Hold Me (Promise Me Book 1)

by Brea Viragh

  “If you really gave a shit you would have waited until after my shift to tell me.”

  “It couldn’t wait. Not this.”

  “I have nothing else to say to you, August. And the next time you think you have bad news for me, keep it to yourself.”

  I wanted to be strong, I thought as I gave him a steady stare. To keep an iron wall in place around my heart so I didn’t feel the sting of August’s insinuations.

  August said nothing for a moment, then sighed. There was no hint of remorse, only steely resolve.

  Instead of merely saying goodbye, he reached for me. And I turned my back on him.

  “Don’t touch me. Nothing happened.”

  “Talk to him,” August urged. “And get to the bottom of it.”

  I raised my voice as he swiveled to leave. “Hell of a thing to say to me, August!”

  I walked back inside with shaking hands and pain in my heart. Beulah, bless her heart, took one look at my face then removed a few chocolate pieces from her apron pocket. Accepting one, I popped it into my mouth, the taste like chalk.

  I stewed on our terrible conversation for the rest of the day. Went over and over those words and tried to picture Duncan doing any of the things Leda had accused him of. There was a lie in there somewhere, I was sure of it, and I’d be willing to bet money I knew where it originated.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Not surprising, I made it back to the hotel before Duncan finished work. Late day at the office, I told myself, not him taking time off to visit someone else. A female someone. But as hard as I tried, I could not stop the quaking in my legs, or the way my imagination took hold and raced. I saw the two of them together each time I closed my eyes, the picture painted on the back of my closed lids.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed with my knees bobbing, I thought about what to say and vowed not to go in with guns blazing. In the last week, I’d become quite adept at keeping an even keel when it came to Duncan. His random outbursts only worsened when I rose to the occasion.

  There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. Somewhere along the line, wires got crossed and maybe Leda just thought Duncan was flirting when actually…

  I knew how women could act. She didn’t like me and this was her way of showing it. Pettiness I could deal with. Infidelity? Not so much. I lived through it once and rather hoped to avoid repeating the situation.

  But I knew Duncan. Had known him for the last three years. He wouldn’t cheat on me. Would he?

  I spoke to fill the silence. “Keep it together. Nothing good comes from jumping to conclusions. In a few moments, you’ll have your answer.”

  I was too fidgety to do anything besides sit. My gaze darted to the clock and back again, watching seconds tick into minutes. I wasn’t sure what to do about Duncan, not truly. I wondered what role I needed to step into to avoid confrontation when I wanted to roar. To scream, to deny the wounds August had opened.

  If my time at home with my parents taught me anything, it was how to play the diplomat. It had been the only way to stay sane.

  Still, the instant I heard his key turn in the door, I was on him, despite my resolution to the contrary.

  “What the hell is going on?” I burst out, exploding to my feet.

  The shock of my voice had Duncan stepping back outside the open door. The deepening glow of twilight brought out the golden highlights of his hair and shadowed his eyes. “What?”

  “I had an interesting conversation with August today. He told me how you came on to his girlfriend. You tried to kiss her!” My finger rose of its own accord to point accusingly at him.

  Duncan said nothing for the longest moment as he slowly came into the room, taking his time locking the door and setting the briefcase down. “August said what to you, exactly?”

  My brows shot up. “Well, apparently Leda made some harsh accusations about you helping her design her business logos—something that would have been nice to know.”

  “That’s bullshit. I never touched her,” Duncan returned firmly.

  Blood went cold. “I didn’t say you did.”

  “Whatever August said isn’t true.”

  “Then why would he lie to me?”

  “I don’t know, but it is a crock of shit. Leda and I are friends and nothing more. Did I help her with designs? Yes, I did, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Did I kiss her? No, not that it’s anyone’s goddamn business. Not a moment’s peace around here.”

  “I’m starting to freak out, Duncan. I don’t like what August said and I don’t want people to start to notice how you spend a lot of time with that woman.” I shivered. “People talk.”

