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

by Victoria Klahr

  His words shake me to my core. Hot tears stream down my cheeks and I fall to the floor. I’m a victim, but I’ve never looked at what happened to me from the outside. A sob breaks free and I start rocking myself as I feel the anxiety attack building. So many other people were affected by what happened to me, and I’ve been ignoring their fears. Why should they be scared that Michael might come after me again? It’s me he wants. Not them.

  But it’s not as simple as that. Seth is terrified because he saw everything that Michael did to me. To Seth, I’m betraying him by asking him to remove the one thing he thinks can protect me from that fate again.

  “I’m sorr—” I start but Seth interrupts me by holding up his hand. I finally get the nerve to look at his face, and my heart breaks in response. I want to take it all back—to go back and never yell at him for trying to keep me safe.

  “Stop, Josie. I … I’m struggling to keep it together right now. I need to get some air. I’ll be back later.” His hands shake as he shoves them though his hair. “I’ll tell everyone to leave.”

  He stops as he opens the door, hanging his head and clenching his fist, reluctant to look at me. “Please stay here, Jos. Or go to your dad’s if you need to leave. Just don’t go out alone. He’s probably watching every move you make.”

  With that, he closes the door behind him and leaves. There’s brief mumbling in the living room, and then I hear multiple cars pulling out of the driveway. Seth’s being one of them.

  I get up and scream as loud as I can. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m so fucking sick of being stuck in the house. And more than that I’m fucking sick of this sadistic asshole ruining my life.

  I knock everything off of my dresser, glass and jewelry breaking on the floor. Then, because that’s not enough to stem the overwhelming sorrow I feel tearing me to pieces, I kick over my side table, spilling out all its contents and breaking the lamp. Who said getting angry doesn’t solve anything? Because it feels hella good to break some shit.

  I collapse against the bed and start crying. Sobbing for what our relationship has come to, for the awful things I said to him, for making him relive my rape over and over again, and for assuming he should live his life the way I feel is appropriate, simply because I was the victim of an assault.

  When the crying stops and my chest aches from sobbing so hard, I crawl on the floor to pick up the mess I’ve made. My life feels a lot like the floor looks. A fucking disaster. My hands glide over something metal, and I bring it closer to inspect. Just like that, my anger comes back. Maybe a little unwarranted and misplaced, but enough to get me off the floor and reaching for my keys.

  It’s time I confront this problem.

  It’s time to take Blake’s stupid fucking box and throw it at his face.

  Chapter 17

  Seth

  I feel raw. Beat down and completely exposed to the harshest elements. With every word Josie and I flung at each other, I felt us shifting, changing paths—no longer in sync. She wants me to give up the only way I know how to protect her, and I’m terrified to comply.

  I’ve done everything for her. I’ve compromised on so many issues I’ve lost count. Because it’s never mattered what I want. All that has ever mattered to me is that the woman I love is happy. I would say yes to anything she asks me. I just can’t say yes to this.

  My head falls against the steering wheel, trying to push the horrid images that started as soon as I left her behind out of my mind. It’s all I can see. How many ways times do I have to see someone I love die?

  Gunshot. Knife through the heart. Strangled to death. Blood seeping out of her skull.

  I don’t just lose the love of my life in these outcomes; I lose our innocent baby in the process. She can’t ask me not protect her! I pound my fists against my eyes, trying to rub away the images, but it only makes it worse.

  Tortured. Choking. Body parts scattered around her lifeless body.

  Suddenly, I can’t breathe anymore. A cry falls past my lips and I’m on the verge of tears thinking of all the gruesome ways he would harm her if given the opportunity. My hand moves to my chest and I rub it, hoping it will take the ache away. Slit throat. Beaten to death. Multiple stab wounds.

  A knock on the window makes me jump, and I look up to see my dad, a worried look etched on his face. His eyes crinkle and his forehead creases. I open the door and he nods his head toward the barn. “Come help me muck the stalls.”

