The Promise (Wolfe Creek Duet #2)

35

THEA

A soft ambient music drifts toward me as I open the door to Sutton’s bookstore. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve been in, although I talk to Deirdre every morning when she opens and at the end of the day to make sure everything’s good.

I should hand the reins back to Sutton, but calling has become a habit and I’m worried about him. I don’t think adding more to his plate is the right thing to do.

“Hi Thea, how are you?” Deirdre’s bright voice cuts through the music. She’s tall with glowing, sun-kissed skin and strawberry blonde hair. I assumed her tan skin would’ve paled like mine as fall set in, but it hasn’t. I’m not sure if it’s her natural color or if it’s artificial. Either way, it makes me miss my bronze hue that’s faded away.

I smile warmly. “Hey. I’m good. How about you?”

We make some small talk and she gives me the usual end of the day details. It’s not closing time just yet, but it’s getting close.

“Why don’t you go home early? Don’t worry about clocking out. I’ll make sure you get paid for the full day.” She grins widely. “Where’s Sutton?”

Her smile falls, making a pit form in my stomach.

“He’s upstairs,” she whispers, as if he can hear us. “I think he’s been drinking.”

I nod. “Thank you. Have a good evening. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I walk Deirdre to the door and lock up. Chances are no one’s going to come around in the next thirty minutes, and even if someone does, I don’t care. Sutton’s more important than any customer.

I climb the two flights of stairs to the reading room. Sutton’s laid out on the couch and a near empty bottle with some brown liquid is on the table. This is bad. I saw the signs that he wasn’t doing well, but I’ve been too wrapped up in my own shit to focus on him. Even worse, I feel like I’ve benefited from his spiraling.

That day in the kitchen, I encouraged his drinking because I needed a distraction. It’s not only that. With him focused on his family issues, I’ve been able to escape his scrutiny. Guilt rams me hard as I acknowledge that selfish realization.

I push that feeling aside. He needs me. It’s the least I can do when he was there for me all summer when my life was falling apart. There has to be something I can do.

Walking over to him, I get down on my knees and brush my fingers over his cheek. “Sutton,” I whisper.

He stirs easily. That’s a good sign. I watch his eyes slowly open behind his glasses. His arms stretch over his head as he groans, “Thea?”

“Hey,” I answer low and soft. Leaning in, I give him a gentle kiss. The liquor on his breath is unmistakable. “Talk to me, please. This isn’t you.” I glance back at the bottle on the table.

Sutton pushes himself up to sit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. From his movement alone, I can tell he probably isn’t as drunk as I thought he was. His eyes aren’t glassy and he’s coordinated. Holding my breath, I wait to see if he slurs his speech.

Running a hand over his head, he meets my gaze and his eyes tell me so much more than he might ever be able to say. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been myself,” he admits clearly. “This has been difficult. No matter how many ways I try to rationalize what my parents did, I can’t accept it. I can’t find any way to forgive them. I can’t find any justification.”

Taking his hand in mine, I try to find the words to sympathize with him, but I don’t know that anything will help. “What they did was… horrible. It was absolutely horrible, Sutton. You didn’t deserve that. I know they thought they were doing something good, but they were wrong.”

“I don’t want to lose my family. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to be okay with what they’ve done, so that I don’t have to lose them.”

I wish I could offer something better to him. I don’t know how he feels. He thought he had the perfect life—that’s not something I’ve ever experienced. I was never under any illusion that my parents and my childhood were good or healthy.

There’s only one thing I can think to tell him. And it’s only because of Wes. He told me months ago that even during the hardest times, they’re there for each other. They will be his support system. “I know you don’t want to lose them and maybe it feels like you’re losing everything. But you’re not and I don’t mean that in a way to erase how you’re feeling. You still have your brothers.” I pause, running my thumb over the ring all of them wear. “And you have me. We’re still your family. You aren’t losing us.”

A tear falls down his cheek. I’m not sure if my words have made this better or worse. I push myself between his legs and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head in his lap. “I love you.”

“I love you, baby,” he replies, stroking my hair. “Thank you.”

Pulling away, I look up at him. “You are so amazing. You know that, right?” I wait for him to answer, but he averts his gaze. “Hey.” I cup his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You’re incredible. You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known. You have the most beautiful heart and soul. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else did, it doesn’t change any of those things. That is still you. And no matter what, Sutton, you have me. Even if you think you have nothing else in this world, I’m yours and you’re mine. That will never change.”

