That's a Relief (Promises, Promises Book 3)

by Victoria Klahr

  He’s being excessively apprehensive, and he doesn’t give a fuck that it’s pissing me off.

  A new text is sent from a blocked number every day, and every day Seth takes his anger out on his drum kit in the garage. So far, Michael has been able to word each text in a way that makes them feel deadly but look innocent. The police can’t do anything.

  I haven’t shown Seth the one I got after I got out of the shower, afraid to ruin the one day he finally seems to have let himself relax.

  Solid arms wrap around my waist and Seth’s stubble tickles my cheek as he places a kiss on my jaw. I close my eyes, still stirring the pot of buffalo chicken dip that’s on the stove.

  “When you touch me,” I whisper, bringing my lips to his, “you make me forget everything.”

  “What’s your name?” he teases, pulling my top lip between his.

  “Is it important?” I ask in a breathy voice.

  “Not for the next thirty minutes,” Seth says, sliding his hand down my thighs and under my dress. His smirk shows every ounce of playfulness I’ve been missing all week. He brings his mouth to my ear. “All you need to know is how to yell, ‘Oh, Seth’.” A shock of pure delicious pleasure pulses in my lower abdomen.

  Screw the dip. I take it off the stove and wrap my body around Seth’s as he carries me to our bedroom. Before we make it past the threshold, I hear a shriek and a deep laugh.

  “They never stop! They knew we were coming and they’re still f-ing!” Brooke’s loud voice makes Seth cringe and groan.

  “This is far from over, Pussycat,” Seth says, his eyes molten with lust. One thing that isn’t lacking in our house is the fiery passion we have for each other. “Meet me here at halftime.”

  I nod, stupidly silent, before turning to my best friend and her husband.

  “Don’t be jealous I love touching my woman, Brooke. Take that up with your husband,” Seth says, turning to them and flashing a carefree smile.

  “You know exactly how to make things worse, don’t you, Seth?” Brandon asks, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Seth walks up to Brandon and hits him on his back, making him wince, and grabs Alec. “Come on, little man. Let’s teach you how the big boys play football.” He comes back to me for a quick kiss. “Kickoff in twenty.”

  With that, the men walk outside, soon followed by Robby, Dom, and Brody, who don’t bother coming in and saying hi to us. Brooke collapses on the couch and blows a chunk of platinum-blond hair from her face. “Seth’s got a point, you know,” she says, surprising me. Hell just froze over if she’s agreeing with Seth.

  “What are you talking about?” I plop down in the seat next to her, sipping the lemonade I made for us.

  “Brandon’s been really distant lately. He’s always working and claims to be meeting up with Brody at least once a week.” She turns her light-blue eyes on me. “He’s keeping something from me. I know it.”

  “Bad hiding or protective hiding?”

  “F. I don’t even know anymore.” I dip my head, trying to hide my grin at her new motherly tendency to abbreviate cuss words, since Alec is trying to talk—if you count gurgling and drool as talking. “He’s evasive and makes excuses not to be around me.”

  “I don’t know, Brooke. Seth hasn’t said anything to me, and those two talk all the time. I can see if I can get intel from Seth.”

  She nods, and looks out my front window. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that.”

  It’s not very often Brooke needs reassurance. When she does, it’s usually because her absent parents have told her she’ll never be good enough for them. One of the reasons I love her so much is because she’s not an over-emotional drama queen, so when she’s actually upset, I hurt for her.

  “No problem, B.”

  We sip our lemonade and exchange stories about the students in our classrooms, laughing so hard sometimes that our drinks spray out our noses. I wonder if parents laugh this hard at their kids behind their backs, too. Or maybe we’re just terrible teachers. Either way, I love these brief moments of friendship that we get in between all the grown-up responsibilities we have.

  Once we finish up our girl time, we head outside to check in on the boys. They’re in the middle of a play, Robbie taking the quarterback position and throwing the ball to Dom, who is incredibly fast. Seth clips him in his side, but Dom doges the block and makes it to the end zone. His touchdown dance would be banned in most family venues.

