the stool and guitar waiting for him.
The crowd turned wild.
“Helloooo … Paris,” Eisav spoke into the microphone, and everyone cheered him on. “Let’s do this.” He signaled the band behind him and began playing his guitar. His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, looking almost sensual. He not only had a way with words but the beautiful music he created from the guitar was a sight to see. Girls drooled just watching him play.
Then his low deep voice carried into the stadium, “Days go by and I still wait for you, wait for you. It’s been so long and I can’t go on, all I want is to be with you … be with you.” His voice drifted off, lower, deeper. As much as he tried to open the show with another song, it always came down to Grace. Would she see it on television? Would she be in the crowd? Would she hear his words and come to him?
Where Promises Die: A Second Chance Romance Page 9
