Broken Promises (Broken Series)

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Broken Promises (Broken Series) Page 5

by Dawn Pendleton


  SIX

  Luke

  The fact that she’d shown up at the bar I frequented on a regular basis was nothing short of bad karma. I figured I deserved it for what I’d revealed to her today. But she and her drunk friends insisting on chatting with my girlfriend? That was more than just bad luck. I should have been smart enough to see what was coming and high-tailed it out of there.

  I’d made a mistake today, several, in fact, and I should have stayed home. I’d left Mallory’s house feeling lower than low and I needed a drink. I remembered Carrie had wanted to hang out, so I called her and made plans to meet her at the bar after her shift.

  When I saw Mallory, Rainey, and Gabby sitting at a table in the back of the bar, I wanted to tuck tail and run. I hadn’t believed Mallory would end up saying something to Carrie, but she surprised me. After spending no more than twenty minutes at that table of death, Carrie had marched over to where I was talking to Baker and demanded I take her home.

  After a long discussion about our relationship and all the crap guys did not like to discuss, Carrie said we should breakup. It wasn’t unprecedented, but rejection was rejection. Of course, she felt like I was the one who rejected her, having almost kissed my ex. If it wasn’t so depressing, the whole thing would be beyond comical.

  After I dropped Carrie off at her apartment, I made my way back to the bar, determined to talk to Mallory. I needed to know why she had to retaliate that way. I actually liked Carrie, and even though we probably wouldn’t have been together forever, it wasn’t easy to end the relationship.

  I parked near Baker’s truck and waited for her to come out. Once she was tucked into my truck, my heart stuttered when she said she was fine. She wasn’t lying, of course, but I didn’t want to think about hot she was. I didn’t want to think about her at all. She wasn’t mine anymore. I needed to get over her. Easier said than done.

  “You are that,” I said and closed the door.

  I knew I slammed it but my brain was on fire. How was I supposed to stay the hell away from her like she asked when she was so damn gorgeous? I yanked open the driver’s side door and hopped in. I turned the key and whipped the truck out of the parking lot.

  “Easy killer, not all of us are used to crazy back road drivers,” she purred.

  She’d moved more toward the center of the truck and I gulped. I kept both hands on the wheel and did my best to ignore her. Despite my intentions to shout at her, she was too far gone for it to even be worth the trouble. I would have to let her know how angry I was tomorrow.

  “Buckle up,” I instructed.

  To my dismay, she belted herself into the center, the strap tight across her hips.

  “Why does Daddy have to die, Luke?” she asked.

  Crap. A drunk and emotional Mallory was not a good mix. And definitely not someone I wanted to deal with.

  “Did you have fun with your friends tonight?” I ignored her question and hoped to distract her.

  “Yeah, it was fun,” she said. “I’m sorry about Carrie, Luke. Did she dump you?”

  “Yeah, it was fun,” I said, mimicking her words.

  She laughed, the sound sharp and vibrant in the silent cab.

  “I really am sorry,” she whispered and looked down at her hands.

  I accepted her apology. It might be the only one I ever got. “I know, Mal. It’s fine. She wasn’t the one for me.”

  “So who is the one for you, Luke?”

  You are, I thought.

  “I have no idea. Someday, I’ll figure it out,” I said, definitely not wanting to have this conversation.

  “Did I used to be the one?”

  She stared up at me and had to force myself to look back at the road and away from her pretty face and big blue eyes.

  “I thought so, but things just weren’t meant to be.” I hoped she wouldn’t remember much of the conversation in the morning.

  “I guess not,” she said glumly.

  She rested her head on my shoulder and it felt like we were back at the prom.

  It didn’t matter that we’d broken up at her senior prom, on a boat, no less—we had to endure each other’s company for the remainder of the night. She asked me to pretend things were okay and we could tell everyone tomorrow. I agreed, but only because I didn’t have much choice. Unless I was prepared to jump off the balcony and swim to shore, I was staying at the prom until it was over.

