Promises

by Bailey, Sarah

  He looked down at his plate, his eyes clouding over.

  “He’s the only one who knows how I feel about Avery. I didn’t tell him, he just knows me and her too well. He told me to break it off with Cassie, but she won’t talk to me now. So I’m stuck in limbo with her. I want to apologise and make sure she knows it wasn’t her.”

  I wasn’t going to say what he did was right because it wasn’t. Emotions. They make humans do fucked up shit. We all needed ways to cope with them. For years I’d become numb to them so I could survive. Now I was learning how to live again. To feel. So I really couldn’t judge James for trying to deal with his own by finding comfort in another person no matter how screwed up that was.

  “I think we got deep quickly again,” he said with a slight chuckle, but it was hollow.

  I pulled my hand away. He didn’t stop me this time, but he met my eyes. His were sad and that stabbed at something deep inside me.

  “I think the important thing to remember here is that you want to make it right with Cassie. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t bother. Humans are strange creatures. We don’t think before we act when emotions are involved. It’s only later when faced with the consequences of our actions when we realise we’ve fucked up. Often it’s too late to take it back. All we can do is say we’re sorry and we didn’t mean to hurt them.”

  “How did you get so smart about this kind of stuff?”

  “Therapy.”

  I grinned when he raised his eyebrows.

  “You’ve had therapy?”

  “Well, my therapists talked a lot to fill the silence. I’m pretty sure you have to actually work with them for it to be remotely effective. I stopped going after the fifth one they assigned me to. Mostly because she kept saying things like, if you don’t help yourself, Ellie, how can you expect to live a normal life? I mean I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as normal. She was a shitty therapist.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t think therapy worked. It was just me. I hated opening up to anyone. Talking about something like abuse and how it’d left me with scars I couldn’t look at without wanting to put my fist through the mirror was almost impossible. It took me back to the time it happened. Reminded me of the pain. I didn’t trust those therapists with my truth.

  “Sounds like it. What about the other four?”

  “One wanted to try hypnotherapy, to which I was just like, hell no. Two of them asked too many questions and the other one talked too much about coping techniques which were quite frankly useless. I got fed up. They were all privately funded, so I wasn’t paying for it, but after a while, it became pointless to continue. That’s when I said screw it, found myself the job at the hotel, my own flat and here I am just living instead. I’ve coped better in the past six months than in the two years of therapy.”

  It was the truth. The past six months had been better for me than when I was constantly being told I needed to relive the past in order to move forward. Reliving my experiences was unnecessary because I already did. Every night. I’d wake up in a hot sweat, thrashing in the sheets with tears streaming down my face.

  “You live by yourself then?”

  “Yeah, it’s a tiny studio, but it’s home.”

  He smiled and picked up his knife and fork again. I was surprised he hadn’t asked me anything about how come I’d had therapists privately funded. Surely that was something to pique his curiosity. Not that I would know how to tell him anyway. It seemed wrong for me to keep it a secret. That his best friend’s family were partially responsible for what happened to me.

  I couldn’t place the entire blame on them. The person who’d sold me to them was who I directed most of my anger towards. It was their fault I was left with all these mental and physical scars. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad most of the perpetrators were behind bars now. It’s just there were still those hidden in the shadows who would likely never be prosecuted for their involvement. I’d been surprised they’d left me alone given what I knew. I suppose I wasn’t seen as a threat. I wouldn’t talk because I’d been conditioned to keep silent.

  Silence had cost me too much. Obedience was ingrained. It took me a long time to be able to speak again. To be my own person. Now I had a voice and I was going to use it. Starting with my friendship with the man in front of me. I’d work out how to admit that truth to him soon.

  “You know… you could write her a letter and tell her you’re sorry that way, I mean because she won’t talk to you.”

  The idea just occurred to me. The napkin next to my plate jogged my memory. I wondered if we were going to do it again. Write down our promise to meet. I hoped he wanted to see me. Make this a regular thing. Even if we only opened up a little bit at a time, it still felt as though we were moving forward. Inch by inch. Talking about it with him lessened the ache in my chest by a fraction.

  He cocked his head to the side and bit his lip. My eyes were drawn to his mouth and the indents his teeth were making on his bottom lip. The feelings it elicited from me were unsettling. Not least because I’d never wondered what someone else’s lips would feel like under my fingers. I wanted to feel the curve of his on the pads of my fingertips, to know how soft they were and if they’d feel nice against my skin.

  What the hell? Where did these thoughts come from?

  I’d touched his hand earlier and that had been weird enough but wanting to feel more of James pushed me completely out of my comfort zone. My cheeks felt hot so my face was likely bright red. This was just plain embarrassing on so many levels. I looked down at my empty plate, surprised to find I’d already finished my meal. What was he thinking? Had he noticed me staring at his mouth?

