From Lies to Promises Read online

  Her face was impassive, showing no emotional reaction at all, “I will not deny that statement, but...”

  I interrupted her again, “There is no ‘but’ to that. You should get out of town now, you are not getting my life to write down for everyone to read.” I turn and stride away, but she catches up and stands in from of me.

  “Like I said, I won’t deny that I want to do your story. It is a story of great strength, one that shows the world that a woman can handle anything thrown at her and still rise above.” Ms. Bran states while clenching her fist in front of her to punctuate her words.

  “Ha. That’s real funny seeing as I didn’t handle it, I ran away. And I won’t be able to handle it if you make me re-live it all over again for your story. This time it might be successful in tearing me apart.” My voice shakes as the last words come out, because it’s true.

  “Who cares if you ran away? I mean I would have too if I lived in that poe-dunk town. The point is that you are living and going on with your life. You don’t let it run you or your decisions.” She says.

  I look at her slacked kind of jawed before rage bubbles to the surface, “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? It does run my life. Sometimes I make decisions, only later to realize that subconsciously done it based on my past.” I plead to her to just drop it.

  “You really don’t see it do you?” She shakes her head.

  “See what, Ms. Bran?”

  “How strong you really are.” She takes a step towards me and places her hand atop of mine on my bag handle, “I have talked to countless women in my career. Amazing women. But never have I talked to or met one that has been through things like you have and carries on as well as you do. They all end up on medication and see physiatrist. And please stop calling me Ms. Bran. That makes this too impersonal, it’s Victoria.”

  “I’ve done both. Funny thing I found out though, is that they didn’t help me. What helped me the most, was the thought that one day I would get my chance to turn my back on them like they did me. If there is a Heaven, ruled by an All Mighty God, I pray for once he actually punishes someone that deserves it. That they will die on their death beds, alone. Then be tortured in Hell for eternity.” I bring my eyes down to hers from the sky. “That’s what has kept me going, until now, Victoria. The hope that some fairy tales really do come true. That the wicked get punished, and I get to live happily ever after.” I look back up at the sky, as if sending up a prayer.

  “Katrina, tell me your side of what happened. Let me write this story. As I said before and meant it, the names will stay confidential. I will never breathe a word of anything but the truth.” She begs.

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Look, just think about it this week.” She hands me the manila folder again, but this time I take it and place it into my bag. “My card is in the folder, just in case.”

  ***

  The rest of my day is nothing short of a disaster. Maybe, it was simply because I am irritable. Or a combination of everything. In U.S History the professor is at the highlight of his lecture when my pencil decides to quit writing all together. I end up having to borrow a pen from the weird girl next to me with fire engine red hair that she keeps pulled tight in a bun and who whispers to herself all the time. When I finally start jotting notes down again, I have missed so much that I am playing catch up. Between that and having to scribble out things that I write because I am using a pen, I am getting more pissed by the minute. Finally, I take down only the main points the professor is throwing out, and give up.

  In my Lit class the teacher announces that we are dedicating the month of October to Edgar Allan Poe. She starts off by reading The Tell-Tale Heart. It’s odd considering anyone else would have used his most famous work, The Raven. But this is my favorite piece of Poe’s. I listen to her spill the words from the man that was driven mad by his over heightened senses, of the old man he loves but hates his sickening eye that is always aware, and watching. I find tranquility listening to the story I know by heart. The unknown narrator kills the old man, but guilt eats at him till eventually he comes clean of his crime. If only guilt ate at all evil bastards till they confess their sins.

  On the walk back to my car after I finish with my last class, the strap to my bag snaps and my books go tumbling to the ground. Fuck. I pick it all up and throw it to my passenger seat and head home. The music I have coming from my phone isn’t enough to calm my nerves from the day. It is just after six when I pull into the driveway. I grab my bag and carry it inside and slam the door.

  “Woah, who has your panties in a twist?” Skeigh asks coming from the kitchen with a glass of wine in her hand.