  We did a fair job pretending for the night; not a single person suspected a thing. I was proud of our efforts, but I still had to drive her home.

  “I’m exhausted,” she yawned when we were back in my truck. “Do you mind?” She gestured to my shoulder and I shook my head. This would be the last time I was this close to her. She laid her head on my shoulder and sighed.

  “Why does it have to be so hard, Luke?” she whispered.

  I didn’t have an answer. We were too different to make it work. I wanted to stay in Casper and grow old here; she wanted a fancy Boston life. We were doomed before we ever even began.

  The similarities between that night and our current situation weren’t lost on me. It felt as if history was repeating itself and I wasn’t sure I could handle that. A broken heart from Mallory Wells was more than enough the first time around. I didn’t need to feel the hurt all over again.

  I heard a soft snore from beside me and let out a sigh of relief. If she was sleeping, she couldn’t pester me with questions about our past and us. I turned the radio up a bit to fill the silence and regretted it immediately. Our song was playing. My heart constricted, the world stopped spinning for a moment and my heartbeat raced on.

  I realized in that moment, I would never be able to escape the past we shared. Even though my apartment had been completely redecorated and there wasn’t anything in it to remind me of her, moments like this would happen for the rest of my life. I would hear our song, or even any song that reminded me of her, and I would feel the pain all over again. If I hadn’t been able to move on after three years of separation, I probably wasn’t going to anytime soon with her back in town. How on earth did people ever survive break-ups?

  Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the one with a problem—I couldn’t let go of Mallory. She seemed to have been able to live a happy life in Boston, away from her friends, her family, and from me. I’d never received so much as a phone call from her since her prom. I’d written her several letters over the course of that first year. The first had taken me two full weeks to write and at least a month to gather the courage to send. They weren’t returned, so I knew she’d received them. She never replied, never called; I hadn’t heard a word from her. Her stand on how she felt about me was clear. There was no way to know whether or not she’d read them, though. I knew she’d rejected me already, but I was, for some unknown reason, a glutton for punishment.

  I pulled into the driveway of her house and gently shook her awake. She sat up, looking more than just a bit disoriented.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “You’re home,” I said.

  “Oh good. Are you going to carry me? I feel sick,” she muttered, her head falling back to my shoulder.

  I laughed but recognized that she would definitely need help into the house. I wanted to drop her at the door and take off, but I knew I couldn’t. There was no way she would make it to her room. I got out of the truck and pulled her out through the driver’s door. Her body was almost completely limp, which meant I would, indeed be carrying her. I hauled her into my arms, her legs draped over one arm while the other supported her back. Her head lolled to the side until it rested against my chest. I managed to grab her purse with my fingers and walked to the house.

  Thankfully, the door was unlocked, just the way Joe always left it. There wasn’t a high crime rate in Casper, especially when everyone knew everyone else’s business. I made my way down the short hallway to her room and laid her gently on the bed. Her duffel was on the floor so I picked it up and put it and her purse on the desk. It amazed me how lit
tle this room had changed in the last three years. Even though I saw Joe on a regular occasion, I always made sure to avoid Mallory’s room. The memories haunted me.

  “You coming to bed?” she asked.

  I turned to her, shocked. She lay on her side, her arm outstretched toward me. She crooked her finger at me and a smile spread across her lips.

  “Come on, Jason, let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

  Jason? It made sense that she would have moved on, but hearing another man’s name on her lips only crushed me further. It was bad enough I wanted her again, but she was seeing someone? Pain cursed through my body and I fled the room, praying she wouldn’t remember this moment in the morning.

  I made it to the tailgate before I threw up behind my truck. Everything I ate came back full force. It wasn’t my finest moment. Lucky for me, there was no one to share in my misery.

  Headlights appeared at the end of the driveway and I wished I could make myself invisible. I recognized Baker’s truck before he reached me. I even managed to quit vomiting and wipe my mouth on my sleeve. No reason my best friend needed to see me like this.

