Alluring Promises Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Josie Bordeaux

  I weighed my options. I could stand here like a child not wanting to talk with their parent and roommate. Or I could go out there and be an adult. I really was tempted to just sit on my bed, but knew my dad was out there waiting for me.

  I dropped my arms and my shoulders as I began to walk past Clark. I started to the living room when a room full of people caught me off guard. My heart pounded and my stomach felt like it was caught in my throat.

  “What is this? Is this an intervention?” I halfway joked, but then realized that’s exactly what it was. I turned back to see Clark blocking the doorway, his eyes bore into mine. My palms became cold and clammy as my nerves spiked higher than I’ve ever remembered them.

  Everyone was there—Vanessa, who couldn’t look me in the eyes, Matt, Izzy, Z, Mel, and Flynn. Of course, my father was there, standing by the windows since my friends had taken up all the seats on the couch and dining room chairs.

  I swallowed as I felt a hand on each of my shoulders, nudging me forward. “We just want you to know we’re here for you. That’s all.” Clark spoke low, but with purpose. My eyes darted to each of them as waves of emotions swept through me. You name it. I ran the gamut of them. Damn, I really am a basket case.

  “Aubrey, you’re going to the best outpatient group there is in the city,” Izzy spoke up for the group.

  “And we’ve got the schedule all worked out,” Mel added. I noted Matt shook his head as if she spoke her turn too soon. As if they had rehearsed this already.

  “Schedule?” I asked. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Well, yeah. I mean. I don’t want you to be alone during the day. I got your therapy times from your dad.” Clark’s hand motioned toward my dad before he continued, “Izzy, Vanessa and I all worked out the slots of your day so you’re not alone.”

  “What am I a child?” I spat. I couldn’t help it. No one had bothered to discuss any of this with me. It had all been done behind my back. I felt like a caged animal with nowhere to go. My mouth was dry and all I wanted was a drink.

  Which was why they’re all here. Shit.

  “You’re not a child, Aubrey,” Z said as he stood and started walking toward me. “Not in the least, but we do want to help you.”

  “Then why did you all meet behind my back to discuss all this without me?”

  “Because you were in the hospital after you tried to kill yourself. Or did you forget that part already?” Clark asked. His tone was sharp and accusatory and it felt like a stab to my heart. I couldn’t deny it, but he just seemed so callous.

  Z and I both glared at Clark, who just shook his head and shrugged. “It’s true.”

  Z turned me by my shoulders back to the group as he led me to them. I felt like I was marching to some cult, waiting to be sworn in. Z sat me in the chair he had occupied and then sat on the arm of the couch.

  “We just want you to know that you’re not alone. You have all of us, if you ever need to talk,” Izzy explained, her blue eyes full of warmth and love.

  My dad crouched in front of me as he put his hand on my knee. “Obviously, you didn’t feel like you could talk to anyone about what happened. We all want you to know that we’re here no matter what.”

  I stood up quick, my first response was to flee, but with the Hulk at the door that wouldn’t be possible. “I don’t want any one’s help. I just want to deal with this on my own.”

  “That’s how you got into the hospital. Your way, sucked. We’re doing things different now.” Clark was making sure I knew it was their way or else. Or at least he tried.

  “So says who? You? You’re going to be the one I can talk to with your door shut every night or when you’re out picking up girls?” I turned to the group. “Or maybe Vanessa and Matt, who are going through their own stuff and don’t need me dumping more crap on their plate. Hell, Mel and Flynn both work late nights most of the time.” I took a step further; considering my cage was with limited space I was going to make good use of it. “Wait, I’ll go to Izzy and Z. I can wait at the bar and get drunk while I spill my guts out to them. I’m sure that would be great for business.”