  Seth stays on the ground and points an accusing finger at Brody. “You could’ve had him if you were payin’ attention!” Seth’s southern lilt is always stronger when he’s mad or frustrated.

  Brody’s hands are busy pulling his shoulder-length black hair back into a hair tie, and his eyes catch mine, giving me a mischievous smirk. Clearly, Brody isn’t as competitive as my future husband. I lean against the rail on the back porch and watch Seth get up and run his fingers through his wild hair.

  “You sure you don’t play for my team, bro?” Robbie pipes in, checking out Brody across the yard. The thought has certainly crossed my mind, too.

  Brody’s thick muscular body fills out his dark jeans and stretches his blue polo shirt, and his thick glossy hair makes even the most committed woman want to reach out to play with it. He’s always sporting a smile and trying to get everyone around him to laugh. He’s the CEO of his family’s million-dollar brewery company but doesn’t come off broody and stuck-up like I would expect in other mega-business owners.

  Brody grins wide, never bothered by questions about his sexuality. “Positive. But if I ever get it up for you, Rob, you’ll be the first to know.” He starts walking in my direction, bringing the other guys’ focus to Brooke and me. “Hey there, hot stuff, ready to dump that loser and marry me?” He hitches his thumb in Seth’s direction, who’s trying to get Alec to throw the football to him in the grass.

  “Got my bags packed and ready to go,” I say, letting him wrap me up in a hug.

  “Runaway bride style, I like it.” He kisses the top of my head. “Congrats, sweetheart,” he whispers.

  “Can’t trust any of my friends to keep a secret, can I?” I ask deliberately at Brooke, who probably blabbed about my pregnancy the first chance she could.

  “Actually that was me, Pussycat,” says Seth, holding a drooling baby in his arms. Of course it was; I should’ve known. He’s so excited, he’ll tell strangers in a restaurant or store that we’re having a baby. He gives me a pointed look. “And you better not have a bag packed.”

  Brody’s arm rests across my shoulders and squeezes me hard, sending Seth a grin so wide it has to hurt. It’s a real testament to how far Seth and I have come—that he doesn’t feel threatened by Brody or his constant innuendos about stealing me away. “I had her heart since the moment she laid eyes on me,” Brody brags, wiping imaginary dirt off the shoulder of his blue polo shirt.

  “You wish you were that lucky, man,” Seth says, never doubting where my heart truly lies. He gives me a wet kiss on my cheek and walks to the other side of the porch.

  “Yeah.” Brody looks away for a second, lost in thought, as all the other guys grab a beer from the cooler.

  I rest my head on Brody’s shoulder as I watch Seth start the grill, explaining the dos and don’ts of grilling to Alec as if he can really understand him. “You okay?” I ask Brody, while everyone’s attention is somewhere else.

  “Sure,” he says, taking a sip of the beer Brandon threw his way.

  “I don’t think I believe you.’’ For all the shit-talking and goofing around Brody does, I never hear him talk about himself on a personal level. Privacy is something I understand, so I’ve let it go in the time we’ve become friends. I don’t like trusting other people with my story in case they abuse it. I get the feeling Brody feels he same way.

  Brody drops his arm from my shoulder and rests his hip against the rail to face me. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “Are you pining after someone, Brody?” I keep my voice low, turning my body to hi
s.

  His gaze shifts to our backyard and he sighs. “That’s the most simplistic way you could put it, Josie. It’s not pining if you’ve already accepted that it can’t ever happen. Like ever.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ve accepted that at all.”

  He shrugs and I can tell he won’t elaborate on it any further. My curiosity is burning, though. Who is the girl who brings a look of longing and loneliness to a person who is always so carefree and cheerful?

  We slip into an easy conversation, and the tension in his posture eases the more we talk. Everyone takes the burgers and hotdogs inside to eat so they can watch the game. This is exactly what Seth and I needed. In a week filled with fear and clinging onto each other like it may be the last moment we have, we needed today to relax and focus on trivial things like football and small talk.

  The tight cord of tension between us loosens the further we get into the day, and by halftime, I’m more than eager to have a quickie in the bedroom. Brandon and Dom get up and go to the backyard to throw the football. I stay in Seth’s lap, half-listening to Brody and Robbie debate professional soccer teams.

