Promise (31 page)

“Okay. Jordan’s my brother. That horrible woman is Lydia, his social worker. Jeremy . . .” I watch her pull her lips to the side, her nose crinkles as her arms come around her waist. I’m not having any of that, so I grab one of her hands and bring it to my lips before I settle on holding it between us.

“Keep going.”

I listen to her breathing in and blowing the air back out for a moment.

“Jordan is in foster care. My mom lost custody of us when I was ten. I’ve been fighting for him ever since I turned eighteen; I’ve been trying. First, I needed a better job. Then, I needed a better place to live. Then . . .” She stops, sucking in an uneven breath, cutting off whatever the end of that last sentence might have been. “Now, the family he’s been living with has filed a petition to adopt him.”

Her voice catches, and I squeeze her hand because I don’t know what else to do as my heart shatters for her.

“They’re not good people, Beck. They’re
bad
. I’ve been over to the house. When a foster family adopts a foster child, they get $2,452 a month from the state until the child turns eighteen. This family just wants the money. They have four other adopted foster children there, and it’s horrible. Jordan is so unhappy, but no one listens to him.”

The next several minutes are an exercise in self-control. I want to pull over and envelop her. Her voice fills the car with pain too familiar. I need with all my being to take it away from her.

“Jordan doesn’t deserve that. After all we’ve been through, he’s still kind and sweet. I’m the one that loves him. He’s sharing a room with two, seventeen-year-old boys who force him to do everything for them. Otherwise, they pound on him. He comes over with black eyes, and he’s lost so much weight. He doesn’t even have a backpack for school. I gave him one, and they took it from him. I only have a month to try to stop the adoption. Jeremy is supposed to be helping me. He’s my only hope.”

Fuck if he is.

Since I’ve gotten home, I’ve avoided thinking about my own messed up life. The decisions I have to make and the pain I’ve caused. But, listening to her is causing all my own looming bullshit to start knocking around inside my head. Losing my dad is only making each thought sharper, cutting me in soft places I didn’t know were still there.

“Why is he your only hope?” The level of effort it takes to keep my voice in check is daunting. Hearing her say Jeremy is her “only hope” sets my teeth on edge.

I want to tell her everything I know about him. To relieve her of her seeming loyalty to a worthless piece of shit.

“He’s got connections at CPS. I don’t know who else can help me the same way.” She leans down to fiddle and tug on her orange and yellow argyle sock.

“He’s not your only hope. Don’t say things like that. I know this thing between us is new. But, it’s also not new. It’s been a part of both of us for a long time. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. The ‘us’ that we’ve created in the last week feels like it’s been a part of me for a hundred years, and I want it to keep going for a hundred more. I’m here for you. I know I don’t have all the details, but trust me when I tell you, there are always other ways, and I’m here to help you however I can.”

“
He’s
the social worker. He’s got the connections, and he’s trying to help me behind the scenes. I need him.”

“No.” The muscles in my shoulders tighten, and my neck jerks a few times. “You don’t fucking
need
him. I’m not going to tell you right now to do anything differently, but don’t say you need him again. Don’t ever say that again.”

This shit is new to me—these feelings of ownership over her. At moments like this, I can feel how dangerous this could be.

“What? Seriously?” The snark in her voice is not helping me stay in control.

“Yes. Fucking seriously.” The thought of pulling the car over and having a different sort of discussion flashes through my head. “If it wasn’t clear back there, what just happened with us, it meant something. There’s an ‘us’ now, and that means something to me. It means something to you, too. It means you’re mine. You said it, and I meant it. This is no fucking game to me. That means we’re in this together.”

She tugs trying to get her hand out of my grip, but I’m not having it.

“Don’t.” I am losing my patience.

“You don’t get it, do you? Jordan is everything to me.
Everything.
”

That stings. I understand, but still. I need to be her everything. As much as she is mine.

“I do get it. Just don’t speak to Jeremy without me. He’s not all he appears to be. Just trust my spidey sense on that, okay?” I smile and bring her hand to my lips again, trying to ease the moment.

I see the pain in her face, and I never want to be the one that contributes to it in any way.

“We’ll do this. I’ll help you. I’ve got skills . . . and super powers, remember?”

I glance at her until I see her lips turn upward, and finally a full smile breaks over her face, even if her eyes are not entirely along for the ride.

“This is the most important thing I’ve ever done. I have to win. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.” The smile is gone as quickly as it came, and she turns to look out the window as we pull into the back parking lot at Windfield.

“I know, babe. And that makes it the most important thing I’ve ever done, too. We’ve got this. Trust me.”

“He’s not a bad guy. I’ve known him since I was little.”

Yeah, I know him too, and he is a very bad guy. But, I can’t tell you that, and I can’t tell you how I know that.

“Okay.” I pull to a stop by the back door and take a deep breath. “I want to know everything about how you can get your brother. You deserve to have him.”

“How do you know that? I mean, honestly. Maybe I’m
not
a good person. Maybe a lot of things. You don’t know much about me.”

“I know enough. I need to know more, but I sure as shit know that you’re a good person. You need him, and I’m here to help you. So, quit pushing me away. I can feel you doing it. So stop. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

I pull her hand, then work my other arm around her shoulders, pulling her over toward me. Leaning into her, I bring her forehead to rest against mine so she can’t avoid my eyes.

Her breath moves against my face as she starts to speak. “I just have been struggling for so long. I’m so tired.” I can feel her honesty instead of fear.

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

In a heartbeat, I realize what I will always be for her.
Selfless.
I will always put what is best for her ahead of anything else.

