Broken Promises (The Brianna Lane Series) (12 page)

BOOK: Broken Promises (The Brianna Lane Series)
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It didn’t matter I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t extinguish the sense of foreboding that lingered in my heart. This may have been my overactive imagination taking a toll, but fear also dominated, reminding me it wouldn’t take much for the dream to become reality.

I let out a shaky breath and allowed the surrounding silence to soothe me. I focused on my heartbeat, its rapid pounding slowly returning to its normal pace. Stretching my tense muscles, I untangled myself from the bedding only to remember I didn’t know where I was.

Startled, my gaze darted around the darkened room, looking for anything that could shed some light. Movement in the corner drew my attention quickly and as a form stepped out of the shadows, my mind kicked into action. I scrambled against the headboard and I did the only thing I could—I screamed.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

I kept yelling until I ran out of breath, forced into silence by burning lungs. My focus never left the emerging form and when he was completely revealed, I recognized him as the man who’d carried me to the car. My brain struggled to recall information—his name on the tip of my tongue. He sensed my uncertainty, stopping before me, and raised his hands up as a sign he meant no harm.

“I’m not sure if you remember anything because you were pretty out of it when I found you but my name is . . .”

I interrupted him before he could say another word. I knew who he was. “Your name is Liam.” My voice came out as a croak. Without another word, he left the room and returned shortly with a glass of water. Handing it to me, he stepped away, giving me space and sat down with his back against the far wall.

“And you’re?”

“My name is Bri.”

We sat in silence as I slowly sipped on the water, its cold wetness easing my burning throat. I studied him openly, wondering about this change in circumstances. He reminded me a little of Quinn, his build the same, but that’s where the similarities ended. Liam kept his light brown hair shorter, cropped to his scalp, and his eye color was the same as mine—green. He was definitely handsome, but lacked the seductive allure Quinn possessed—though I was sure there were a number of woman who would find him attractive. All of that aside, I was just grateful he’d been there to intervene.

When I’d finally had enough water, I leaned over the bed to place the glass on the floor. The sudden movement set my head spinning and it took all my energy to push myself back up.

“Where am I?” I took a tentative glance at Liam—trying to estimate how much danger I was in. Vague snippets surfaced in my memory. He may have been the one who stepped in and saved me earlier, but the events of the last several hours warned me not everything was as it seemed. The man sitting opposite me had temporarily been my savior, but it wouldn’t stop him from turning on me. Sometimes being paranoid saved lives.

“You’re safe. No one will harm you while you’re here.” The room returned to silence and the quiet pacified my frazzled nerves. With the only light coming from the well-lit hallway outside the room, I sat in partial shadow—the darkness offering a sense of security.

“After what I’ve been seeing, I find that hard to believe. I can’t stay here . . . there’s somewhere I need to be.” I winced, hurting as I moved.

“Whoa, you’re not going anywhere. You can trust me. You’re safe.”

“I won’t be until I get to 324 Spring Rd. They know how to help. Noah . . .” I let my sentence fall away. It was a stupid move giving away information to someone I barely knew.

“Then you’re in luck. You’ve arrived and I can take you to him.”

I studied his features, looking for any telltale signs of deception. I took in a deep breath, finding none. “Tell me the truth. I don’t think I can take much more.”

“On my word of honor,” he said solemnly, placing his hand over his heart. Silence filled the air—neither of us speaking as I weighed my options. He didn’t look like he was lying, and he’d had plenty of chances to hurt me. My gut told me I was safe.

“That must’ve been some seriously messed up nightmare. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone scream like that before. You sounded . . . tormented.”

I shuddered. Tormented was only part of it, I thought. Add gut wrenching and soul shattering and maybe that would come close.

Even though my body had returned to normal, the intense emotion was still there, right below the surface. The dream had seemed so real—too personal to share with a stranger.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” My voice quivered. I knew Liam wanted to help—his concerned look obvious. I desperately wanted to open up—voice my fears instead of burying them.