  So, I follow. Because he’s my dad, and I know that look on his face. It’s the one where you would do anything to make sure the person you love stops hurting.

  “What happened?” he asks after twenty minutes of just the sounds of us scraping horse shit into a wheelbarrow.

  I hang my head and focus on my work. “She found the gun.”

  I told Dad everything after Josie started receiving texts from Michael. I told him that I got my permit and was practicing so Josie would never have to go through what she did seven years ago again. I told him I would do anything to protect her, even if it meant betraying her trust.

  Dad moves into my line of vision placing his hand on my shovel to stop me from moving. “You knew this would be a big deal if she found out. How did you two handle it?”

  I give him a humorless laugh. “So good, Dad. So fucking good.” I stab my shovel at the ground. “She sure had a whole fucking lot to say about me betraying her and her stupid fucking rules.”

  Dad whistles. “Well, you kind of did, son.”

  “I don’t give a fuck, Dad! She doesn’t even try to see where I’m coming from. She assumes that because I’m so fucking in love with her, I’ll do anything she says.”

  Dad gives me a stern look. “Watch your tone, Seth.” I dip my head in an apology. “I’m on your side. There are some things you have to do. You need to protect your family. That’s the most important thing as a husband. As a father.”

  “He’s not going to let her live, Dad,” I say, choking on my words and finally leaning the shovel against the stall. “He’s going to torture her and kill her. If he has a gun, I need to be quicker. If he’s got a knife, I need to be in the perfect position to kill him. It’s not enough to beat him up this time.” My hand rubs my jaw and I look up at the ceiling. “I’m terrified, Dad. I close my eyes and all I see is her dead. I can’t live without her. I can’t lose her.”

  Dad grabs me and wraps me in a strong embrace. “I know, son. I know. You do what you have to do. Josie will understand.”

  I nod my head against his shoulder, though I’m not positive she will understand. I’m not even sure there’s much solid ground to stand on when I get back home. For all I know, she’ll be ready to push me away again. Slip right back into her old coping habits and say she doesn’t need me anymore.

  Which is as chilling a thought as Michael finding her.

  “I love you,” Dad says pulling away and patting my back. His other hand rubs his chest before grabbing hay to sprinkle on the floor of the stall.

  “You too, old man.”

  As soon as I get home, I’ll take her in my arms and show her just how much I love her—worship her until she understands that I’d rather die than lose her. That being able to protect her is more important to me than the guilt I’d feel later down the road for taking her rapist’s life. For fuck’s sake, she has to know I’d do anything for her.

  I couldn’t save her the first time it happened, but I’ll be damned if he hurts her again.

  Chapter 18

  Josie

  Even though it’s midday on a Sunday, I know Blake well enough to know he’ll be in his office alone doing the paperwork he hates doing when the office is full of his employees.

  I lost a lot of the anger I had when I first left the house, and now I feel silly being here. The last time I busted through those doors, I accused him of still being in love with me. This time, I want to give him this stupid tin back and walk away for good.

  I let myself into his building and hear classic rock playing in the back
. It’s been so long since I’ve been here—since I brought lunch the day before I found out about who his dad was. A time when we were really happy together.

  The door is open and I catch a glimpse of him before he notices me in the doorway. He leans over his desk, rubbing the two three-day stubble along his jaw, looking over papers I know he hates filling out. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned at the top and his tie is loose around his neck, as if he tried his hardest to keep it professional but couldn’t be bothered once he started.

  Old memories rush in, and my cheeks heat up just as he lifts his head to look at me. Shock registers on his face, dark-brown eyes squinting as if he isn’t sure he’s actually seeing me.

  “Josie?” he asks, standing up and turning down the volume on his speaker. “Is everything okay?” He looks behind me like he’ll find trouble following my trail.

  I clear my throat and look around the office instead of at him. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” My eyes collide with his and the inquisitiveness in his eyes makes me shiver. “Actually, no. No, everything’s not fine. My life is a fucking disaster right now, and I’m blaming you for contributing to it.”