She has to know everything I do puts her first. Her needs before mine. Her pleasure before mine. Her life before mine.

“I better go.” The weight of her words breaks my heart.

“Come here.” I’ve got my lips on hers, and I feel her soften as I taste her, and the warmth of her mouth has my cock back in the game, ready to go to bat. “Just one thing. One thing I ask, one non-negotiable rule, okay? Just don’t lie to me. Anything else we can fix and move on. Just don’t lie. Okay? I’ll pick you up at three.”

She looks at me like there is something left unsaid, but I know she’s almost late for her shift, so I decide to let it go. I jump out and make it around to her side and open her door.

“You need me for anything, you just call, got it?”

“Okay. See you.” She gives me a quick peck on the cheek before walking away.

As I watch her disappear behind the steel door at the back of the building, a tightness forms in my gut. My sixth sense is prickling, but I shake it off. So much has happened in the last few days. I’m off my game.

Before I can pull out of the parking lot, my phone is going off. Promise is texting me.

PROMISE: Hey, I forgot. I’m going to cover for someone after my shift. No need to pick me up, I’ve got a ride home. I know your friends are coming into town, so I will see you tomorrow at the service. Have fun tonight.

The fuck?
There’s a new pounding in my chest. She’s been out of my sight for all of two and a half minutes, and I’m already about to stomp my ass back inside that door and drag her out by her hair.

Fucking caveman.

I take a deep breath and try to channel some reason.

ME: Okay, babe. Text me when you leave work and when you get home. Let me know if you need anything. I mean it. ANYTHING.

As much as I’m looking forward to seeing my SEAL brothers, I can’t help but admit that if she gives me the word, I’ll drop them if she waves me in.

I’m her bitch.

Beckett

The Fire Marshall’s investigation came up with something other than a problem with the building’s electrical system. The oven in the attached loft apartment is where the fire originated. They’re still poking around, but what’s done is done. The separate gas line that ran to the apartment is off. We’ve double, and triple checked the other one that runs to the loft.

The guess is that Dad turned the oven on and fell asleep. Only, the stove was brand new, and inside the oven, all the manuals were laying on the wire shelf. They say the temperature was set on 450, high enough to ignite the paper inside. The carbon monoxide leak was from a value under the windows that was attached to a separate heating unit. They think Dad may have hit it with his foot or something because it was wide open.

I say goodbye to a small wooden box inside the funeral home. Eight people came to the service. Eight. Dad’s parents died when he was young. I don’t know that he had any other family, no brothers or sisters, I know that. But still, the lack of family here today is sad.

I don’t know if my mom’s parents are still alive. I never met them. From what I know, they lived in Shaker Heights, and when they found out Mom was pregnant with me at eighteen, they cut her off and that was the last time she saw them. Dad married her the next week.

Today was the end of something, but I’m not sure exactly what.

I am good at walling shit off. Keeping it down. You would never know I just lost my dad. I haven’t cried. The last few days, I did everything I could to avoid thinking about it.

I guess I can be a cold-hearted son of a bitch. All I’ve wanted to do is spend every fucking second with her and not think about this. Avoiding the pain doesn’t make it go away, but old habits die hard.

But, there’s pain here today, and I just feel flat. I should feel more, but I don’t, and that makes it worse.

My SEAL brothers are here, and that is a distraction but also a reminder.

I look up, and Dex catches my eye. I make my way back over to where the four remaining members of our team are huddled by the doorway, out of the room where the service was held.

“I’m sorry, man.” Dex flew in from California. He and I went through hell week together, and it seems the hell hasn’t stopped since.

He sets a comforting hand on my shoulder with a squeeze.

“Thanks.”

“You okay, man? You want us to stick around?” Dex looks up at Leroy and Brendan, my other brothers who look at me with a soft nod.

“No, I’m good. There’s really nothing to do. He didn’t have anything. I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do, though. About coming back.”

“Take your time, you don’t need to decide now. Pipes isn’t coming back. Brendan—” Dex nods at Brendan, giving him an opening.

“I’m done, man.” Brendan looks defeated. “I already lost Jenny for good. I can’t lose my kids. If I want any fucking life, I have to be around for them. I’m not going back.” He lets out a heavy breath, his hands set deep in his suit pockets.

It’s no secret, the statistics on staying married when you’re a SEAL are pretty dismal. It isn’t a life many partners can tolerate. Everything and everybody comes after your duty and commitment to your brothers. To the mission, whatever that may be.

We all start to walk back toward the foyer and end up huddled around the wooden bookstand that holds the guest book. I shake my head that I thought I needed a guest book.

Taking each breath feels like a battle. The guys that saved my ass more times than I can count are here for me, but my head isn’t.

“Hey, can you guys hold on a sec?” I can’t wait any longer.

They nod, and I see Dex look at his watch. He has a flight back to California in a few hours.

They’d all come in town yesterday, and it was good to have the distraction. We all stayed at the loft. But, to be honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“I think we’re going to head out, man. If you’re cool,” Brendan says. “We’re going to share a cab.”

We do our man-pats and say our goodbyes, and the four men I consider my family are out the door and on their way. I twist my neck a couple of times and catch myself thinking about how quickly I can get her out of here with me.

If it hadn’t been for her, I’d have probably fallen into the darkness more than I have.

She’s hovering in the back of the room, chatting up Louis, who knows I don't want her leaving before I can get to her.

Louis always has my back. Has since I was ten and they sat me in the chair in his office, spitting nails, and I learned what a court-appointed liaison was. I don’t deserve him. I’ve let him down more times than I can count, and he has never wavered. Never gave me a hint that he would leave.