  I take her wine from her and head for my room. “No one has hold of my damn panties, damnit!”

  “Someone needs to get laid!” She says walking back into the kitchen. I stop before I make it to the hallway. I throw my bag on the couch and turn to her.

  “Sex is not a cure all, Skeigh!” I yell at her retreating back.

  Skeigh turns around, “No, but it helps.”

  “Ahhh!” I run my hands through my hair screaming. “Whatever I’m getting in the shower.” I down the wine and walk towards the hall. I slam the bathroom door for good measure. It helps me release a little steam, but not enough. I bend over the sink and beat my palms on the counter until they are numb. There is a knock on the door before it opens and Lexi is standing there with Skeigh behind her. Worry marring their faces.

  “Kat, what happened? Are you ok?” Lexi questions placing her hand on my shoulder.

  I knock it off and walk past them into the living room. I grab what started my mood this morning and hand it to her. “This is what happened. Ms. Bran came up to me this morning and gave me this.” Lexi takes the folder apprehensively.

  “What is it? And why did she give it to you?” Skeigh quizzes as they sit on the couch next to each other and open it up.

  “My past coming back to haunt me is what it is! I wanted to forget it, and that bitch won’t leave well enough alone.” I say as I pace behind the couch. “Y’all wanted to know, well there it all is in a nutshell.” I go into the kitchen and pull out a bottle of Patron from the freezer. I am going to need it. With shot glass and bottle in hand I sit in the chair opposite them and start pouring. It burns as it goes down, but I welcome it knowing I will be too numb to care soon.

  I have down about seven shots between pacing the living room while they read. I am sure I have worn a hole in the carpet with my steps. When I sit to pour another shot Skeigh speaks up. “We need two more shot glasses.” She stands without looking at me. When she returns she pours them and hands Lexi and me one each. When we finish them they both look at me. I am not sure what I expect to see in their eyes, anger, shock; maybe disbelief? I don’t receive any of those, instead tears spill down their faces.

  “God, I knew you had been through something terrible.” Lexi sniffles before continuing, “They didn’t believe you. Not one person?” I shake my head as my own tears, that are now betraying me, break out.

  Skeigh has her arms wrapped around my neck before I even see her move. “You will never have to go another day having to deal with anything like this alone, ever again.”

  After a good sob fest, we put everything back into the folder and sit around watching TV. They don’t ask any questions, but since they read the statements in the folder I guess they know everything they need to. Or perhaps they know I don’t have it in me to talk about it.

  I wake up the next morning on the couch between my two best friends. Three years ago I didn’t have any knowledge of what a real friend was made of, but after last night I don’t have to guess anymore because I know.

  The rest of the week seems as if it drags by. I find myself thinking about Ms. Bran and her offer to keep the names out of the story. Half of me really wants to tell her about my past, just to tell someone and get all the thoughts and feelings off my chest. The other half realizes that I would have to re-live it again and I could fall apart.
So I have been in constant pro and con mode for the last couple of weeks. I’ve have spent my days texting Ryder, and my nights on the phone with him. We talk about anything and everything. Three weeks, is all that it took for me to start developing some pretty strong feelings towards him.

  The only day during the week I didn’t hear a word from Ryder was Monday. While I was having my slow meltdown, Ryder was having a bad time of his own. Bethany was admitted into the hospital for surgery. Turns out while Ryder had been away setting up their restoration shop, Ol’ Beth was diagnosed with breast cancer. She told him the day we were there on our date, which explains his morbid expression when talking to her. When the doctors came out after the surgery, they delivered more bad news to them. The cancer had spread, and wasn’t able to get it all. Bethany would have to continue radiation and chemo therapy for longer than originally planned.

  Ryder seems to be handling everything ok, but I am worried he is trying to be strong for everyone else. We make plans for a ‘stay in’ date for Friday night. I make the girls find something else to do, because I plan on cooking him dinner here and then watching a movie afterwards.

  “This sucks, I never get the entire house to myself.” Skeigh complains.

