Table of Contents
Promises, Promises
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
(NOT Appropriate for Younger Readers)
******
Janice Baker
Promises, Promises
Copyright © 2013 Janice Baker
Cover Photo by ©Margarita Borodina
Cover Design by Deanna Hatmaker
Editing by Deanna Hatmaker
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author. Exceptions are reviewers who may quote short excerpts for review.
This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and other incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Prologue
Izzy
I sucked down the last of my Shirley Temple making that slurping noise that Harry hates. I looked up and watched Mom walk out the front door with a man. I get so sad when she does that. She keeps promising she’ll stop, but she never does.
“How about another one, Ace?” I looked back at Harry, smiled really big and nodded.
“Yes please!" I loved it when Harry called me “Ace.” He said he used to call his daughter that too when she was my age. I watched him make me another Shirley Temple with lots of that red stuff. He winked at me as he put in three cherries. He slid the glass towards me and I grabbed it, taking a sip quickly. He had a sad look on his face, like I do every time Mom leaves with a strange man.
I watched the door open and Mr. Thatcher came walking in. I jumped off my stool and ran to him. He’s great. He teaches me how to play pool and always gives me advice about life. He’s been out of town for a while now though. He travels a lot, but I’m always happy when he comes back. He took out a small red bean bag dog from his back pocket and handed it to me.
“Wow! Thanks! I love him!” I clutched my new dog tightly to my chest.
He smiled down at me and ruffled my hair. “Did you finish all your homework, Iz?” I nodded my head. This time I really had. He doesn’t usually check, but one time he did and he made me finish before I could play pool.
“Now can we work on my bank shot?” I asked as I watched Harry hand him a beer.
“Yep, let’s grab that table over there.” He gestured toward my favorite table. It was my favorite because I couldn’t see the door. People coming in and out always makes me a bit jumpy and then I miss my shot. I hate missing my shot.
“Can I use a stool this time?” I asked knowing he probably wouldn’t let me. I used to be able to use one, but then I got to a certain height and he said I need to learn how to play like everyone else. I hated that.
He gave me a funny look, making his eyebrows pull together. “Now, why would you get one this time when you haven’t used one in a while?” He handed me a cue stick. I huffed and he shook his head while laughing at me while he lined up the balls on the table.
That guy Joey walked in. He annoys me. He always makes a fuss about me being in here. Says there shouldn’t be kids in here. Harry always tells him it’s his bar and I’m not drinking so I can stay.
Joey glanced back and shook his head at me. Mr. Thatcher helped me angle the cue stick to make sure I hit the ball correctly.
“Why you teachin’ her that, Ted? She shouldn’t even be in a place like this,” Joey yelled over from his bar stool.
Mr. Thatcher shook his head and walked towards Joey lowering his voice. They never think I can hear what they say, but I always do.
“I’m not gonna fight with you about this every time, Joey. She just needs something to focus on rather than what her Mom does. Would you rather her just sit at home listening to CC go at it with her latest John?”
“I think the better thing to do is let the authorities take care of it,” Joey huffed while staring over at me.
“No, if they do that, she’ll be in the system forever. She’s a sweet kid. If we can just help her out a little, then she’ll have a good basis for life.”
Joey shook his head as he watched a gang of bikers come in. “You think this is better for her? Would you want your daughter here?”
“No, but I also wouldn’t want her back at home with CC and one of them trying to come on to her.”
“How do you know that wouldn’t happen when you’re out of town?” Joey asked really loud. He seemed really mad.
“Because she’s been coming here straight from school and Harry’s been watching her. Between me, Harry, Mikey and Dave, we’ve got it figured out, so she’ll be alright,” Mr. Thatcher told Joey.
“Hopefully. This is just messed up.” Joey said and drank from his beer.
Mr. Thatcher walked back and we played pool for a while. Mom finally came back. She nodded her head to me that it was time to head home. I ran around and got my hugs from all the guys. Mr. Thatcher said he’s in town for a while again. That made me happy.
Mom and I got home, well, most kids wouldn’t call it a home. It was really a motel room, our third one this month.
“Not a bad night, Isabella, huh? You got to play pool and I was able to make a little bit of money. We’ll be moving on to a nicer place in no time.”
I shrugged. “You always say that.”
She sat down on the bed next to me with that pouty face she makes. “Aww, but this time,
THIS
time, Isabella, I promise!”
It’s the same promise as always. I keep hoping one day we’ll actually have a nice home like my friends or she would be a mom like my friends have, but her promises always fall through. Always. “Promises, promises,” I huffed back at her. She rolled her eyes.