“Are you sure? Because I know it’s dark, but I can see you’re still shaken. My mom used to tell me nightmares don’t seem so scary when spoken out aloud.” There was sincerity in his voice, and something inside me whispered I could trust him. I needed someone to confide in and help me make sense of everything.

I gathered my courage and took the risk. “I dreamed about my boyfriend. Some things happened and we got separated. I think the dream was me subconsciously worrying over it. It was pretty graphic so I just can’t go into . . .” My voice broke and tears welled in my eyes. It hurt too much.

Liam quickly rose and crossed the room, gently sitting down beside me. “May I?”

I looked with blurry vision and saw his outspread arms were offering comfort. The fact he asked first instead of assuming, touched me. I nodded before moving into his embrace.

Everything came crashing down as a torrent of tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking his shirt. Sob after soul shaking sob rattled through me as I gave way to the grief I’d been bottling. It felt strange in another man’s arms after being with Quinn—different, but welcomed. Peace worked its magic as I drew on Liam’s strength and was grateful for his compassion.

His hand gently stroked my hair, the movement reassuring. All it did was remind me of Quinn and his fascination with it. I could picture him in my mind, twirling the strands around his fingers and I broke into deeper sobs. The pain felt endless.

Liam noticed my reaction and stopped, patting my back instead in a soft, spaced rhythm. His body rocked just a fraction, in time with his hand and I felt myself relaxing. After a few minutes, I stilled.

When my meltdown was almost over, he released me and with the pad of his thumbs, wiped away the last of my tears. The touch was gentle, caring, and I relished the contact. After all the violence I’d witnessed and experienced, it was nice knowing not everyone wanted to hurt me.

“Better?” Liam asked, searching to see if I had my emotions under control. “It looks like the shock is starting to wear off. We did our best when we brought you in, but you passed out before we could give you anything. Judging by your face, you’re feeling it now, aren’t you?”

He quickly stood and started for the door. “Let me go grab you something, and I’ll also bring the first aid kit. We took care of your big scrapes and bruises, but now that you’re awake, we can look at the smaller stuff.”

I went to nod again, but remembered just in time—my head was not appreciating any sudden movements. I stared at my hands, mesmerized as I turned them over and over. Dried blood flaked from my skin and I could see where someone had attempted to wipe it away. The stinging came from the small cuts on my fingers and some leading up my arm.

Memories flashed as I remembered fighting someone with a knife. The weapon had gleamed in the light of the alley. It all seemed so surreal now—both the violence and my reaction. If it wasn’t for the constant throbbing, it could have been a dream.

Taking in a deep, steadying breath, I slowly stood. Instantly my body crippled forward, complaining. I ignored it, rocking back and forth as I stretched some of my larger muscles. I moved my arms, testing their strength and took a step forward. I wobbled, pausing to regain my balance before I took a tentative stride. Everything worked and I released a relieved sigh.

There was a voice in my head encouraging me to crawl back into bed and recover, but I knew I didn’t have that kind of luxury. A different ache reminded me I had bigger things to deal with.

“Wow, you must be a fast healer. I thought you’d be bedridden for at least another day.” Liam’s voice startled me as he reentered the room, surprised to see me up and about.

“I don’t have time to. There are things I need to be doing. I can’t stay here forever.” I rested on the bed, relaxing slightly.

“You need to save Quinn,” Liam said casually as he sat and opened a bottle of ibuprofen, handing me some small capsules. “You mentioned his name a few times while you slept,” he added, watching me carefully as he began rummaging through the first aid kit. Finding what he was looking for, he gestured to the pills still in my hand and I picked up the glass of water again.

I swallowed them quickly and faced Liam, sticking my tongue out to show him I’d taken them. It was something I did with Quinn after years of belly aching about the grossness of taking medicine. He always needed a little proof I’d done what I was told. It hurt how everything reminded me of him—our little rituals haunting me.

Liam reached forward and washed my skin before dabbing at the cuts with a medicated cotton swab. I flinched a little at the bubbling sensation and pulled back. Holding firmly, he leaned forward and blew across my skin—instantly relieving the sting.