  Lexi snorts out a laugh, “I’m sure we can trust Kat not to have sex on every surface in the house. You we, on the other hand…”

  “Why should I be punished for having such an awesome sex life?” She retorts.

  “You’re not being punished. Next time you want to have a date come over so you can cook supper for him, let us know and we will leave.” I say as I throw on my shirt.

  “Let us know about a week in advance so that we can be thinking of what to cook for you as well.” Lexi jumps back in.

  Skeigh scoffs like she’s really offended, “I can cook. I just prefer to leave it to y’all.”

  They leave some time later and I head to my room to finish getting ready. I chose to wear a pair of black jean shorts and a white tank top. Comfortable with a hint of sexy. I see the folder sticking out of my bag and place it in one of my dresser drawers, not to be seen.

  Chapter 11

  I am almost done cooking when he knocks on the door. I wipe my hands off on my apron and open the door. No sooner than the door is open Ryder sweeps in for a kiss. Until his lips land on mine I don’t even realize how much I miss being with him. Talking on the phone is nice, but not nearly enough.

  “Damn Kat, whatever you are making in there smells fucking amazing.” He says still holding me to him by my lower back.

  I pull his hands away and run back into the kitchen before something burns. If I ever burn something it ruins my cooking for the night and I end up making a bowl of cereal. “It’s fried chicken and I promise it taste better than it smells.” I take the chicken breast out of the pan and stir the green beans when I him press against my back.

  “I really didn’t think you could be any more stunning.” He whispers next to my ear and takes my ear lobe into his mouth just long enough to make my insides clench. “You, that apron, and the flour you have on your chin is downright seductive.” Ryder’s hand sneaks up my side, brushing against my breast, and grabs my chin. He pulls my head back on his shoulder, then licks from my ear to the corner of my mouth. “And delicious.”

  I would’ve come undone right then if it wasn’t for the timer on the oven going off, signaling that the mac and cheese was ready. I raise my head off Ryder and take a few calming breaths. As I open the oven, I look over my shoulder at Ryder, “It’s just an apron.”

  “Not on you it’s not.” He leans back against the counter and after I set the mac and cheese down I take a minute to look over him. His body is like a work of art. He isn’t too built, more like a runners figure, but every single muscle is defined. When he moves his arms behind him to the sides of the counter and jumps to sit down, all the muscles in his arms strain against flannel shirt.

  “Do you want something to drink? We have tea, coke, wine, and beer.” I ask, my gaze still locked on his arms.

  “A beer sounds good.” He gets off the counter and walks by me to the fridge. “I’ll get it, you’re cooking.”

  He twist the cap off and takes a long drink from the bottle and I watch as he pulls it slowly from his lips. I am halfway in thought of what all I want him to do with those lips when he ask if there is anything he can do.

  “Sure, you can start taking the dishes to the table. If you don’t mind.” I reply.

  “If I minded I wouldn’t asked if I could help.”

  With the table set and the food done, we sit down to enjoy our dinner. I look at the table and realize Ryder took the candle sticks off the book shelf and placed them in the center of the dining table. It’s romantic, in the old fashioned corny kind of way. Ryder moans as he takes his first bite of chicken and the heat in my belly from earlier has come back full force. Throughout dinner I am distracted by the noises he makes, which makes my hunger go wild. And we aren’t talking about hunger for food. Up until Ryder, I have never felt an attraction so intense, raw. It’s not just about the lust, it is so much more.

  If this relationship holds strong I will eventually have to tell him more about me. Will he be here after I tell him? Will he be as supportive as Lexi and Skeigh? Could he even look at me with that same fire in his eyes? Finally, I give up on eating anymore and start taking the dishes into the kitchen. I start rinsing off the dishes when Ryder walks in.

  “You alright?” He places his beer and plate on the counter next to the sink. “You hardly ate a thing, and I have seen you eat.”

  “I’m fine. I guess I didn’t have much of an appetite tonight.” I pick up his plate to wash it off when he grabs my wrist.