He gives me an unexpected smile. “Always, baby. We’re destined for each other, in this lifetime and any other.” My heart swells at his words. I’ve never known a man like him and I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I’m unbelievably grateful.

Sutton leans down and kisses me deeply. I hope I’ve helped him in some way, even a little, but I want to leave him with one more thing. “Can you do something for me?” I don’t usually ask him for much, so I hope he’ll agree. Tilting his head, he looks at me expectantly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “I know that this will be painful for a long time. I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings, but I think it might help if you can channel your emotions into something. Maybe find an outlet… a healthy one.”

His brows furrow as he takes in my words. Then his face softens. “I can try to do that. For you.” A ding from his phone draws his attention. “Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, I have to go. I was supposed to meet Adrian.” I get a quick kiss and watch him head to the stairs, cane in hand.

When I hear the bell at the door ding, I let out a shaky breath. I really hope he finds a way to work through his feelings. And immediately after that thought comes another. I’m such a fucking hypocrite.

SUTTON

Glancing at my phone, I see the two texts from Adrian asking if I’m on my way. He’s going to kill me. I’m supposed to be helping him interview people for the shop. Not exactly what I want to be doing tonight, but all of my brothers are pitching in, so it’s the least I can do.

I eye the temporary car I’ve been using that’s parked in front of the bookstore. It’s a dark blue sporty Maserati. I don’t know much about it—Wes is the car guy. I’m happy to have something to get around in, but all I really want is a bike, so I forgo taking it to the tattoo shop. I’d rather walk.

I try hurrying down the sidewalk as quickly as I can. My leg starts aching the closer I get to my destination and I almost regret not driving.

Thea’s request bounces around in my head, distracting me from the pain. I told her I’d try to channel my emotions. I don’t know how I plan to do that, but for her I will. Reading is my go-to, but I haven’t been able to pick up a book in weeks. There’s no joy in it right now. Drinking, well, I guess it doesn’t bring me joy, however; it does make me forget about my misery. Temporarily.

My motorcycle is the only thing that’s ever fully helped me work through any pain I’ve felt. That’s not an option at the moment.

I’m not sure if riding would even help me this time around. And I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse. Thanksgiving is coming up. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle it. We always go to my parent’s house, but that’s off the table this year.

Damian insisted on still celebrating. I disagreed, telling him we could call it an early night. He wouldn’t budge. Adrian hasn’t had a proper Thanksgiving in ten years or more and he deserves it. That was his reasoning. It was hard to argue against.

I’m not sure what my brother has in mind—none of us can cook very well. The only one of us who could is dead or on the run. It’s going to be a shit show. I’m sure of it.

The front of the shop comes into view and I’m relieved to get to sit down soon. That relief is quickly chased away when I see messy spray painted writing across the windows. Murderer. My heart sinks.

Hurrying inside, I see Adrian with his head in his hands.

“Hey,” I broach carefully. “You good?” I don’t need to say more. I know he saw the vandalism, I just don’t know how he’s feeling now. It’s hard to tell. I’m relearning him since he’s been gone so long.

Adrian looks up at me, the dark hair hanging over his forehead casting harsh shadows over his face. “If the people around here didn’t know who I was before, now they sure as shit do.” He shakes his head and stands. “Who the hell is going to want to work here? Who wants to work for a murderer?” The word comes out biting, but I hear the anguish behind it.

I want to console him, however; we don’t have time for that. The first interview is going to start soon and we need to cover this up. Looking around the shop, I spot some painter’s tape and a drop cloth. “C’mon, help me.”

We get the inside and outside covered just as the first person shows up. Adrian throws me a look of gratitude.

Three hours and five applicants later, we’re locking up the shop. We each take a seat in the fold out chairs we’ve been using for the interviews. “It’s been tough, hasn’t it? Adjusting to everything?” I clarify.

Adrian gives me a blank stare. “Everything’s been fine.” Fine never means fine. “Everything aside from Cole not being here with us.”

My throat bobs. I know this is hard for him. He wasn’t here when everything went down. He didn’t fall in love with Thea and feel that urge to protect her, even from one of our own. Still, he’s going to have to accept that Cole can’t come back from this. “You miss him. We all know that. You were expecting to come home and see him. But he’s dangerous to all of us—that’s if he’s still alive.” I see a flare of anger in his eyes.

