Promise Me (7 page)

“A what?”

He sat down on the flat surface of one of them.  “They were once cable spools.  Now they double as tables, chairs, whatever.” 

“Oh,” I sat down carefully on the other one, crossing my legs at the ankle. 

Grayson’s eyes traveled down my bruised legs and a grimace crossed his face but he tried to hide it a second later.  I felt a bit shy being alone with him and he seemed to sense that, keeping himself at a careful physical distance. 

I swallowed.  “Thank you,” I said softly. 

He knew what I meant.  And he wasn’t going to say it was nothing or any such trifling nonsense.  “You’re welcome,” he finally said.

We sat in silence for a moment and when I glanced up I realized he was studying me.   This close to him, I also saw how handsome he was.  His skin was a few shades deeper than the olive-skinned Italian sisters who had studied at Hale with me.  His lips were full and his eyes were dark and guarded. 

“Who’s Jenny?” he finally asked in a low voice. 

I exhaled thickly.  “My sister.  Married off to a depraved leader of another community.  She’s sixteen,” I finished in a choked voice. 

“Fuck,” he said softly, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t say it was okay.  Anyway he knew it wasn’t. 

“How do you feel?”  He looked me up and down critically. 

“Angry,” I said.  It was an honest answer. 

Grayson nodded soberly, staring at the unlaced black c
ombat boots he wore.  “Shit.  I don’t fucking blame you for that.”  He raised his head and gave me a slight smile.   “You really do seem a lot better though.” 

I tried to smile back.  “I must have looked pretty nineteenth century to you.” 

He thought about that.  “I guess.”  He was quiet a moment.  “And how did I look to you?”

Raw. Dark. Dangerous.  But that wasn’t all.  “You looked like my last hope.” 

He was thoughtful. “You don’t have a lot of people who look like me where you come from, do you?”

I thought about Winston calling him a dark devil.  I thought about the terrible things the
Faithful church taught its children.  “None,” I said honestly.

He stared
me right in the eye. “You’re safe here, Promise.”

The sound of his voice saying my name was like an electric shock.   He meant I was sa
fe with Rachel, with the Defiant Motorcycle Club.  But more than that, he meant I was safe with him.  “I know.  I knew that right away, Grayson.” 

My words seemed to ignite something in his eyes and he looked away, sighing deeply.  A hot wind skated over us and my hair fell in my face again.  I pushed it back and saw him staring at me again.  I wondered what exactly he saw.  A broken thing to be pitied most likely. 

The hard, unsupported surface of the spool was becoming increasingly uncomfortable to sit on.  I shifted and winced, hating that he would again be reminded of how he had found me.  He started at my painful shudder and almost seemed like he was going to reach for me before he stopped himself and gazed out toward the Riverbottom. As he leaned forward, the sleeve of his t-shirt slid up, revealing a tattoo on his left shoulder which extended halfway down his upper arm.  It was a cross outlined in thick black lines.  Inside were the words ‘No man can judge me.” 

“I know,” he said softly.  “What it’s like to feel wronged.  Furious.  It’s not an easy thing to endure and it’ll eat you alive if you let it.” 

I remembered what Kira had said about Grayson’s time in prison.  Specifically that he had been innocent of the crime which landed him there.  I assumed that was what he was talking about. 

Grayson se
emed to snap out of his brief spell of melancholy in a heartbeat.  He grinned.  “So, you burn that ugly dress?”

I laughed.  “All of them.” 

“This one suits you better.”  For a split second I caught a look in his eye, the look of how a man sees a woman.  And then it was gone so quickly I figured I had to have imagined it. 

I rose sluggishly from the spool.  When it seemed I might stumble, Grayson’s hand shot out to steady me.  His hand lingered on my elbow a few seconds longer than necessary.  I didn’t want to leave.  I felt less vulnerable with him close by.  But, I reflected, I couldn’t expect the man to trail around in my wake, defending me from the world like a persistent bodyguard.  I would need to learn how to stand alone if I was going to find a way to help Jenny, if I was even going to find a way to help myself. 

