Broken Promises

BROKEN PROMISES

A TRYSTAN SCOTT NOVEL

H. M. WARD

LAREE BAILEY PRESS

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

1.
Chapter 1

2.
Chapter 2

3.
Chapter 3

4.
Chapter 4

5.
Chapter 5

6.
Chapter 6

7.
Chapter 7

8.
Chapter 8

9.
Chapter 9

10.
Chapter 10

11.
Chapter 11

12.
Chapter 12

13.
Chapter 13

14.
Chapter 14

15.
Chapter 15

16.
Chapter 16

17.
Chapter 17

18.
Chapter 18

19.
Chapter 19

20.
Chapter 20

21.
Chapter 21

22.
Chapter 22

23.
Chapter 23

24.
Chapter 24

25.
Chapter 25

26.
Chapter 26

27.
Chapter 27

28.
Chapter 28

29.
Chapter 29

30.
Chapter 30

31.
Chapter 31

32.
Chapter 32

33.
Chapter 33

34.
Chapter 34

35.
Chapter 35

36.
Chapter 36

37.
Chapter 37

38.
Chapter 38

39.
Chapter 39

40.
Chapter 40

41.
Chapter 41

42.
Chapter 42

43.
Chapter 43

44.
Chapter 44

45.
Chapter 45

46.
Chapter 46

47.
Chapter 47

48.
Chapter 48

Epilogue

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by H.M. Ward

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

LAREE BAILEY PRESS

First Edition: December 2015

ISBN: 978-1-63035-084-0

In memory of Jim, who knew life is beautiful.

CHAPTER 1

MARI

K 
atie kicks me under the table, shooting me a WTF look when I meet her gaze. She picks up her wine glass, smiling at her little dinner party consisting of me, my boyfriend, his younger brother, and the new girl from next door. I think her name is Amy, but I’m not sure because she’s hardly spoken.

Katie lifts her glass. The red liquid sloshes within an inch of the rim. She grins and my stomach drops. I know that look. Crap. “To Mari and Derrick, the best boyfriend ever, with really awesome hair. May God bless you both with many years and lots of chubby babies for Auntie Katie to play with!”

They don’t know Katie the way I do and start to sip their drinks as she says those last few words. There are never enough napkins when Katie meets new people.

“Holy shit!” Jared chokes out the words and looks at his brother. “You got her knocked up?” Tact isn’t his thing.

Jared is tall and handsome like his brother, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a strong jaw. They both have lean bodies with hard muscles and broad shoulders. They’re confident, both aware they have the looks, but Jared is more boyish than Derrick. Jared tends to act the cocky male stereotype—as if to be anything else would let us women down. Unlike Derrick, Jared has no filters. It's a trait he shares with someone else I know.

Katie is grinning.

I swipe my foot under the table trying to find her leg and miss.

Derrick and I start stammering explanations at the same time, “No, oh no. We’re not. I mean.” Our hands cross in front of us as if warding off evil spirits and our faces wear I-can’t-believe-we’re-talking-about-this expressions.

“Jesus, man! You scared me for a second.” Jared leans back in his chair and relaxes. He’s got Peter Pan syndrome up to his ears. Ever the lost boy, he’ll never grow up or settle down.

Not that I’m ready to settle down either. I’m on the anti-marriage side of the fence at the moment. I like to keep my options open, so I’m not ready to stick a fork in the concept, but marriage holds little appeal for me. I’ve seen things, and, while I don’t want those perceptions to guide my life, I understand how they've affected it.

Derrick is usually sweet and doting, but when his brother is around, their competing levels of testosterone frustrate me.

Derrick waves his hand at his brother, dismissing the fat baby fantasy. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’ll be a wedding before a baby.” He laughs, intending his comment to end the conversation on a joke, but New Girl perks up at the word wedding.

Amy smiles at me. “Are you two engaged?”

It’s one of the few times she’s spoken tonight. She seems a little shy. Katie probably pried her out of her apartment with the Jaws of Life. After an evening with us, she’ll never answer the door again.

Jared leans forward and slaps the table. “What! Why am I the last to hear about everything?” His reaction makes Derrick laugh.

I shake my head and look down to hide my face. Why am I blushing? “No, we’re not. There’s no engagement. There's no baby.”

Katie idly swirls the wine in her glass. “And no sex. Got it.”

Leaning close to Katie, I whisper, “Remind me to kill you later.”

She holds up a second glass of wine and shoves it into my hands. Katie’s my age—closing in on thirty—with long, dark blonde hair streaked with pale gold and cleverly cut to frame her face. She’s about a head taller than me and speaks her mind without fail. “Will do. Seriously, though, you need to calm down. You know I’m kidding. And Jared, here, is going to have a heart attack soon.”

He lifts his glass of Jack and Coke, “Damn straight. A guy has to sow his wild seeds first. Am I right, Aims?” He leans in and bumps his elbow into Amy’s arm.

I make a face. First of all, I hate that expression. Secondly, Jared said it wrong—you sow wild oats. His use of the word seeds creates an unwanted mental image of Derrick spraying his stuff all over swooning co-eds in wet t-shirts. I shake the thought from my mind. I’ve spent too much time with Seth.

Amy slides down in her seat a little more, blushing fiercely. Her strawberry blonde hair and fair skin do nothing to hide that blush either. If she could discreetly jump out the window, she would.

“You don’t have to answer him,” I say, smiling kindly at Amy from across the little table. Everything in Katie’s apartment is small. It’s a rental on Long Island and costs a fortune, but she decided to stay put when Seth deployed. Her family is here, so I can’t blame her. Her compact living room bleeds into a galley kitchen and breakfast nook. Five people can barely cram into the small space. A light fixture hangs overhead. Katie beefed it up with crystals and pale ribbon. Everything she has is reclaimed, recycled, and repurposed in a kaleidoscope of pastels. It gives the apartment a shabby-chic meets New Yorker character, and feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived.

"Okay," Amy says, her voice an octave too high.

Jared laughs and swats a hand at us. “You two are no fun!”

“So, Playboy,” Katie says addressing Derrick, “Seriously now, how many kids do you guys want to have? Have you talked about these things? Or are you waiting for the stick to turn blue so you can wing it?” She’s smiling casually, her arm draped over the back of her chair.

Derrick nervously runs his fingers through his dark hair as he clears his throat. He's taken this kind of abuse from Katie before, but she's taunting him more than usual tonight.

Deciding to change tactics, he quickly asks, “Katie, how’s Seth doing? I heard his tour is almost over. What do you plan to do for his homecoming?”

Oh, God! He gave Katie free range to blab about her and Sexbot all night. The nickname we gave Seth in high school stuck. I manage to maintain the plastic smile on my face as Katie responds.

“I’m pretty sure he plans on doing me—over and over again, upside down and right side up—it’s been a while, you know?” Only Jared laughs. Katie stuffs a forkful of salad in her mouth and continues, her voice suddenly soft and sober. “I’m glad it’s almost over. It’s terrifying not knowing if he’s all right.” She looks around the room self-consciously, as if checking to see if anyone noticed the change in her voice.

Curious, Jared asks, “What does Seth do? Army?”

Katie shakes her head. “No, he wanted to go big or go home—he’s a Marine.”

“Wow, no kidding!” Jared seems impressed. I’m sure he’s wondering about the man that could take on Katie.