  “You sure?” I look up into his sweet, concerned eyes before replying.

  “Absolutely.” I plaster on a smile that feels fake even to me. He lets go of my wrist and I finish rinsing the dishes. “You want to watch a movie?”

  We end up watching re-runs of The Big Bang Theory. It’s perfect, a nerdy comedy that you can’t help but love. I sit in the corner of the couch and Ryder sits just inches away. I was hoping that watching something on TV would be a distraction, but with him this close it is a no go. Goosebumps line my arm and I let out a little shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Ryder ask.

  “Just a little.” I say. Knowing good and well the shiver wasn’t from the cold. Ryder reaches behind us on the couch and pulls the afghan that was draped there down. He unfolds it and spreads it over us both and scoots closer, his arm thrown over my shoulder pulls me into him.

  “Thank you. All better now.” I tell him with a smile. A faint smile appears on his face as he looks down at me.

  “That’s my goal, Kat. To always make you feel better.” His other hand snakes up to my chin and tilts my face to him. “In any way that I can.” Then his lips are on mine. Hard and sweet at the same time. It feels like he is letting me know that he can feel this just as much as I do, and I let him. I can’t get enough of his kisses, they are like a healing balm over my entire life. His tongue moves over mine with determination as his hand move from my chin, down the side of my breast where it stops and he pulls his mouth from mine.

  I whimper and go to pull his lips back to mine but he stops me and ask, “What is that?” as his fingers point to where I keep my knife. Shit.

  “Um, well, it’s a knife.” I say wondering what he is thinking. His travels under my shirt ever so slowly reaches my bra strap and pulls it out.

  “You keep a knife in your bra?” He flips it open looking at it curiously then closes it back and sets it on the table.

  “Yeah. A girl has to be prepared.” I laugh out awkwardly and shrug one shoulder.

  He turns back to me and next thing I know I am on my back as he hovers over me, holding himself up on one elbow and his other hand on my hip. “That is hot as hell.” He punctuates each word with a swipe of his lips across mine before taking them fully. The hand that was on my hip is now below my knee bendin
g it around his back. He slowly brings it down my thigh back to my hip. As he settles in between my legs, I feel his arousal against me. My hands are all over him. The muscles in his stomach jerk when my hands make their way there.

  Ryder grabs my wrist and pins them above my head. “I am going to risk sounding like a girl, but we need to slow down.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” I question and raise my eyebrow up at him.

  He lets out a small laugh, “God, darlin’ you are going to be the death of me.” He inhales shakily and sits up on the couch. “As bad as I would love to continue, I can’t. You deserve special, and right here on your couch when your roommates can come home at any minute is not special.”

  “Fine.” I follow suit and sit up, but tuck my feet under me. We knocked the cover off in the floor so I bend forward to pick it up.

  Ryder stops me by yanking at the blanket and laughing, “Are you pouting?”

  “Depends, will it work?” I say with a smile.

  “Pouting never gets you your way, Katrina.”

  “Oh, that coming from the guy who pouted to get me to go on a date with him.” I accuse. “It sure worked for you.”

  “It was life or death. Fine, I’ll grant you one pass…” I go to say something but he stops me and continues, “But it can’t be tonight.” What the fuck. Is he serious?

  “Isn’t there like this rule that says sex on the third date is ok?” I huff.

  “Maybe there is, maybe not. Either way it’s not relevant, because we are only on our second date.” Ryder holds firm.

  “Um, we went on three dates.” I confirm.

  He shakes his head and says, “I’m not counting our trip to Sir Goony’s. It was great, but like I told you before I prefer just you and me.”

  “Then our next date, our third date, better be very special.” I tell him.

  Ryder starts laughing and I laugh with him. He takes me in his arms and I lay my head on his shoulder and breath in that scent that is only Ryder. We decide to turn the TV off and play Rummy. We are halfway into the game (I am sure he is cheating), when the girls come home with company. They ended up at TJ’s and ran into the guys, minus Jake. Not that I am complaining.