Noticing my shocked look, Liam smiled. “I heard it helps to blow on it and I didn’t think you’d appreciate me kissing it better.” There was a twinkle in his eye, showing me he was teasing me, and he resumed his task.

Finished with my right hand, he gestured for me to give him my left one. “So who is Quinn and why do you need to save him? He wasn’t one of the scum who did this to you, was he?” His grip on my hand tightened and I whimpered softly. “Sorry, treating women like that, it doesn’t sit well with me . . . gets me a little heated.” He blew on my skin again, and put the swab with the rest of the trash he was collecting.

“No, he wasn’t.” I didn’t add that he’d threatened me though. “He’s my boyfriend, and he’s not himself right now. I need to figure out how I can help him.” I didn’t know how much to tell Liam, but he solved that problem with his next comment.

“He converted, didn’t he? He turned and you didn’t.” I was amazed at how matter of fact his statement was.

“Yeah.” I let out a loud breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so scared. It was like he was possessed. One minute he was the man I love and next . . .” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

“Look at me, Bri.” Liam used his finger to lift my chin. “However he was acting the last time you saw him, remember that’s not him. A man in love would never hurt his woman. He’d cherish her too much.”

“I can’t believe how quickly the change came over him. You know what’s happening out there, right?” I looked at him closely. “Of course you do, I remember you saying something about looking for people.”

“Yeah, I know what’s happening. There’s a group of us who’ve been searching the streets, looking for others who aren’t affected by the madness.” Liam started dabbing the peroxide on my cheek. “So, tell me something about Quinn. What kind of man is he?”

Liam must have sensed my turmoil as image after image churned over and over in my mind. Quinn, blue-eyed, with hatred and anger blazing—twisting my wrist and driving me to my knees. Quinn speaking to me, as though I was nothing. Quinn—my beloved Quinn—choking me.

“Come on. Focus on the positive.”

Shaking free of the memories, I closed my eyes and called on happier times. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. “He had a soft spot for animals. I used to call him the Pied Piper of the neighborhood because without fail, you’d always find a trail of critters following him. My neighbor owns this mean dog that would throw itself at the fence, trying to attack anyone who passed by. I’d even cross the street to avoid it. Not Quinn though. I almost died the day he stopped right in front of the beast and with no fear, reached out and ruffled its ear with affection. I waited for it to chomp his hand off, but the dog rolled onto his back and bared his stomach instead. Now every day for the last year, Quinn makes sure to go by and say hello.”

I heard the wistful tone in my voice and had to admit, Liam’s strategy to get me talking about Quinn was a good one. Already the darkness was receding and I started feeling hopeful again.

“The other week one of the loud mouths on the street thought he was tough. He marched up to the dog like he could tame him and bragged to anyone who’d listen that he was nothing special.” I snorted. “It took thirty two stitches to clean up his ravaged hand and arm. What an idiot.”

“Sounds like he’s a good guy.” Liam smiled as he finished treating my cuts. “That’s a great memory.”

I nodded in agreement, pleased the ibuprofen had begun working and the room had ceased spinning. Talking about Quinn had warmed me, but I also knew it was time for answers.

“So what’s happening, Liam? Out in the streets, I mean. Who are these people you say you’re with? What are your plans? Do you know how to reverse the conversion?” I fired question after question, knowing I should also share what I knew. I was anxious to see how he answered first though.

“A lot. Madness. People who know what’s happening. To fight. Not yet but we’re working on it.” He let out a throaty laugh when I looked at him first in confusion and then rolled my eyes in frustration. “Does that answer your questions?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to give him a snarky reply, but I laughed and the action felt good. It didn’t touch the heavy part inside me, but it took the edge off my worry. I appreciated his effort to cheer me, realizing in the brief time we’d been talking, I’d decided I kind of liked him. Liam had many opportunities to take advantage of me, especially when I was vulnerable. Instead he showed he could be a great confidant and my heart felt lighter. I needed that.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He smiled, standing. “Maybe now’s a good time to call your grandmother.”

“How do you . . . ?” I looked at him quizzically, not knowing how he knew her.

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