  Ground swallow me up before I die.

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” he said finally after what felt like five minutes of pure torture on my end.

  “It’s not?”

  “No. Maybe I can put into words what I could never voice out loud.”

  I looked up at him even though my cheeks still felt hot. If he noticed I’d been staring, his expression didn’t give it away. Maybe he was just trying to make me feel at ease. Why was I being so awkward? I’d always been awkward around people since my rescue, but I didn’t want to be that way around him.

  The fact that I was so invested in this budding friendship already scared me no end. Especially given this was a guy and being around men wasn’t easy for me. Not after what happened.

  “You want dessert or should we go for a drink?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

  I was a little full, but I didn’t want this night to end quite yet.

  “A drink. I still owe you a story.”

  “I thought your therapist thing was one.”

  I shook my head. There were other things I wanted to say. Work up to telling him the truth by explaining a few things about my experiences.

  He took care of the bill before I could say anything. When we left, he looked down at me with a smile.

  “Are you about to tell me off for paying?”

  I fiddled with my coat pocket.

  “No, but you don’t have to do that for me.”

  We were supposed to be friends. I wanted to feel like we were on an equal footing. I wasn’t flush, but because I didn’t go out much, I had money to spare.

  “I want to.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer for a long moment. It was only when we got close to Frankie’s that his voice made me turn my head up to look at him.

  “Let me start by saying I’m not doing anything out of pity or charity. I genuinely want to know you, Ellie. I want your friendship because I like your company and I think you like mine, but you don’t give much away. You going to object to me wanting to treat you right?”

  I opened my mouth and closed it again, a little surprised by his admission. What could I say to that? What girl didn’t want to be treated right? Even a girl like me who’d had little kindness in her life wasn’t going to object.
>
  I didn’t say a word until we were in the bar and I’d bought us both a round of Amaretto Sours. Sat in my regular booth, which was surprisingly free, I looked up at him. We were closer together this time. Saturday nights were busier and louder in Frankie’s.

  “I like your company too,” I mumbled.

  His resulting smile took my breath away. The feelings in my chest were so alien. Everything about this was to me. I had to get a grip and fast.

  “I wanted to talk about what happened to me,” I blurted out before he could comment on what I’d said.

  “I’m listening.”

  I took a sip of my drink, just to settle my damn jumpy nerves. What was it about James? One minute I was perfectly calm around him and the next he was saying nice things to me and it had me acting all crazy. I didn’t understand myself or what was happening here.

  Squashing down all those weird feelings, I put my glass down and turned to him fully.

  “When I was fourteen… I was sold to a man who kept me for two years before I was given to another. There were others after that. For six long years I was living in hell and even though it’s been two and a half years since I was freed, I’m still not able to do things most normal people can.”

  I called it being rescued, because essentially that’s what it was. Gilbert Davenport’s house was raided by the police. He was my last master. They found me chained to a wall, half-starved with bruises all over my body. I was malnourished and mute. It was four months before I spoke and a year before I looked like a normal human being again. No longer skin and bones.

  “I didn’t speak much during those six years. It took me a long time to remember to use my voice. Even now, it’s weird for me to sit here and talk to you.”

  The way he was looking at me had my chest feeling tight. There was so much compassion and empathy in his expression.

  “It’s not that you make me uncomfortable, it’s… I’ve always had a hard time with men because of what happened. You’re actually the first guy I’ve had a real conversation with… and the first person I’ve willingly… um… touched.”

  I looked away.

  “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit that.”

  I swear a full minute ticked by before I felt a warm hand cover mine on the table. I shuddered under the unexpected touch. My heart was in my throat as I stared down at his hand on mine.

  “Is this okay?” he asked me, his voice low and laced with concern.

  I looked up at him under my lashes.

  “Yeah,” I whispered and I was being honest. James touching me was weird, but not for the reasons I expected. It didn’t make my scars itch nor give me a sickening feeling in my stomach. I just felt his warmth seeping into me. And that really was okay.

  “I appreciate your honesty, you know that, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Can I ask questions?”

  “If you want to.”

  He slid his hand off mine and gave me a lopsided smile. The contact was severed in that moment. I almost wished he hadn’t removed his hand because it made me feel safe and had me wondering what it would be like to be held by him.

  Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me this evening?

  “I don’t know how to ask this.”

  “Just say it.”

  Nothing he could ask me would be off limits really. I’d already made up my mind about him. He could have access to the darkest parts of my captivity if he cared to know about them.

  “How long after you were… sold did the abuse start?”

  “He gave me a month to adjust. Then he…” I stopped because that memory of the first time was awful. It hurt so much.

  “Ellie…”

  “He beat me with his belt because I told him I would never submit to him. At first, I was just his slave, it was only when I’d been with him six months and I’d turned fifteen that he… well, I’m sure you can guess what he did.”

