“Why do you think I’m not working out here?”
“No land line?”
“No, Bryer, but this is a far cry from a prison.”
“That’s not the point.” Pacing, attempting to come up with a solution.
“Gas station?”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck, Bryer.” Shrugging as if it’s no big deal
What’s wrong with this picture? I’m in a secluded private home with my ex-fiancé whose character is questionable to say the least, my current boyfriend wants to kick his ass, and the night after our first fight, I’m spending the night with the one man he detest the most. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I sit by the fire, defeated. The rug is thick and fluffy, and it distracts me momentarily, I see Cash walking towards me, his arms full. He’s carrying a bottle of wine, with a box under his arm. It’s worn and a little smashed, and when he hands it to me it’s dusty.
“Here, you can sign off on it later.” And hands me a scissors to open it.
“Sometimes I need what only you can provide, Mom,” I whisper, opening it slowly. I move the white paper out of the way. The first item is a picture of the three of us, my parents and me as a child. I don’t recall seeing it before, but it’s apparent we’re happy, they’re happy. The similarities are not lost on me, I favor my mother. Always have.
Next, I see a small jewelry box with a clasp that has been broken long ago. I open it to find an array of things and blissful joy overwhelms me, filled with mixed emotions of sadness and happiness at the same time.
I take each piece out, one by one. There’s nothing of value, monetarily, but it’s priceless to me. Her St Jude Metal she wore, I always wondered what happen to that. An old pearl ring, several silver dollars, one diamond earring, just one. I wish I would have known, I would have gladly replaced it for her.
Was I a good daughter, I question? Then the last piece, an old journal. I touch the old leather cover, mesmerized. I never saw her write in a journal. Conflict over her privacy battling within, yet she wanted me to have this, to know more about her.
I feel Cash standing over me, a glass of wine in his hand. I take it. I open the first page, and it says “I met a man today…the man I’ll marry.”
Chapter Eight
Day One
~Nathan~
“Stan, I want men around the clock. So far, you’ve given me no fucking answers, and I still don’t know where she is and if she’s alright. I’m living a nightmare here.”
Plunging into darkness with worry. My brain can’t register the predatory need I have to find her. We fought. No, fuck. I fought, I wouldn’t listen, and I blamed her for everything. She warned me he was evil, and I blamed her for his actions, I feel hollow, empty, terrified.
“Nathan, we’ll find her. It’s only been several hours. Give us some time to track her. You know I didn’t agree with the decision to keep our man outdoors. She slipped through the cracks, the ones she put in place.”
“Well, we can blame Bryer’s stubbornness for that,” I say with much regret.
“It’s not time to panic, Nathan, not yet.”
I hear his words, but they mean nothing, he’s only trying to keep things in perspective. My perspective is madly indifferent. And the fury I feel cannot be harnessed. “Bullshit, we know she left her office, unescorted, and without the security detail who was assigned to protect her. And then she disappears.” Running my hands through my hair, gripping it tight, to feel, feel something other than pain.
“Nathan, no one anticipated she would go off on her own.”
Why, why would she run, not answer her phone, slide under her security detail? Feeling the vein popping out of my neck, and my jaw tighten with rage and something else—love. “Just keep her safe, no matter the cost. And if that bastard has anything to do with her missing, he has a death wish.” I’ll be damned if he touches her, breathes on her, I’ll kill him.
“On it,” Stan says.
Gen. I reach for my phone and scan for her name.
“Nathan?” she answers apprehensively.
And my radar goes through the roof.
“Is she back?” she asks, continuing to escalate my horror.
“Back from where, Gen?” Drowning, preparing for the bomb to drop.
“She texted me that she had to pick up a box that was her mother’s, but I haven’t been able to reach her since.”
I feel her hesitation. The hair on the back of my neck begins to rise. “A box? From where Gen?”
She wavers.
I can feel the internal struggle of loyalty, yet her concern will win, I know it will. “Gen?” I gently push her.
“She’s with Cash, his office,” she answers reluctantly.
“Cash’s office is in M&M Global, I know for a fact she’s not there.” My heart speeding.
“Nathan, Cash always rents a house to work from, I think she’s there.”
“Fucking perfect. I can’t believe she would trust him enough to go with him, it doesn’t add up.”
“Unless he used Bryer’s mother to manipulate her.” She offers.
I can see him playing her, trapping her into making the only decision she could, blinded by her desire to reach a piece of her mother she never knew existed.
But that doesn’t calm me. “She’s with that lunatic in his house, an unknown location?” With each new piece of information, I’m heading for a meltdown. The rage searing through my body, only to be trumped by the agony. I fall into the couch, it catches me, as I feel doom surrounding me.
“Let me know if you reach her, I’ll do the same.” Hanging up on her.
~Day Two~
~Bryer~
Waking with a heavy heart and questioning my sanity over the last twenty-four hours, I leave my new designated room, standing at the top of the stairs. I’m curious at the sight of Cash staring out the window, his back to me and the steam from coffee clouding the glass.
“What’s so fascinating?” As I walk down the stairs.