  His eyebrows raise as if he wasn’t expecting that, and he dips his head to try and hide a growing smile. “Why’s that, Jo?” He walks to the front of his desk and leans against it, crossing his thick arms across his broad chest. “Because I’ve been trying so damn hard to let you go. So please explain how I am the cause of all your life problems.”

  A huff of air escapes my lungs and I give an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t have a list, Blake. You just are. You tell me your dad is out of prison and walk away like it wouldn’t scare the shit out of me to know he’s out there looking for me. You give him access to information about me, and don’t even try to explain what he might know.” I walk in front of him and cross my arms to mirror his closed-off vibe. “You tell me you love me every fucking time I see you and you are not trying to let me go. If you were, you wouldn’t torture me with this stupid. Fucking. Goddamn. Box.” I pull it out of the pocket of my dress and shove it against his chest.

  He moves his hand to cover mine, soft and strong and reassuring, before he pulls the tin from my grasp. He places it on his desk and reaches his hand out to cup my face. I resist the urge to lean into it. To find comfort because I’m breaking inside.

  “Jo, I won’t pretend like it’s easy to stop loving you. You might have been able to move on, but I suffer every day knowing I screwed up the best thing I ever had. For what? Because of a lie you were able to forgive me for eventually? For not being able to understand your need to get an abortion? I look at you and I hurt all over again.” He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear and drops his hand.

  “I haven’t told my dad anything about you. His wife, my step-mom, has collected enough information for him on her own. I’m not sure how she found out that we used to date, but she did, and whatever she knows, my dad knows too. Unfortunately, I think it’s safe to assume he knows a lot. He’s a man with a lot of money and resources. He wasn’t careful that night he hurt you, but he’ll be careful this time.”

  My hand moves to my throat and tears sting my eyes. This really is as bad as Seth said it was. He’s been right to fear the worst. Why didn’t I believe him? Shame fills me and I take a step back from Blake.

  “And as for the box, Jo,” Blake starts, picking the tin up and looking at it. “All you had to do was open it, and it wouldn’t have tortured you so much. Your curiosity is not your best friend. I can’t believe you held off this long.”

  A popping sound makes me look up and I watch him open the box in front of me. And curse him, he’s right. My curiosity is too much. I stand on my tiptoes to see what’s inside.

  “A key?” For some reason, it’s anticlimactic. “Like a key to your heart? For real, Blake?” A rush of air leaves me in the form of a laugh and I relax.

  He grins and shakes his head, showing me the inside of the tin. On a piece of paper is an address. My eyebrows crease as I try to piece the key and the address together. I don’t recognize the address, but I know the street is nearby. “I don’t get it,” I say, looking up and into Blake’s chocolate brown eyes.

  “Well, I’d rather not embarrass myself further and explain it to you. If you think hard enough, you’ll know. You only allow yourself insight into things you can handle.” He pockets the key and address and throws the tin in the garbage. He looks back at me and gives me a heart-stopping grin. “I’m glad you stopped by. Do you want to go get an early dinner? Would Seth be cool with that?”

  I open my mouth to try and answer, but nothing comes out. I try again and again, and I can’t seem to answer him. For the first time in what feels like forever, Blake feels like a friend I could really use instead of a nuisance I’m dying to get rid of.

  I debate between the need to go home and apologize to Seth and taking Blake up on his offer. A night away from hiding in the house could be exactly what I need. With Blake, at least there’s a limited chance Michael will come after me.

  I inhale deeply, sending him a regretful smile. “I need to go home, Blake. Seth and I …. Things didn’t end well earlier, and I think it’s time for me to own up to being wrong.”

  Blake nods his head, and moves back behind his desk. “Let me clean up this mess and lock up, and I’ll walk you to your car.” He doesn’t pry, and I’m grateful.