  His eyes turned dark at the mention of gossip. “I don’t spend a lot of time with her. And who cares what people say? You and I both know what’s going on.” He began to peel off his clothing piece by piece, jacket and tie, pants and socks.

  I watched bumps rise on his skin. “Yes, and there’s the problem. I have no idea what’s going on. People are coming into my place of work and telling me my fiancé is a cheat and a liar. Who am I supposed to believe?”

  “Me, Isabel!” He looked aghast at the insinuation. “You’re supposed to believe me.”

  “I can’t when you’re acting strange,” I pushed. Feeling useless, I returned to the bed and wished for more room to prowl.

  “So more than one person talked to you today?”

  I sighed miserably. “No, only August. He spoke to Leda and thought it best to tell me before I heard it from anyone else. He told me to talk to you.”

  “That no-good lying piece of garbage.” Duncan spoke through clenched teeth.

  At last, he’d seen the light. “I told you she was no good.”

  “I’m not talking about Leda. I’m talking about August.”

  Pause. Rewind. “Excuse me?”

  “Leda would never say those things. She knows the status quo with us, which means the problem is with your little friend there.”

  I lifted a brow. “He was right before.”

  Duncan finished undressing and turned to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means the last time he told me about a boyfriend cheating on me he was right. I didn’t believe him, and I paid the price for my pride. And you have been acting strange,” I repeated, needing to clear the air. Yes, I blamed August for the upset, in part, but Duncan was also at fault.

  I wasn’t surprised that Duncan was being uncouth. He’d been in the same state for the past two weeks. Moody, sullen, and unwilling to meet my eyes unless I forced him.

  “I told you the problem,” he maintained. “I’m allowed to feel angry and stressed and not have my soon-to-be-wife jumping down my throat every time I’m having a bad day.”

  His face flushed as hot blood roared up through his veins. If I were a man, I had a strong feeling we’d be using fists to solve our disagreement. Whatever dark mood Duncan was in, I realized I needed to proceed with caution.

  “It’s not a bad day, Duncan. It’s been a bad month and you know it. Every time I turn around you’re huffing, puffing, and wanting alone time. What about me?” I glanced at him when he yanked the dresser drawer open so forcefully it squealed.

  “Okay. Let’s talk about you,” he retorted. “Miss I Go Out and Get Drunk Instead of Dealing with My Problems. You don’t call your multiple inebriations acting a little strange? Let’s not be hypocrites, here.”

  My eyes narrowed and I shoved an angry hand through my hair. Stay calm and proceed with caution. Do not shove your fiancé against the wall and strangle him. “Oh no. Don’t turn this back around on me when you’re the one slinking around with another woman.”

  “I haven’t stepped a goddamn foot out of line, but if you keep pushing me like this I may change my mind.” Duncan slammed his hand down on the dresser with enough force to crack the wood.

  I sucked in a breath, feeling the sword slide through my heart and back out again. “How can you say that?”

  “Look.”
Duncan sat down heavily in the chair. “Maybe we need more time alone. I’ve been trying exceedingly hard to deal with this but it’s not working out.”

  “Deal with me, you mean.”

  “Yes, with you. With everything.” He spoke evenly now though the flush remained.

  I stared at Duncan, my gentle giant, and wondered how many layers of resentment I’d have to peel away before I found him again. The person in front of me now was a stranger.

  “You never answered me, not in any real way,” I said finally. “Did you kiss Leda?”

  Duncan glanced up, his face tired. “Do you really want to know?”

  My blood went cold as a haze settled in. A fog of misery I remembered from my last confrontation with Brett. I knew this path, better than most. I knew to read between the lines though I hated what I saw.

  “You want alone time? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” I grabbed my purse from the dresser and swung it over my shoulder. “I’m leaving.”

  “Back to the bar again, my dear?”

  I ignored the taunt. “No, although I’m sure they’ll keep a seat warm for me.”