“Three inches of snow, and it’s still coming down.”
“The car is coming, right?” Blame bouncing to Cash and back to me continually. He purposely put me in this situation, and like an idiot, I fell for it.
“I don’t know.” He turns and our eyes meet, his gaze unreadable.
Last night when I went in search for a room to sleep in, my choices were countless, until I noticed the gray t-shirt laying on one of the beds. My immediate thought went to Cash. I guess that’s for me. Wearing his shirt felt like a betrayal to the man I love, but I am accepting of the fact it’s only a shirt, something to sleep in. Would Nathan?
Everything faded away once I was under the comforter, holding my mother’s journal in my hand, feeling as if I was let in on a secret, her secret personally given to me. I swallow back the tears, anxious to read it. One last time tonight, I try my phone, willing it to work, but nothing. Worry climbs up my entire body, with the reality of what Nathan must be going through, and what he’s thinking. I push the anxiety aside and focus on one thing. Her.
I smell the old book—leather and roses? Her fragrance of choice since, forever. I keep the memories at bay while I open to the first page. Trembling fingers.
I met a man today…the man I’ll marry. This one’s a keeper, I swoon as his blond hair blows in the wind as we walk side-by-side. His eyes twinkle whenever he looks at me. I want to belong to him.
I barely resemble myself when I’m with him. The playful spirit, the laughter, his touch. I would have never predicted he would look my way. I still question, what he sees in me?
Having someone wonder where you are, miss you. It’s comforting.
He gave me a St. Jude’s pendant and a nifty silver dollar.
He also understands why I want to wait. Or he says he does.
Mom and Dad don’t approve, they call him a player, but they don’t know him like I do. He plays cards for money, but you can’t judge a man for that.
They say I’m playing with fire. Maybe I a
m, but he’s exciting, and I’m exciting when I’m with him.
Parents, they can be a drag sometimes. They have their own secrets to be worrying about, not mine.
Mary
I close the book, her first entry I think she was eighteen when she met my father. I never knew she felt that way about him, ever. I place the book on the nightstand and drift off to sleep. But not before worrying about Nathan.
~ ~ ~
“Breakfast? How normal of you,” I say. With blatant sarcasm.
“What?” Dragging the word out with that familiar draw of his, as he’s looking quite pleased with himself.
“You know Nathan will be coming to find me soon.” Wanting to wipe that cocky grin off his face.
“Of course he will, I would if I was him.” A corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile.
Feeling brave and a bit vindictive, I bring up the one thing that seems to upset him. “Why won’t you take the ring back Cash?” Taking a seat.
“It’s yours.” Not able to make eye contact with me.
“No, it’s only mine if we are engaged, and we’re not.” Sensing an argument approaching.
“I gave it to you, with the intent you would keep it forever.”
I can see the internal struggle, his easy-going confidence disappearing.
He shuts his eyes, his forehead creased. “I fucked up.”
“It was for the best.” His eyes flash to mine, confusion written all over his face. “It lead me to Nathan.” Making my feeling as clear as I can.
“I understand the consequences of my actions better than anyone, Bryer.”
I question his sincerity when I witness the hurt appear on his face. “I don’t think you ever will,” I say with venom. It’s so easy to trigger the feelings of that day, and all the days following. I’ll never forgive him for destroying so many parts of me.
“Things got out of hand.” He admits.
“I saw, your hands were on the wrong body,” said with bite of anger, so easily regained from the scars that I thought were healed.
“Do we have to talk about this now? I’d like to finish my breakfast, eat up.”
“I think it would do us both good to talk about that day, Cash.” Challenging him for the conversation we never had, the words never spoken, the pain never resolved. “That day,” I start.
“Yes, that day.” The tone of his voice plunging.
“What a lethal combination trust and love is. How fragile and easily destroyed it can be.”
He glances up at the ceiling, letting out a long breath. “I regret it all.” A line appearing between his brows.
“I believed in you, Cash, trusted you.” Fight back tears I didn’t expect to surface.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”
Surprised that those words mean something to me. What I would have given to have heard them then, but I have to take some responsibility, I never gave him a chance, I didn’t think he deserved one. It’s me that deserved those healing words. “I truly felt like I wasn’t enough.” Laying it all out here for the light to see.
“I was genuinely ashamed, still am.” He frowned. “I never had a plan to be unfaithful, Bryer. Sonia was convenient, and I was a prick. That day changed me. I knew what it was like to lose someone I love. “
“Yeah, me too. You were my whole world, Cash, and you destroyed me, my ability to trust.” And sitting here with him, it’s all still fresh and painful.
“I know what I did to you, Bryer.” He winces.
“Do you? You made a promise, then broke it.”
“I know. I’ve tried desperately to understand where it all went wrong, why temptation won.”
“You turned my life upside down.” Drowning in the murky depths of heartache. It’s etched in my mind forever. Like a scar never fully healed, I remember it all perfectly. Questioning my need to know more. “Why her? Was there more?” I ask foolishly, knowing however he answers I won’t believe him.