“All of you believed whatever Thea told you happened in that cabin. No one knows if she’s even telling the truth,” Adrian spats hatefully. “She’s probably fucking lying.”

An unexpected surge of anger makes me stand abruptly. I tower over my brother, pointing my finger in his face. “She’s not a liar and you better watch your words. Cole tried to kill me.” I motion to my leg. “How much proof do you need to see that he’s lost his mind? Is getting him back worth sacrificing the rest of us? Yourself?” I scoff. “You think he wouldn’t do the same to you, but he would. He’d kill you too.”

Adrian looks away, his jaw clenched tight. I sit back down, thinking that he’s given up the argument.

“We’re all dangerous. We’ve all hurt people.”

Narrowing my eyes, I counter his words. “This is different. We’ve hurt people to protect the ones we love. Cole only cared about himself.”

I don’t know how to get through to my brother. As much as I sympathize with him, he’s going to have to accept that there’s no redemption for Cole. He’s fighting a losing battle.

THEA

It’s been three days since I broke into Cole’s apartment. Every night since I’ve slept in my room, needing to know if he’d visit. When he didn’t show the first two nights, I was hopeful that he’d gotten sick from the drugs.

But he’s here now. Lying behind me, running his fingers over my arm. Now I’m the one feeling sick. I’d hoped for a longer reprieve from his visits. I wonder if he’s figured out that he was drugged or if he simply thinks he’d just fallen ill. Maybe he never drank anything from the fridge and he’s been fine all along. I anxiously wait for him to speak.

“Did you get to see the artwork I left at Adrian’s shop yesterday?” That’s not what I was expecting to come from his mouth. Murderer. Sutton told us about the graffiti that he and Adrian had to cover up last night before interviewing potential artists.

Damian was angry with himself for not getting the security cameras set up sooner, so we had no idea who did it. Well, now I know. It was cleaned up first thing this morning, but the damage was done.

I can’t stand Adrian. Still, rage flares at Cole’s confession. He’s a fucking monster and I hate him.

“Did you also invite my parents to Cassie’s wedding?” The words are out before I can stop them, but don’t regret asking. I’m nosy and need to know if my suspicions are right. I hone in on his body, trying to sense any tension or nervousness. Cole gives me nothing.

He’s silent only for a moment before laughing low. “That was some of my finer work. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I keep my breathing and pulse steady. I don’t want him to think he’s getting a rise out of me. The need to bite back is too great for me to repress, but I do it slyly still. “Where have you been the last few days? I’ve been sleeping in here, expecting you to come,” I ask innocently.

This time, Cole gives me something. I feel him still. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, love.” It’s not the confirmation I wanted, but his body language tells me plenty. Then, he surprises me. “I came down with something, if you must know.” My pride swells.

I wonder if this is how Cole felt every time he did something to sabotage my life.

“Adrian said something to me that’s been on my mind,” I whisper into the darkness. Cole’s hand tracing circles over my hip slows. I pause for dramatic effect. “He said I like them psycho… said that must be why I fell in love with you. Why would he say that, Cole?”

I ask him this for a couple of reasons. One, I want him to know that his youngest brother thinks he’s psycho. If there’s any love left there, I’m going to destroy it. Two, I want to see if Cole will reveal more about his past. I found his medical records, although I didn’t have time to read through it and haven’t had a chance to go back to look into it more. He doesn’t know that, though.

He doesn’t answer the question. “Hmmm. My brothers are still keeping secrets from you. Good to know that nothing’s changed since I left.” His response might sound nonchalant, but I can tell I’ve gotten under his skin. No one likes to be reminded of their fucked up past, least of all someone who’s still making the same mistakes.

The feeling of satisfaction that my plan is working quickly fades when Cole slips his hand beneath my waistband. Dread fills me as his other arm snakes beneath my pillow and his hand roughly clamps down on my mouth. He hasn’t done this before and I don’t know why he’s doing it now.

Then, I understand. Cole abandons any gentleness he’s afforded me during prior visits. His fingers are relentless and brutal. By the time he’s satisfied, my cheeks are wet with tears and my body’s shaking violently. I feel another coal spark to life. How many more before everything burns down around me?

He leaves without a word. I crawl to the shower. Again.