  Tight fingers clutched around my arm and Clark spun me around; our faces just mere inches from each other, his was red and every muscle in his neck stood out. “You know you can come to any of us. You chose not to. And that shit’s not gonna fly anymore.” His nose flared and his lips curled with each word he spat at me. “My door can be knocked on. Vanessa and Matt are right across the hall and would love to talk about something other than what they’re dealing with.”

  “Clark,” Izzy whispered. I guess she hoped to reel him back, but he seemed to be on a roll.

  “Everyone else is just a phone call away and are here for you, too. You chose not to reach out to any of us and pretended you had to go through all this shit alone. So if we have to treat you like a baby and sit with you all day long doing some sort of rotation, that’s just what we’re gonna fuckin’ do.”

  The room fell silent as Clark got out what he wanted to say and it seemed like everyone else was either too stunned or hadn’t rehearsed their part enough to chime in.

  “Hey,” my dad walked over and then put his hand under my chin to turn my attention back to him. I really felt like I could kill Clark right at that moment.

  “I just want you to be able to get through this and have a good life.” Tears sprang to my eyes just listening to my dad’s voice break for what he wanted for me. “I love you so much and I just need to know you’re safe.”

  “I’m safe,” I snapped, not knowing what else to say. Clark huffed and I glared at him again.

  “Whether you are or not, things need to change in your life.” He waved his arm motioning to the room behind him. “All your friends want to be here for you.” My chin began to quiver though I begged it not to. I felt a tear slip down my cheek, which I quickly swiped at.

  Clark appeared next to my dad. I was surprised when he spoke considering his tone was calm and almost soothing. After all, it was Clark. “Hey. You’ve just done a bunch of stupid shit because you were so upset about everything going on in your life. Just let us help you get better and get through all that therapy stuff.”

  My dad pulled me in tight for a hug. “I have to get back to work soon and I need to know you’ll be safe. I asked Clark to help me out. You can’t be mad at them.” I hugged him tighter. Feeling like shit for the way I treated my friends, I wasn’t sure what to do next. I felt a hand rub my back and wasn’t sure, but assumed it was Clark.

  I looked up to see my best friend’s grey eyes, swollen and full of tears. “You’ve always been there for me. Let me be there for you. Please?” I nodded and turned into her hug. With both of us crying, it was almost comical.

  “Are we done now? Can we go eat something? Cause I’m starving and this was a little too girly emotional for me.” Clark’s voice cut through my “moment” with my best friend.

  Vanessa and I both wiped away our tears while glaring playfully at Clark and chuckling. Everyone stood up and started to fill the silence with where we would go and what we would eat. I listened to everyone’s banter and wondered how I ever could be so lucky to have a group of friends like this.

  AFTER ARRIVING BACK HOME LATER that night, Matt and Vanessa invited my Dad to stay in my old room at their apartment. I wasn’t sure how long he would stay, but knowing him it would only be long enough to know I was all right.

  An odd quiet filled the apartment as Clark and I walked back in. The door shut and the clank of his keys being tossed into the bowl filled the silence between us.

  “Well, are you going to come sleep in my bed tonight or do I sleep in yours?”

  My eyes popped out of my head while I glared at him wondering if this was his joke to escape the awkwardness or if he was serious. “What?”

  “I can’t have you sleeping alone. You’ll get nightmares and shit. And if you leave to go workout, I’ll wonder if you’re out getting drunk and being attacked.”


  I popped my hip to the side and put my hands on them. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just put an ankle bracelet on me?”

  “Probably. I’ll swing by a store and pick one up tomorrow. Thanks for the idea.”

  “I’ll sleep alone tonight, thank you. An alarm on the door might be less expensive, you know.” My sarcasm didn’t seem to stop him from seriously considering that one. Instead, I watched him walk over to the table near the door and move it directly in front of the door. The glass bowl teetered on the edge. He caught it and moved it back in place.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. You don’t want to sleep with me, fine. But I’m not having you leave this apartment without me knowing.” He turned and started toward the couch as he stripped off his jacket. He tossed it over the back of the couch before flopping on a cushion.