  “You okay?” he asked when pulled up. He turned the lights off and hung out his window.

  “Just peachy,” I muttered.

  Baker had a tendency to see through me, and I didn’t exactly want him digging into what happened tonight.

  “Mallory fucking Wells. Did you think she would ever come back?” he asked.

  I tried to disengage the conversation before it got out of hand. “I don’t know what I thought, man. I’m not feeling so hot, though. I’m going to head home.”

  “Oh, cool. I’ll follow you over. I need a beer.”

  Baker had a habit of inviting himself over. I wasn’t impressed, but I couldn’t exactly tell him the reason he couldn’t come over was that I wanted to wallow in self-pity, so I nodded and jumped in my truck. Baker followed me to my place. After I grabbed us a couple of beers, I sat in my old man recliner and Baker sprawled out on my couch. I turned the TV on ESPN and waited for the inquiry. To my surprise, he wasn’t interested in talking about Mallory.

  “Man, did you see how smokin’ hot Rainey was tonight? LA has been good for that girl,” he said. “I made a total ass of myself, though.”

  I chuckled. “You? No way! What happened?”

  “Well, when she showed up and handed me her ID, I didn’t even recognize her, first of all. Then when I recognized her name, I sort of went on and on about how fat she used to be and how amazing she looks now.” He grimaced.

  “So, you made a judgment based on a pretty face, or in her case, hot body, and she didn’t respond in kind? I can’t imagine why not.” I barely managed to say it with a straight face. My sarcasm wasn’t appreciated.

  “Shut up, Luke. I liked her when she was in high school, even with the extra pounds. She was the one who gave me the cold shoulder after prom night, remember?”

  I did remember. In her efforts to join forces against me with Mallory after prom, she’d dismissed Baker in every way. I imagined it was difficult for her, since she and Baker actually had a perfect prom night together.

  I groaned. “How could I forget? You went on about it all summer.”

  “I did not,” he argued.

  “Seriously, do you even remember that summer? ‘Luke, she was something special. She gave her virginity to me and then dumped me! What kind of girl does that?’ You were one lovesick pup, dude. Maybe even more so than me,” I said.

  Baker smirked. “No one has even been more love sick over a girl in the history of the earth than you were over Mallory. I never got why you were so into her. She’s kind of average looking.”

  He knew the more he riled my temper, the less likely I was to think about how unfortunate it was that he got laid on prom night and I didn’t.

  “Screw you. You were just mad you had to settle for her fat friend. And then she went and got skinny, just to show you up,” I retorted. I’d never really thought of Rainey as fat; she’d been a little chunky in high school, but I wanted to aggravate Baker more than insult Rainey.

  “You’re an ass,” he said as he took the last swig of his beer and stood. “I’m going to get home, man. Come by the bar tomorrow.”

  Since he’d bought the bar, he took pride in working a million hours a week.

  “Sure thing. Drive slowly,” I said with a laugh.

  His apartment was two houses down. I knew he wouldn’t drive; he would walk home and grab his truck in the morning.

  That was the thing about growing up—you eventually turned into a responsible adult. I wondered when Mallory and I would start acting like adults.

  SEVEN

  Mallory

  I woke up the next morning to an excessive clanging noise coming from the kitchen. The rattling pots made my head pound even more than it already did. I remembered why I always took ibuprofen before I went out when I lived in Boston. But I hadn’t planned on getting so toasted last night. It was all Luke’s fault.

  Images of the night before flashed in my head and I groaned. I didn’t want to remember ruining his relationship with Carrie. He would hold it over my head forever. I had a vague memory of him in the parking lot, but I didn’t remember much else. I couldn’t even remember how I got home. Ugh, I was a mess.

  A knock on my bedroom door had me yanking up the covers.

  “You don’t have anything I’ve never seen before, girl. Get up. We have to pick up your dad in an hour,” Rainey said matter-of-factly, and then she disappeared down the hall.