  Seth’s mouth finds my neck, kissing it sensually as his hands slide across my abdomen. “I’m gonna make you come so hard, baby. I’ll meet you in the room in two minutes,” he whispers against my ear. Breath leaves my body and I snap my thighs together when he starts sucking my ear into his mouth.

  I jump up and Brooke looks at me, quirking her perfectly-penciled eyebrow. “Be right back,” I sputter, making my way to the bedroom.

  As soon as I close the door, I walk to Seth’s side of the bed to grab my vibrator from his side table drawer, knowing that the sight of me using it will drive him crazy.

  Shuffling through the disaster of his drawer is a hassle, and I have to pull out a bunch of papers and sketches before I reach what I’m looking for. I accidently knock over his wallet and keys as I’m trying to shove the sketches back in.

  “Shit,” I mutter when all his cards fall out of their slots. I keep telling him to buy a new wallet that isn’t worn out from years of use, but he never listens to me. They land on a small black bag that’s sticking out halfway from under the bed. I rush to put the cards back in his wallet, until I’m staring at one particular card I don’t recognize.

  Chapter 16

  Josie

  The door creaks open and closes softly, but it’s muted while my mind is trying to make sense of what I’m holding.

  “You can’t hide from me Pussycat. Plus, we don’t really have time for role play, so you might as well come out,” Seth says teasingly.

  I stand up and turn around to face him. His face falls into one of confusion at my expression.

  “Why do you have a concealed handgun permit?” I ask, holding out the permit I found in the mix of his cards.

  He swallows hard and takes the permit from my hand. “Let’s talk about this later, Jos.” His tone is firm, but he won’t look at me as he walks over to his side of the bed to pick up the rest of my mess. He kicks the black bag under the bed, and I’m suddenly unable to breathe.

  My hands shake as I point to where the bag just was. “What was in there, Seth?”

  He turns to me and takes my face in his hands. “Josie. Calm down, baby. We should really talk about this later. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  I shove his hands off my face and take a step back. “I have to worry about it! Do you have a gun in our home? Is that a gun in that bag?” The pitch in my voice gets higher and my eyes widen from the pure shock stabbing me. Anxiety suffocates me, the ache in my throat making it harder to breathe.

  Seth takes a step toward me, but I move away before he can grab me. He sighs and weaves his hands in his hair, pulling at the roots. “Fuck Josie. Can’t you fucking wait? You want to start this here with all our friends out there?”

  “Yes!” My anger grows the longer he waits to answer my questions. “I want to know now if you brought a fucking gun into my house!”

  “Fine, Jos. You want to do this now? Fine. Yes, I have a gun permit. Yes, I have a gun. Yes, I plan on carrying that gun every single fucking time you leave this house.”

  A small cry passes my lips and I sink onto the mattress. “That was one of the deal breakers, Seth. You know I hate guns. We agreed when we moved in that we wouldn’t own one. What the fuck were you thinking?” I look up at him, confused and hurt.

  He winces slightly before kneeling down in front of me. “It’s not like I did it lightly, Jos. Michael is out of prison. He’s sending you threats three times a day. I need to have a way to protect you.”

  “With a gun?” I try to pull away from him, but his grasp on my thighs tighten.

  “Yes! With a fucking gun. I’ve known how to shoot a gun my whole life. I’m not doing this blindly.”

  “Just turning a blind eye to my morals, right? Because how I feel about it doesn’t matter.”

  “This isn’t just about you, Josie!” Seth says, raising his voice and pulling away from me. “This is so much bigger than your stupid fucking rule not to keep a gun in the house.”

  “It’s not stupid! You know how strongly I feel about this, Seth! It’s a deadly weapon. I’m not comfortable with that! What’s happening to you?” I stand up and walk across the room, pacing as if it can help me understand what happened to us.

  “This isn’t for your goddamn comfort, Jos. This isn’t some fucking ploy to break your trust!” He pulls at his hair again, pleading to me with his eyes. “What’s happening to me is that I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t want you to do that with a gun!”