  His blue eyes got dark and stormy, his expression twisted into that of disgust and horror.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  I wish I could say I’d had one single positive sexual experience in my life, but the sorry truth was I hadn’t. None of it had been pleasant for me. All my memories were associated with pain and distress. One day I’d find someone I trusted enough to show me how it could be. Touch me in the right ways. Give me pleasure instead of pain. I wanted to experience that. I wasn’t going to let what happened to me in the past ruin the rest of my life.

  “Bet when you agreed to this you didn’t think I’d turn out to be this dark and twisty,” I said, trying to make light of it all. “I totally wouldn’t blame you for finding this too much.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “Ellie, what happened to you is really fucked up.”

  “I know it is.”

  “It doesn’t mean I think any differently of you.”

  “You don’t?”

  He shook his head. I felt like he wanted to reassure me with a touch again but he didn’t. I wanted him to, so it bothered me. How could I tell him I wasn’t afraid of him?

  “No… Can I tell you something that has to stay between us?”

  “You already told me a story today.”

  “It’s not really my story to tell, but I want you to know.”

  I nodded, curiosity getting the better of me. Who was I going to tell anyway? He was literally my only friend in this world, in all honesty. At least I hoped we were friends now. We did agree last time that if we both showed up, we could officially call ourselves that.

  “My sisters, the twins… Our father took their, um, virginity when they were fifteen to get back at Dante for taking us away from him.”

  His voice was so quiet when he said it, I had to strain to hear him over the noise of the bar. And my heart fractured in my chest at the knowledge.

  “I didn’t know, Dante only told me the truth just before our dad was arrested. It’s really fucked up and the girls still suffer from flashbacks.”

  Just when I thought his father couldn’t get any worse. I obviously didn’t know the full extent of the abuse, but the things James told me and the charges brought against his father made it obvious Zachary Benson was just pure evil. Anyone who could do that to their own children lacked morals.

  “Your father deserves to be locked up for life.”

  “I hate him. He tore our family apart. We’re still trying to put the pieces back together and find some normality. It’s been a weird time, getting the business back to where it should be.”

  “I can imagine.”

  We lapsed into silence. I felt awful for his sisters because I knew what it was like to be taken against your will. Especially since they were still suffering from flashbacks all these years later.

  “Listen, it’s my birthday next week,” he said, his expression cautious.

  “Oh… you’ll be twenty four, right?”

  “Yeah. Liora’s arranged for us to have a small get together at the weekend.”

  He shifted in his seat, almost as if he was unsure of himself.

  “Are you free on Thursday?”

  I blinked. I was on an early shift that day, so I’d be done by four.

  “Um, in the evening. Sure… Why?”

  “Hold on.”

  He dug something out of his coat pocket and pulled one of the drink napkins towards us. I watched him write on it before he spun it around to me.

  I promise to meet you outside Benson’s offices on Thursday at 7 pm for birthday cocktails.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Is Thursday your actual birthday?”

  “It is.”

  “You really want to spend it with me?”

  He pointed at his signature below the note.

  “I think you have your answer right there.”

  I shook my head, grinning as I signed my name next to his. He picked up the napkin and put it in his coat pocket. Then he stole my drink
napkin and wrote down something else on it before he folded it, took my hand and tucked it into my fingers.

  “What’s this?”

  “Look at it later.”

  My curiosity almost got the better of me, but I popped it into my coat pocket without looking at it. What could he possibly have written down on it?

  We stayed out for another drink before calling it a night. I thanked him for dinner and got on my bus. I sat at the back and pulled the napkin he’d given me out of my pocket. I hadn’t honestly expected him to want to see me again so soon, let alone spent his birthday with me.

  I unfolded the napkin and stared down at the number on it.

  Hold up, did he just give me his phone number?

  I dug out my phone from my purse and entered it in. Pulling up my messages, I tapped one out to him.

  ME: You sure you want to spend your birthday with me?

  JAMES: I am. Don’t be late.

  I grinned.

  ME: I won’t… friends, right?

  JAMES: Friends.

  I felt a little giddy. Making a friend was another milestone. I’d made more progress in the past two months meeting James than I had done in years.

  Being around you makes me happy. I wish I could tell you how much.

  Chapter Seven

  James

  I’d taken Ellie’s advice and written a note for Cassie to say sorry for the way I’d treated her. I left it on her desk on Monday. So far, she hadn’t come to talk to me, but I hoped she’d read it. At least it made me feel less like a dick for never having apologised to her. Cassie was the first person I ever really saw for a long period of time. Mostly if I felt the need to get laid, it was a quick scroll through an app for a hook up.

  I didn’t resent Avery for it, but she’d screwed with my head. Relationships didn’t come easy to me. Neither did letting other people in. That part wasn’t her fault. It was the other things she did. Things neither of us could take back.