  “Then where do you think you’re going?”

  “To the house. I’ll spend a few nights there in a sleeping bag if I have to, so you can have space to learn how to deal with me. Maybe when I come back you’ll have a satisfactory answer instead of more crap.”

  I dug around underneath the bed for my overnight carrier, fingers trembling. Then, I rifled through the nearest pile of dirty laundry—no way in hell I was going to go near Duncan for the clean stuff—and shoved clothing into the bag.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Iz,” Duncan said as I crawled over the bed to get to the bathroom. “The house isn’t ready and you aren’t cut out for camping. Forget about all of your nonsense and stay here.”

  “No. I’m not going to stay demanding answers and having you talk to me like I’m senseless.” I took hold of my toiletries and swept them into the bag as well. “You aren’t the only one dealing with stress right now, Duncan. It’s called life, and it’s no reason to go off and do unspeakable things.”

  “The only one doing unspeakable things is you, accusing me of something without any goddamn proof.” Duncan moved to block the doorway, peering down at me with his temper simmering. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. How about we talk about you and August, yeah? Tell me there isn’t more going on between the two of you.”

  “I know enough to get out of here before I punch you,” I growled up at him before slipping under his arms, ignoring the pounds of chains settling in my gut.

  “Fine, then. Be that bitch. But don’t expect me to be willing to talk when you get back. This is your golden opportunity and you’re flushing it down the toilet.”

  “If you insist on being an asshole,” I flung the bag over my shoulder and stood to my full height, “then do it on your own time.” I slammed the door on my way out. My new habit, it would seem.

  Blinking through tears, I traversed the stairs until my feet landed resolutely on the ground. I would show Duncan, for all lack of culpability. His non-answers grated at me as I crossed to the car. And turning the argument back on me? Not only a huge tell, but a surefire way to get me out the door.

  Wouldn’t you know…it worked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Digging through all the boxes in the rented storage container, I managed to find a couple of comforters and an extra pillow and spent the night curled in the corner of the soon-to-be master bedroom. Staring out into the evening, I watched stars burst to life amidst a sea of clouds, nestled in rich midnight blue.

  Let the bastard sleep in his comfortable bed, I thought, clenching my teeth until they hurt. I wanted Duncan to ache as much as I did, to feel the betrayal despite my lack of evidence. He’d said no, in a roundabout way, but didn’t actions speak louder than words?

  I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  So I fought the urge to break the shiny new windows, to gouge the new wood of the porch and watch it break into splinters. To destroy the work because Duncan had paid for it. Better to let the house rest and calm my mind. No sense in hurting myself in the process; talk about throwing the baby out with the bathwater!

  Despite the cell phone in my hand, newly restored thanks to a rice bath, I didn’t call August. I knew how easy it would be to punch in the number with fingers flying tappity-tap over the keyboard and let him know of my pain. It was easy enough to blame him and Duncan equally. Instead I let them both be and, alone with my thoughts, fought for peace.

  **

  I’d spent the better part of the previous night not sleeping. Now bags hung heavy beneath my eyes and my muscles ached from lying on the uncomfortable floor.

  For hours I’d stewed in my own self-righteous anger, blaming Duncan for all of this. If he ever and he should have and he better circling continually in my head. But toward dawn, when the stars hung low and the sky gradually lightened, I began to turn the blame inward.

  I was the one who’d wanted the wedding pushed up in the first place. It would be good not to forget the part I played. I could also relate to Duncan’s need for community, so I was in no position to criticize him for seeking out a friend. Female or not.

  More than anything, I wanted my security back. The comfort of knowing someone would be there, that no matter what issues came up in the future, we’d deal with them as a unit. Together. I loved him, after all.

  Didn’t I? More often than not, I’d been wondering if my emotions were true, or something I was supposed to feel. I was getting older, and I had a man who wanted to be with me. I’d be a fool to let him slip through my fingers.