  “I don’t fucking care!” he yells, throwing his arms up in the air. “There are so many more people involved here, Jos. You aren’t the only one I’m worrying myself sick about. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re carrying my baby!”

  “Nice, Seth. Real nice.” I give him a scathing look, and his jaw clenches in response.

  “I’m not fucking joking around,” he growls, voice turning low. “I will do anything to keep you and that baby safe. I would die for you two. And, yes, I will kill him for you, too.”

  “I’m not asking you to!” That’s the real problem. The fact that he is so sure he would murder someone for me.

  “You don’t have to, Jos!” He slaps his hand over his heart. “This is my choice. This is what I can do to make sure he doesn’t come near you again. So he doesn’t touch you again. So he doesn’t rip your clothes, throw you on the pavement, and rape you again. So he doesn’t wrap his hands around your throat just to watch you die by his hand.” Seth gradually gets closer as he relays each of his fears. My heart hurts worse after each slash of the truth. “I refuse to let him take you from me. When he comes after you, I will be ready.”

  “Sethy,” I whisper, closing the distance and standing in front of him. A tear slips out of my eye and he follows it with his, a look of pure heartache etched in his face. “You’re not thinking about the consequences of what you’re saying. I would never want you to live with someone else’s blood on your hands.”

  “I don’t need to understand that,” he says softly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “All I need to understand is that you and our baby are alive and not in danger.”

  “Please get rid of the gun, Seth. This is … Seth, this isn’t something I’m going to change my mind about. I’m begging you to get rid of it.” For so many reasons, I don’t want it in my house. In part, it’s a moral issue, but it’s the reality of what he would be putting himself through if he took someone’s life that bothers me the most.

  He takes a step back and shakes his head. And for a reason I can’t fathom at the moment, he looks so hurt that I would ask him to get rid of the weapon. “No, Josie. I’m not getting rid of it. You can’t ask me to do that. I love you, but this isn’t something I’m willing to do.”

  “Why, Seth? Why can’t you do this for me? I don’t need you to avenge my rapist. I need you not to be in prison for
murder!”

  “And I need you not to be dead!” he roars, pounding a fist on the dresser, veins bulging in his neck and face reddening. “Dead, Jos! There’s no fucking coming back from death! I will risk anything to make sure you and my child do not fucking die.”

  “We’ll find a different way,” I plead. “We’ll get a restraining order.”

  He barks a sarcastic laugh. “A restraining order is only good after it’s been violated, Jos. Come on. Don’t be so fucking naïve.”

  Suddenly, my pent-up anger bursts through. I’m livid. Every goddamn day I’ve been letting Seth take his anxiety to a new extreme, and I’ve had enough.

  Pointing a finger at him, I narrow my eyes. “You don’t get to call me naïve, Seth. Not when you’re naïve enough to think that suffocating me is the only way to keep me safe from Michael. You think he doesn’t know where I live? Do you really think he could get my cell number and still not know everything else about me?”

  “Suffocating you? Oh, come-the-fuck-on. Every precaution I take is to—”

  “To protect me.” I wave a flippant hand. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You don’t even fucking see that you’re making everything worse! I feel like a prisoner in my own home.”

  “You want to go out, Jos? You want to risk your life and our baby’s? Go the fuck ahead.” He bends down until he’s a breath close to my face. “But you better fucking believe I’ll be right there with my gun ready to pull the trigger when he finds you.”

  “Why violence, Seth? I don’t get it!”

  “You don’t get it because you never saw yourself beaten and bruised and on the brink of death, Josie!” he yells, breathing hard. “You didn’t see blood pouring out of your raw, scraped skin. You didn’t see the tattered clothes that showed every single place he violated you. You didn’t hold yourself in your arms, begging a God you don’t even believe in to bring you back to me. You didn’t listen to the screams of terror from every nightmare you had.” He pushes his chest against mine, his jaw shaking as he speaks. “You don’t understand it because you have no fucking clue what it’s like to watch the person you love most in the world suffer and not be able to do a damn thing about it.”