“Well,” I said as he reluctantly withdrew his hand, “maybe I can aid Kira in figuring out her cookie recipe.”

“Oh, shit,” he laughed.  “I’m afraid that might be a lost cause.” 

“No,” I shook my head grimly.  “There’s no such thing.”

His smile disappeared and the thoughtful look returned.  “You’re right, Promise.” 

I turned and started walking toward the house.  I didn’t say goodbye and neither did he.  Because we both knew it wasn’t. 

Kira wasn’t a total disaster in the kitchen.  It just seemed no one had taught her there was more to cooking than boiling water.  And that ingredients shouldn’t be substituted willy-nilly.  And furthermore that the temperature of the oven mattered somewhat. 

“Brown sugar,” I frowned, looking at the gingersnap recipe she had set her heart on.  “If you don’t have a jar of dark molasses, you can use brown sugar.  After all, it’s made from white sugar and molasses so it will be the closest taste substitute.”

Kira triumphantly produced a bag of brown sugar which had been left open at some point, leaving the contents rock hard.  I turned the oven temperature down and rolled the whole chunk onto a tin baking sheet.  I let Kira slide it into the oven since bending down was still a bit rough for me. 

“How long?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“About five minutes,” I said. 

She appraised me silently as she played with her golden hair.  “How’d you learn all this?”

I laughed hoarsely.  “Are you kidding?  We have the domestic arts drummed into us from the cradle.  With the intention that it will make us into suitable brides.” 

“Oh,” Kira said uncomfortably.  She stared out the window with a frown.  “My mom took off when I was five and my dad wasn’t really equipped to train anyone on the ‘domestic arts’.”  She smiled to herself.  “He used to tell me that men would be pigs unless you demanded otherwise from them.  He also told me to look every damn one of them in the eye and not flinch because there was no man better than me.” 

“You’re lucky,” I said with a head shake, thinking how I’d always been taught the very opposite. 

Her face darkened.  “I was,” she said softly.  She saw my puzzled face so she explained.  “My father was murdered three months ago.”

I touched her shoulder. “Kira.  I’m so sorry.”

She smiled through the tears in her pretty eyes.  “He was a good dad.  Regular folks wouldn’t have thought so to look at him, but he was.  You know, he grew up with Orion.  They were best friends, brothers of a sort, for a long long time.” 

“What happened?” 

She shrugged.  “I honestly don’t know. But it was bad and it was painful and it’s the one thing Orion won’t talk about with me.”  Then she laughed.  “I take that back.  There are fucking buckets filled with shit Orion won’t talk about with me.  But I guess I don’t want to know all of it anyway.” 

After a few minutes Kira removed the brown sugar from the oven and discovered it had softened as I told her it would.  I watched as she carefully measured out ingredients and showed her how to use a sifter which, surprisingly, was located deep in the recesses of the kitchen cabinet. 

“What’s this shit?” a voice growled and I spun around. 

He loomed in the doorway, a great hulking presence with a bottle of Jim Beam in his fist.  His gaze didn’t seem particularly friendly as his sharp blue eyes watched me. 

But Kira waved him off.  “Oh, go away, Orion.  We’re doing women’s work in here, right Promise?” 

“Go away?” he barked with extreme menace.  He reached Kira in two long steps and seized her around the waist.  She squealed as he lifted her onto the counter and positioned himself between her legs.  I relaxed slightly when I realized Kira was smiling. 

Orion put the bottle down on the counter.  “I seem to remember fucking begging to be left to my sleep this morning.”  He touched the top button on her low-cut shirt and she leaned into him.  “But a certain girl had her own goddamn ideas.” 

“I think your dick agreed with me,” she responded quickly, reaching low.  I blushed furiously, not knowing where to look. 

“You almost done here?” Orion asked, the threat gone from his voice and a husky quality replacing it. 

Kira consulted her recipe with one hand and kept her other hand cupped between Orion’s legs.  “I think so.”  She smiled at me.  “Promise is teaching me how to cook.”

“Good,” he nodded.  “A man gets sick of macaroni and cheese.”

“Sometimes I make spaghetti.  So fuck you.”