  I stood there staring at him for a moment before turning to go into my room. I went to close the door and realized the knob on my door seemed different. It was changed out to one without a lock. I stared at it for a moment and considered arguing about it.

  Then I looked at the doorframe. It had never dawned on me how Clark got into my room to save me. My throat felt thick while my stomach churned at the same time. My eyes scanned the door, noticing part of the frame was broken. How had he gotten in? I guess I assumed he picked the lock or something, but I never thought about him bashing the door to get in.

  Swallowing my guilt, I left the door open and went to the bathroom. The knob on my door was also switched out for one without a lock.

  After changing, I went to grab my laptop off my desk. What looked like a brown leather clutch caught my eye. I ran my fingers over the top of it and picked it up. Two small keys clanked onto my desk and I picked them up. I placed the key into the heart-shaped lock on the front of what I thought was a clutch. It was actually a journal with a lock. The style seemed old world, but so beautiful in design. The lined pages were all empty except for the top one, which read:

  Dear Aub,

  Like I said, sometimes writing your thoughts and feelings down might help you work things out. And this one looks a lot nicer than the pink cheap thing I bought at the gift shop.

  Clark

  I smiled as I ran my hand over the white lined page. The journal was absolutely beautiful. He had to have ordered it online or shopped at a nice gift shop to purchase it. Regardless, it was a gift he had definitely put some thought into. My lips trembled and tears welled in my eyes. I sniffled as I touched the worn-looking leather. It was beautiful and I couldn’t remember ever receiving a gift that someone had put so much thought into.

  Until now.

  DEAR CLARK,

  I feel silly writing to no one in this journal. I could write to several people, I guess - my mom, dad or even to Uncle Chad to get my feelings out. Maybe one day I’ll do that but for now, I’d prefer to write to you. Please don’t make me regret this. I think I remember you telling me that you never send your letters? Is that why you gave me a journal, so that I don’t have to feel like sending these? If that’s the case, maybe I won’t even give this one to you.

  It’s my first full day back home from the hospital. Although I spent three days in the hospital, it feels like months since I’ve been here. It was awkward and I was terribly nervous walking back through our door. Actually, the word embarrassed seems more fitting. I can’t imagine what I put you through and I want to tell you—I’m so sorry. I should never have put you through that or any of our friends for that matter.

  I just feel…lost. There are so many things that led up to that night, so many reasons why I felt so desperate. And if I could turn back time and maybe, just talk to you or to Vanessa…

  There’s no use in going over all that, is there? I fucked up. Plain and simple. And I put you, Vanessa and all our friends through a horrible scare and I’m sorry.

  Aubrey

  TIME PASSED by as day after day I spent in group therapy sessions. I was going four times a week for close to four hours each time and then my dad went ahead and scheduled individual counseling, which he was probably right to do.

  I felt so disconnected from the other people in my group sessions. I heard their stories and some were horrific, some seemed to be just spoiled kids wanting attention. Which then made me feel guilty for thinking that because…well, we’re all here to get help regardless of why we were there.

  It just seemed at times that I really couldn’t open up during my group sessions. My individual sessions felt more comfortable to me. Sarah, my therapist, was letting me go at my own pace trying to work out my issues.

  We discussed my sexual habits of sleeping with random men. She explained that having sex with strangers allowed me to feel powerful. It let me take some sort of control over myself instead of feeling as powerless as I had been when I was with Uncle Chad.

  My need to search for love and hoping that with every date was really about trying to prove Uncle Chad’s “advice” wrong. When I was left with nothing but emptiness, the self-loathing would consume me.

  Using alcohol to “numb” myself was just another escape and didn’t really allow me to work through the pain. Drinking just helped me to push it down deeper and ignore it.

  Each day I spent with Sarah, I felt stronger about myself and about the decisions I made over my life. It wasn’t a cure all and I was still trying to face the nightmares. Some days were much more difficult to deal with my issues.