  “What are you even doing here?” I yelled, slamming my pillow onto my face. “And how are you not hung over?!”

  Her face reappeared in the doorway and I lifted my head to look at her smiling face.

  “Luke called me. He said he was given specific instructions to leave you alone, but he wanted to make sure you were on time to pick up your dad. It was super sweet of him. And I’m not nursing a hangover because I didn’t exactly drink last night,” she said conspiratorially. She disappeared again and I sat up slowly.

  My head ached, but it wasn’t the worst hangover I’d ever had. I could manage. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, still clad in my clothes from last night.

  Rainey turned to look at me when I entered the kitchen. “It’s too bad you slept here, because wearing those clothes again this morning would make for one hell of a walk of shame.”

  “Shut up. Where’s the coffee?” I mumbled.

  “No coffee, it’s bad for a hangover. Here.”

  She thrust a bottle of water and two ibuprofen in my hands. I wasn’t impressed, but I sat on the barstool at the counter and downed the water and pills.

  “How did you end up not drunk last night? I saw you have several drinks,” I said.

  “Well, Jimmy and I kind of have a deal. I never drink alcohol, but he makes the drink colorful and pretty so I can act like I’ve been drinking. We established the deal when I was home for Christmas and Gabby demanded we go drinking. I’m not much of a drinker,” she confessed.

  “Oh. Good for you, I guess. It wasn’t my intention to have so many, but Gabby kept ordering them and I felt obligated.”

  “What are you, sixteen? I’d think you would be above peer pressure at twenty-one years old, Mal,” she lectured.

  “I know, I know,” I mumbled again and looked down at my water. “Can I at least have some orange juice?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Rainey grabbed a glass and poured me some, setting the glass and a plate of toast and fruit in front of me.

  I felt nauseous just looking at the plate. “I don’t think I can eat.”

  “Eat it. You’ll feel better,” she promised.

  I managed to choke down half a piece of toast and a few grapes. When I pushed the plate away, she sighed.

  “You don’t eat enough,” she complained.

  I laughed. “I eat plenty, Mom. I’m trying not to throw up after a night of binge drinking.”

  Rain
ey smiled and cleared my plate for me. “Take a shower and we’ll get going. We’ve got to pick up your dad and I want to stop at the store on the way.”

  I did as she instructed. Thirty minutes later, I was ready to go. Rainey insisted we take her mother’s minivan, since it would be easier for Dad to get into. I reluctantly agreed, as a trip to town in a minivan wasn’t exactly riding in style.

  “Since when do you care about what other people think?” she asked once we were on our way to the hospital.

  “I don’t,” I replied a little too defensively.

  She laughed. “Well, you didn’t really care about what Luke thought of you last night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you remember talking to Carrie last night?”

  “Luke’s girlfriend, right? I’m pretty sure I ruined their relationship.” I sighed. “Why would we do that? I am an awful person.” I felt lower than dirt for doing it and even worse for not remembering all the details. “I’ll have to apologize to Luke.”

  “You did. He drove you home last night,” Rainey said.

  “How do you know that? Does the whole town know?” My voice spiked to the point I was nearly shrieking. I couldn’t believe how badly this day was turning out to be.

  “No, the whole town doesn’t know. Luke told me when he called me this morning. He said he tucked you in and nothing happened. When I apologized to him about the whole Carrie situation, he told me you had apologized too and he forgave us. I guess he wasn’t really into the relationship, so no harm done,” she said.

  So not only had I gotten drunk enough not to remember exactly what occurred, Luke was being extra sweet about the whole thing. Just great, I thought.

  “Well, I will apologize to him again, when I’m sober and can actually remember doing so,” I muttered.

  I was appalled by my own behavior. No matter how much I was dealing with, I did not want to be the girl who took out all her frustrations when she was drunk. And on innocent people, no less. Ugh. I needed to call Luke as soon as possible.

 

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