  These were my excuses.

  Despite my misgivings and with the recognition of my own culpability firmly realized, I used the following day to get my head on straight. I rehearsed what to say a thousand times.

  Duncan, I’m sorry. Maybe you were right about needing a little time apart. This wedding business has us in a dither and I can’t stand how we are at each other’s throats. I know we are both to blame, and instead of saying something we’ll regret, I’ll just go stay at the house while we sort things out. Working toilet or not.

  In my mind I repeated these words, training my nerves to be steel. By the end of the day, I felt I was ready to talk to Duncan, to apologize, to figure out how to stay together and how to fix this mess we were in.

  I took a deep breath and stared at the twinkling lights of the hotel. My unofficial home. Could I really leave Duncan here while I stayed at the homestead? That was a possibility I had to face. It all depended on tonight, on his mood, and on what ended up coming out of my mouth despite the good intentions.

  The sun had already set and the twilight made the bright lights seem even livelier somehow. My room key was hidden somewhere in the depths of my pocket. Fumbling for it, I crossed the asphalt parking lot and climbed the steps toward our room. I mentally rehearsed again certain parts of my speech while I slid the key home.

  This was the moment of truth. Time to be the bigger person and figure things out on my own. No one else was going to fix my life. I squared my shoulders and leaned in as I turned the knob.

  The moment the door opened I began to speak. “Duncan, I’m—holy shit!”

  Every part of me froze at the sight of Duncan and Leda together. They jumped apart, Leda grabbing for her shirt while Duncan stood there, bare-chested and transfixed.

  “Isabel! You’re back early.” He at least had the grace to blush although he could not look me in the eye. “You weren’t supposed to be back this early. Why are you back? I mean—”

  My first reaction was bitter triumph. Something had happened between them, and I had been right. August had been right.

  The emotion was short-lived as pure rage fell into place, a red haze almost obscuring my vision. I managed to keep my voice mild, civil. “I see you were taking advantage of my absence.”

  Like being unable to look away from a train wreck,
I found my gaze captured by the two of them. In my mind’s eye, I saw again Duncan’s hands tangled in those blond strands, his mouth ravaging hers in a bruising kiss. The bounce of Leda’s bare tits as she tried to cover up her half-naked body.

  It appeared I’d arrived during Act One. Thank God they’d still been standing up. Any kind of horizontal involvement and I wouldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

  Duncan opened his mouth to speak but I held up a finger to forestall him. “Don’t even try to say this isn’t what it looks like. If I hear one hint of backtracking from you, I’ll grab the nearest spoon to practice my castration skills, although I sure do admire your package. Or at least I used to, before you shared it with another woman. Now who’s the lying sack of shit?”

  I’m not proud of the speech that came out of my mouth, nor the fingers curling into my palms with enough force to draw blood.

  “It was my mistake,” Leda confessed as she quickly donned her blouse, her face twisted in a grimace. “It wasn’t prearranged. Don’t blame Duncan. I wasn’t planning on coming over but I just couldn’t stop myself.”

  “Gee, that sounds tough,” I responded sarcastically.

  “Isabel…I’m sorry.” Duncan approached me cautiously, like I was some kind of wild animal, his open palms out and with slow steps. “It just sort of…happened. It was an accident.”

  My brave pep talk went right out the window, along with my guilt. I tried to move, to get away, though my legs tightened and my feet remained rooted to the floor. Fury swelled through me and I was grateful for the lack of firearms, the absence of any weapon I could use to make the dangerous desire in my subconscious come to fruition. I closed my eyes in the hope that whatever I saw in front of me was a product of my imagination or some sort of strange waking nightmare.

  It was neither.

  “What was it you told me, Duncan?” My voice began to shake and tears threatened. “I needed to act like an adult?” I took hold of the nearest item—Leda’s purse on the dresser—and threw it toward them. “Is cheating on your fiancée acting like an adult to you? You lied to me!”