Orion groaned.  “Now,” he said urgently, pressing into her. 

“Fifteen minutes,” she smiled. 

“Now,” he insisted and threw her over his shoulder. 

Kira looked at me laughingly, her hair falling all around her face as Orion carried her away.  “Promise, don’t let my cookies burn. Promise me, okay?”

“I promise,” I smiled, letting her get away with a joke I’d heard ten thousand times in my life.  

I ran the kitchen faucet to blot out the noise of Kira and Orion enjoying each other down the hall.  Most of the yelling came from Kira.  I couldn’t help but be astonished that sex could ever be so agreeable. 

But then, I reminded myself that I hadn’t had sex.  What Winston had done to me was something else entirely. 

The big hairy man whose name I remembered was Brandon walked into the kitchen and sniffed the air. 

“What’s your name again?” he asked by way of greeting. 

“Promise,” I answered, shuffling
away when he made a beeline for the bowl containing the remaining cookie batter. 

“Okay if I eat this, Promise?”

Seeing him close up I realized he was younger than he’d seemed at first.  I looked into the bowl doubtfully.  “You shouldn’t.  It contains raw eggs.  Plus Kira won’t be happy.” 

And at that Kira let out a wild shriek of pleasure. 

Orion’s deep voice followed.  “Oh yeah, you like that don’t you, baby?”

“I like it!” she yelled.  “I fucking love it!”

Brandon scooped a finger into the bowl and deposited a wad of cookie batter in his mouth.  “I think Kira’s plenty happy,” he said cheerfully.  Then he picked up the bowl of cookie batter and left the room with it, calling over his shoulder, “Thanks for the snack.” 

I shook my head but smiled.  The people here were very different from the sort I was used to being around, but they all had a certain unique charm.  And their lives seemed so f
ree spirited.  I envied them. 

Kira came bounding back into the kitchen just as I was trying to figure out how to extract the cookie sheet from the oven with a minimal amount of pain.  She withdrew the finished cookies with an oven mitt, marveling over their perfect appearance.  Then she looked around with a frown.  “Where’s the rest of my batter?”

I shrugged guiltily. “Brandon was hungry.” 

“Fucking Brandon.” 

Orion eased into the kitchen and took two of the warm gingersnaps, finishing them with one swallow.  Out of all the men he made me the most nervous.  Perhaps it was because he was the one in charge.  Or perhaps it was because he looked at everyone and everything (excepting Kira) with a sharp intensity which seemed unpredictable.  But just then he leaned against the counter and seemed almost pleasant. 

“You see that old trailer?”  He pointed out the window at the shoddy structure which Rachel had indicated was abandoned. 

“Yes,” I said slowly. 

“You get all that shit cleaned up and you can stay there for a while.” 

“She’s a good cook,” said Kira helpfully.  “Plus, since Talia quit and Adele left we could use some help at the bar.” 

“Hmm,” Orion glanced at Kira.  “Yeah, Adele did leave.  Good thing she had a pile of money to keep her going.” 

Kira smiled sweetly.  “Lover, you told me it was mine.  So I did what I wanted with it.” 

“I remember,” he said softly, then drew her to him gently, kissing her. 

I shifted awkwardly.  What was between these two people was so intense it was difficult to be in the same room with them and not feel virtually invisible. 

Kira dangled the keys to the trailer and offered to help me go through it.   Orion didn’t seem like the type who appreciated fawning female gratitude so I only nodded curtly at him before following Kira out the door. 

He popped a few more cookies into his mouth and smiled.  “These are good,” he said.  Then he picked up his bottle and left.   

“How old are you anyway?”  Kira asked me once we were outside. 

“I just turned twenty one.” 

“Oh, so you’re only a year older than me.  Rachel told me you were in school?”

“Yes, I have a Bachelor of Science in Midwifery.”

“Midwifery.  Wow
, I didn’t know that was still around.”  She paused and seemed like she wanted to ask me more questions but thought better of it.  I figured I must be quite a curiosity to her.

The trailer did look pretty rough.  Some of the siding had peeled off and whatever color it had once been had receded into a sun-baked pale gray.  A swamp cooler perched precariously on the roof along with an ancient television antenna. 