“It’s gonna happen, Isabella. Mark my words.”
Harry taught me that sometimes promises are only as good as the action behind the promise. Other than that, promises are just that – promises, promises.
Chapter 1
Izzy
My mind was racing in an endless loop of thoughts. Do I really want this? Is this what I really want to do? Leave HIM? Forever? Yes..? No…? What HE did was unthinkable, but did HE really make me do it? I mean, I let it happen. Although, it was under HIS command.
HIS command – that’s what it comes back to. I was so used to letting HIM control me, my body...my mind…allowing HIM to do things to my body most women would never allow. The control…
Walking faster, I couldn’t stop the tears…uncontrollable. I could feel the black limo following me…or was it my imagination? Was I really free to leave? Or was HE treating me as a child and seeing if I’d come back on my own.
Memories rushed through my mind of being a child and packing my Barbie suitcase with anything I could find (including stuffed animals and several Barbie dolls) so I could “run away” from home at the age of five. I walked out the front door crying, yelling that I’d never be back. Only to go down the street to realize – where was I going? And now, at the age of 24, I was asking myself the same exact question and feeling just like I did at the age of five. Where was I going?
I had no family and I had broken contact with Brad and all my college friends, even my best friend, after I had met HIM. That was two years ago. Had it really been two years now I was under HIS control? HE would never say HE loved me. I understood that from the beginning. HE had told me HE was incapable of love. That was okay with me at the time. What HE offered to a woman just out of college was incredible, I thought at the time. Starting out with expensive clothes, living in HIS penthouse apartment, fancy dinners, cars, travels to Europe on a whim. It was everything a young woman could want.
Except love.
The one thing HE explained in the beginning that HE would never be able to provide. Love. Being 22 and naive…I could make HIM change – love me as I wanted to be loved.
I increased my speed and ducked into a coffee shop. I took a seat in the back so I could see the door. My heart was racing a mile a minute. Panic was setting in. Money. I had a little cash in my bank account that I hadn’t used in what, two years? I wonder how much was in there. I never had to check since I never needed money for anything.
Living? Where would I live? Melanie and I had fought about HIM. Could I contact her again? Would she forgive me? I still had her email address, but I can’t use the internet on my phone since I left it on the counter at his penthouse. I left anything HE had given me except the clothes on my back and my purse containing my ID, debit card and lip gloss. Or was that HIS since HE paid for it?
I was glad I ran into this place. It was an older cafe that had three ancient looking computers lined up against the left wall and as I looked up, I noticed one available. Sitting down in front of it, I typed in Yahoo and logged into my old account. Password. What was it? Oh yes! Huffy – the name of my first pink bike. Riding my bike was the only time I was content and felt free.
I logged in and noticed a gazillion emails. I started to type a new email to my friend, but froze, laughing to myself as to what to write.
Hello, how are you? Haven’t seen you for two years, but I’m running away from my crazy lover/companion/controller/Dominate. I need a place to stay. Can I stay with you?
What the hell am I going to write? Because that clearly isn’t the best opener!
A nice waitress came over asking what I would like to drink. Coffee. I definitely needed coffee. She seemed to notice I had been crying and she gave me a sweet sympathetic smile. I’m sure I looked a mess.
I turned back to the email and with a deep breath, I decided on the truth – well most of it. I’d leave out the sexual part of it.
Melanie,
I’m so sorry to write to you now after our huge fight two years ago, but I could really use a friend right now. I am leaving him and need a place to stay. I was wondering if I could crash at your place for a little while to clear my head and get back on my feet. I apologize for this being so sudden and, well, weird. I am in a coffee shop writing this as I have nothing else except the clothes on my back.
Isabella
The nice waitress came back with my coffee and another sympathetic smile. I turned back to the computer after pouring in two creams and two sugars. After all, I was no longer with him, so I didn’t need to just have it black because HE was controlling my weight. Taking a sip of my sugary, sweet coffee, I felt exhilarated on my new found freedom. I refreshed my email and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed how quickly she replied.
Oh my God! I have missed you so much these past years and have thought of you so often. I told you he was really a jerk! Lucky for you, our old roommate just got married and moved out. I live with two guys now, so as long as that doesn’t bother you, you are more than welcome! Do you need any money to get here? How can I help you? I cannot wait to see you again after all this time!
Love,
Mel
How could I have just left such a good friend to be with HIM? Tears began to spill down my cheek, remembering our last fight before I left to move in with HIM.
I checked the train schedule and wrote back what time I would arrive and that I should be okay with money.