“What more can I say without hurting you, Bryer? But if you have to know, it was only her.”
“The stench of a lie.” As I roll my eyes, not allowing myself to be fooled.
“I know you too well, Bryer. Don’t give me that look.,” he says, trying to pull me out of the hole I’m in.
“I was so naive, young, I had no clue, Cash. It was all so heart wrenching.” My eyes burning into his.
“Believe it or not, I was deeply in love with you. I also knew, you would have never forgiven me.”
“You’re right, I still haven’t.”
Feeling as if we have gone as far as we can, I stand, gathering my plate, cleaning up. With my back turned, I ask, “What am I doing here, Cash?”
“If I was being completely honest, I would like your forgiveness.”
“I can’t give that to you.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
He stands, handing me his dish, then he reaches out for a curl, noticing my hands in the soapy water making it difficult to stop him.
I lean away as a subtle hint.
And steps back, taking the hint. “I was hoping I could make it up to you.”
I spin around quickly, and I can see he’s fighting back tears. He runs his hand through his perfect blond hair, and I watch him suffer, uncertain of his sincerity, I’m no fool. “Just accept my need to hate you, Cash, and we both can move on.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“It’s not up to you.” He sure is working it, his performance impressive. Although a tiny part of me wonders, what if, what if, there’s a layer of truth in what he’s admitting. The rational side screams do not show a sign of weakness, not to Cash, he’ll pounce on any opportunity. “I’m going upstairs, call me when the car arrives.” Eager to touch my mother’s words again, the one thing that will bring me bliss. “Then prepare yourself, Nathan is going to fuck you up.” Looking down, smiling at him as I climb.
“I’m sure he thinks he is,” he yells up, as he watches me go.
“Yeah, nice play, I’m sure he’s planning your death right now, and how you shanghaied me into coming with you.”
“Shanghaied? Your roots are showing, Bryer, Texas will always be who you really are.
I hear his words, but I’m already in the bedroom. Grabbing the journal and a spare blanket to keep warm in this monstrosity of a house.
I turn to the next entry.
Dreamy, that’s the perfect word. David can sweep a girl off her feet. I feel protected at his side. Unlike when I’m alone. He brought me a flower today, a daisy. Make love not war, he said. I hope he wasn’t hinting. I know girls my age have given themselves already, but I want my first time to be with the man I love. Eighteen isn’t too old, or that’s what I tell myself.
My girlfriend thinks I’m uptight, frigid, but she’s wrong. I’m choosey. The time will come when I know it’s right.
I bought some new bell bottoms today, and I’m wearing them with my yellow T-Shirt tonight. David’s picking me up, and we’re going to the drive-in movies. I don’t care if it is a western, I just want to be with him.
I can hear the commotion downstairs, I know to keep my door locked. I turn up my record player and listen to Bruce Springsteen.
Day Two
~Nathan~
“So, this is what heart break feels like,” I say to no one. Bloodshot eyes scaring the hell out of everyone. There’ll be no sleep until she’s back in my arms. Jesus, how could things go so wrong?
Laced with worry, I call again. “Stan, for God’s sake anything?” My temple throbs as I wait for the answer I know is coming.
“Nathan, I have every man on it. There’s no trail, no leads, no cell history to track the towers. The snow isn’t helping either.”
The vise gripping my chest just tightened. “So, what you’re telling me is she’s gone, and she’s with him?”
“No, that there is no trace, at this moment.” Attempting to calm the storm wreaking havoc on me.
Fuck!
She’s…gone…gone…gone…
Chapter Nine
Day Three
~Bryer~
I’m losing my mind. Why isn’t the driveway plowed? Why doesn’t the service send an SUV? Damn, if my phone worked, I’d be out of here by now. I stroll through the house out of utter boredom, and the distance away from Cash needed. I have to admit the house is crazy impressive. Who lives like this? Well, Nathan lives wealthy, on a much-smaller scale. This is just plain useless space.
I stumble into the workout room, sauna, whirlpool, I could try that later. Something to distract me from the epic mistake that got me stuck out here with the one man I swore I would never see again. I’ll keep him at arm’s length until I get out of here, and divert my thoughts of the two men that stir complete opposite emotions. I continue my thoughtless tour, unfocused.
Then around the next corner a full theater, stadium seating, a screen I couldn’t begin to measure and hundreds of DVDs on shelves. If I didn’t feel like a prisoner, and I was here with Nathan, I could see having a great time here.
But I’m not.
“I can hear your thoughts from here, Bryer,” Cash says as I walk into the great room.
“I highly doubt that.”
“As a matter of fact, I can. You forget I know you intimately, do you think you’re so easily forgotten?” He gestures for me to sit. “For starters, you’re worried about Nathan, he has to know you’re with me by now.”
I cringe at the thought, but Gen knows, and she would tell him.
“The journal is your only solitude, a piece of your mother given back to you, I understand it all.
And then there’s me.” Cautiously raising his arm to rest on the back of the couch.
I shrug, fighting the knowledge that he’s dead on.
Forgotten Promise (Forgotten Series Book 2) Page 6