“It’s better on the inside,” Kira said apologetically and opened the door. 

I nodded, thinking that it wouldn’t really trouble me if it was a moldy henhouse.  It was a place to stay.  Still, I’d never lived anywhere alone.  Not even close.  Even at school I’d had several roommates at all times.  I didn’t know whether or not to be grateful for the new solitude, but I couldn’t go taking up Rachel’s bed every night. Before I followed Kira inside I glanced around and saw Grayso
n’s trailer sat less than thirty yards away.  It made me feel a little better that he would be close by.  

“Well,” Kira said cheerfully, turning on the cooler to relieve the stifling air, “this is it.” 

The carpet had been ripped out and the cabinets of the tiny kitchen were missing their doors.  It would take days of old fashioned elbow grease to get the grime and dust cleaned out. 

“It’s nice,” I said softly. 

Rachel found us in there a few minutes later.  She was delighted that Orion was allowing me to stay in the old trailer. 

“Your influence?”  she asked Kira.

Kira grinned and wiped the sweat from her forehead.  “Maybe.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Rachel said with quiet sincerity.   

Kira offered to go take care of things at the bar so Rachel could help me begin to clean the trailer out.  My cousin frowned at me as she watched the way I grimaced periodically with pain as I tried to scrub and dust. 

“Why don’t you go back to my place and rest awhile?”

I shook my head.  “No.  I’ve got to keep moving.”   It was true that when I kept up a steady stream of motion my body didn’t have time to stiffen up, but I’d meant something else. By keeping busy I was able to crowd out all of the terrible things I couldn’t bear to think about.  I also was uneasy about the grim feeling of violence which kept coursing through me.  The ugliness of such thoughts gave me more strength but the impulse was unfamiliar and I didn’t like it. 

The cooler couldn’t keep the extreme heat at bay enough to spend the afternoon in there comfortably, so I agreed to go back to the bar with Rachel.  She said she would have Casper haul over an air mattress for me to sleep on until we got around to something more permanent.

Riverbottom was small and dim and smelled thickly of lacquered wood and smoke.  I had never been inside a bar before but it was just a room with tables, chairs and a long wooden counter. 

Casper, Grayson and Maddox turned around when we entered and I knew they had been talking about me.  Rachel put her arm around Casper and kissed his neck as he stroked her hand absently. 

Kira materialized and handed me a bottle of water.  “Figured this was more your speed,” she said gamely. 

Maddox seemed amused at the sight of me.  Or perhaps that was just his default expression.  “You know the plumbing’s shot to shit in that place,” he said to me. 

“Oh,” I blinked.  I hadn’t given any thought to the plumbing. 

“What Mad means,” Grayson intervened, “is that he’s a licensed plumber and he’d be glad to see what he can do.” 

Maddox wasn’t sure about that.  “What if a job comes up?” he complained. 

“I’ll pay you,” Grayson said quietly and took a drink from a beer bottle. 

“Fuck that,” Maddox sighed.  He walked over to me and held his hand out.  “Key?”

“Oh, I didn’t lock it.”

Maddox grunted, shot a look at Grayson, who smiled at him, and left. 

Casper and Rachel were completely involved with each other and Kira had disappeared.  Grayson watched me silently as I played with the cap on the water bottle. 

“So,” I finally said, “it seems we’ll be neighbors.” 

He nodded and stood.   “Yea
h, I’ll be around so let out a shout if you need anything.”  He started to walk past me and paused, looking me right in the eye.  “I mean that.” 

“I will,” I told him, feeling a strange flush due to how close he was.

Grayson seemed satisfied and called to Casper that he was going to take a ride into Parker to give a quote for a painting job. 

After he’d le
ft Rachel explained to me.  “Gray, Brandon and occasionally Maddox do some general contract work.  Exterior painting, tile laying, et cetera.  They team up with a pair of brothers who are also club members, but live in town.” 

Kira proudly brought us bowls of her famous macaroni and cheese.  I sat down in a chair at Riverbottom Bar in Quartzsite, Arizona and ate it happily.