  I nod and walk out to the front of the office to wait for him. I need fresh air—overwhelmed with conflicting gratitude toward Blake, and thoughts of Seth. I haven’t been the understanding partner that he’s needed, and regret sears me. He’s done nothing but be there for me and I have the nerve to be ungrateful?

  The deep breath I take once I’m out the front doors is abruptly cut off when a gloved hand covers my mouth. I’m grabbed by a shadow to my left—a strong and imposing shadow.

  My instincts tell me to thrash and scream but my training taught me to save my energy and wait for the right moment to attack back. My attacker is strong, which allows me no room to break free.

  My heart stops.

  I can’t breathe … I try to take in air, but I’m suffocating under this hand. They pinch my nose and I scream. I scream so hard, my throat aches, but it doesn’t matter. It’s muffled enough that no one will hear.

  I’m dragged to the back of Blake’s building and shoved against the wall.

  That’s when I see his face. I see the face of the man who has haunted my nightmares for the past seven years. I feel his almost-black eyes burning into me and the acidic touch of his skin as he leans in to smell me.

  I see my rapist and worst nightmare, scarier than the first time he had me trapped and useless in that dark alley.

  I’m not prepared for the shock of it. For the adrenaline and fear clashing with my senses. I forget everything I’ve learned in self-defense and become the perfect victim for Michael Kasey to take advantage of. To everyone on the outside, Michael would look the epitome of poised and refined. But I see the monster lurking beneath the surface—in the sadistic smirk he gives me, in the way his body subtly crushes mine against the concrete building, in the way his eyes leer at my figure.

  I open my mouth to yell for Blake, but he tuts and taps my lips with one of his black- gloved fingers. “Now, I would think very hard before you start drawing attention, little Josie.” He moves his hand to my throat, a feather-light touch that, despite the lack of pain, makes me cry out in fear.

  I’m giving him exactly what he wants. I’m showing him how much he scares me, and I can’t seem to gather the strength I need to overcome it. Because I’m fucking terrified.

  His mouth moves to my ear and his nose traces a strand of my hair. “I know everything about you, Josie. I’ve had seven years in prison to think of the many different ways I can torture you.” His voice is gravel in my ears.

  He pulls back and watches my streaming tears with a cocked head and a small smirk. His tongue darts out and laps up the tears resting on my cheeks. I try to tu
rn away from the creepy touch, but his hand grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him. Forces me to watch him devour the taste of my tears.

  “I can taste your fear, little Josie.” He laughs softly and leans in closer, voice low. “And you should definitely be scared. Because I’m not killing you today. I’m not even going to take advantage of the slutty clothes you’re wearing.”

  His hips push me harder into the wall and I’m frozen in a million layers of fear. Unable to move or make a sound. My chest rises and falls a million times, wanting to scream, wanting to breathe, but doing neither. “Do you know what I am going to do, though?” He reaches behind me and grabs a chunk of my hair, pulling until my scalp is stinging and I’m forced to look up at him.

  “I’m going to sit on the sidelines and watch you suffer every one of those seven years I had to spend in prison. I’m going to watch you cry over the death of every person you love. And if you think I’ll be fair in who to kill, you’re dead wrong. No one’s safe. Not my children. Not your best friend. Not your father.” He leans in and gives me a chilling smile. A frozen shiver races up my spine. “And most certainly not that handsome man you’re marrying next week.”

  He pauses and flashes me vicious smirk. His body keeps me pinned so hard that I can’t catch a full breath of air, and his hand makes a deceitful caress against my cheek. “Seth, isn’t it? Seth Montgomery.”

  Seth. No. Not him. My heart feels like it’s about to rip out of my chest. I’ve never experienced fear like this. It’s one thing to threaten me, but it’s another to threaten Seth and the people I love. I cry hysterically. I can’t let him hurt them!

  “Tell me, Josie, how will you feel when you wake up on your wedding day, only to find your beloved’s throat sliced and drowning in his own blood? All because you didn’t die that day seven years ago,” he says, practically singing the words. His laugh is downright maniacal.