  My biggest one was with my mother. She wasn’t my birth mother but I’d never, ever wanted her to feel less of a mother to me. She raised me as if she were her own. My entire life, she never let me feel as if I weren’t her biological daughter.

  Except when I came to her about Uncle Chad. And because she didn’t believe me when I first told her and the fact that she allowed it to keep happening, trusting people was a difficult thing for me. Being let down by the people you thought loved you, like Gregory too, was something I was going to have to work through.

  My dad picked me up from therapy each day. I thought the whole thing was silly until the last day of that week. I lost it. Everything we had discussed in therapy during the day made me insanely irritable. I was exhausted and didn’t want to talk anymore, but Sarah pushed me just a little further than usual.

  I walked out of the facility and wanted nothing more than to hit a bar and drink myself into oblivion. I noticed my car sitting there, my dad waiting for me. I stood there and debated running down the street, but knew I couldn’t let my dad down.

  The driver’s side door popped open and he ran to me. His expression told me I must have looked like hell. “You okay?”

  I nodded and broke down. I obviously wasn’t. He held me while I sobbed into his shoulder on the sidewalk.

  “Shh, it’s going to be all right.” He breathed in deep as he tightened his hold on me while he rubbed my back. “I spoke with Sarah earlier today. I told her I wanted to sit with both of you before I have to get back on the road again.”

  I nodded into his shoulder, still unable to form words.

  “I can’t leave you without trying to help you deal with all this. But even when I’m out on the road, I want you to be able to call me when you need. None of this other bullshit of hitting the bar to drink it off.”

  I popped my head up, my eyes swollen from crying and peered at him.

  “Yes, I know that’s how you’ve been dealing with it and it’s going to stop.”

  I swallowed, unsure of how to reply to him and also wondering if I was upset with my friends for letting him know.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home. You look like you could use a little sleep after the day you’ve had.”

  Again, I just nodded.

  DEAR CLARK,

  My dad leaves tomorrow. I’ve loved having him here and seeing him get along with you and all our friends meant so much to me. My dad wasn’t usually around to meet my friends. No, I’m not blaming him or anything. He’s always worked so hard to make sure Mom and I had
everything we needed.

  Speaking of “Mom,” she hasn’t called and didn’t pick up when I tried to call her. My dad won’t talk about it, but I have a feeling they’re divorcing—all because of me. This is where I go back and forth. I should have never told my dad. But then that was the problem for all those years when my uncle…

  I don’t know what would have been better. Sarah insists I did the right thing. Maybe if I had told him years ago, my life would have turned out different. Or would it? Would he have believed me? That’s a lot of what ifs.

  I’m going to miss having my dad around. I hate writing in this journal. Don’t take it the wrong way, but it feels stupid and silly to write this…who the fuck is going to see this anyway? I have no idea if I ever want you to see this. You shouldn’t see it…because I’ll probably write something fucked up. That’s what journals are for though; to write out those stupid thoughts in your head and…what’s the point in putting them on paper? So someone can use it some day against you? Would you do that? Show me how fucked up I really am?

  Aubrey…

  Why am I even signing this????

  IT WAS time for my dad to leave and I was heartbroken. I didn’t want him to go because it was really nice spending so much time with him.

  I knew I wasn’t going to be alone. No one would let me be alone. Hell, the schedules were set and divided among the group as to who would pick me up each day. There were days I was ticked off about being treated like a child. But when I had my bad days, I knew it made more sense this way.

  Clark dropped me off every morning. His way of dropping me off was a lot different than my dad, who let me walk in on my own. Clark led me into the building every morning as if I’d wait for him to leave and run to a bar. But maybe he was right to do it that way; there were definitely days when that was exactly what I wanted to do. There were some days when facing the truth and going through my demons tore me up inside.

  Running to a bar and getting drunk would have been much easier.