Stealing Promises (11 page)

When she sat him down on the couch he seemed tense and nervous; she had made him that way.

“What’s going on love?”

“
I just thought that we should talk. I mean I know the holidays are coming up and graduation… I was just kind of wondering where do we go from here?”

“
Well, you're taking off next semester to write a book, and then starting Masters classes I thought.”

“
What about you?” She stood, she was too uncomfortable with the situation to sit.

“
I think I’m going to visit my dad for couple weeks. But when I get back I guess I’ll start looking for a job. The hotel industry is always looking for managers.  Hopefully, I won’t have that much trouble. Why do you ask?”

Victoria started chewing on her lower lip,
“I  was just thinking about where I was going to live after graduation and I was thinking that I was going to get apartment on my own.”

He stood up slowly with a confused look on his face.,
“Is that what this is about?”

“
It’s about that and so much more. I just don’t think I’m ready for any of this.”

“
Any of what?”

She threw her hands up in the air,
“Of us. Of this becoming so serious. I don’t think I’m ready.” She turned away.

“
It’s not that serious yet, but we’re making steps. I don’t understand what’s gotten into you. I haven’t even pushed. Don’t shut me out now.”

“
I don’t want to.” She moved away so he couldn’t see the pain this was causing her, she was still so conflicted when it came to Brighton.

“
So, then don’t. We’ve been over this at least three times in the past couple months. I care about you! Why is that so hard for you to see?”

Victoria turned to look at him his eyes pleading with her,
“It’s not that it’s hard to see. It’s just that it’s hard to understand.” She shook her head back and forth and attempted to walk away but he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him.

“
Why? Why is it so hard for you to understand how I feel about you? I care about you, Victoria.  I see something for us. We have a future here and you’re throwing it away.”

She looked down at his hands clenching hers trying desperately to hold on to a relationship that she wasn’t prepared for.
“I don’t know if I’m ready!” She pulled away from him and crossed her arms. She shook her head, “I only lost Levi six months ago. I don’t know that I can ever love anybody again like I loved him.” She watched the hurt come over Brighton’s beautiful green eyes and she knew that the pain was slicing through his heart, but she had to be honest with him. It wasn’t fair to tell him lies or give him hopes that may never come to fruition. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting her as well. Her own honesty had caught her off guard. She still didn’t know how she felt. In so many ways she had made it out of the darkness, but so much was still uncertain. She wasn’t over Levi yet and she didn’t know how to get to that place where he would finally be in her past. “I’m sorry. I really am Brighton. You know I care about you too. I want to be ready for something more, I really do.”

He nodded his head,
“I know. But you think you’ll ever get there? To a place where Levi isn’t the number one man in your life?”

She inhaled his musky scent.
“Kiss me.”

He obliged, their lips and tongues moving in perfect synchronization.  When her head found the pillow he let go of her to remove his shirt. She looked into his beautiful eyes and smiled.

She didn’t love Brighton, not yet. But she was ready to try.

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Brina Courtney is a young adult author obsessed with chocolate, crime shows, and fantasy movies. She lives in a small town in Pennsylvania with her husband and two very loud, small dogs.

Turn the page for a special look at
MOVE,
Brina’s YA Contemporary serial.

Move

Episode I

By Brina Courtney

Sometimes Dallas gets drunk and doesn’t remember what she did last night. Sometimes she loses friends. Sometimes her mom’s boyfriend beats her until she can’t walk. Sometimes her life sucks, but sometimes it’s beautiful.

When Dallas dances her world is her own and she can escape her otherwise horrible life. Dallas now must overcome her past to give herself a future at the Allenwood Academy of Dance in Cape Haven, CT. When her feet are bleeding and her heart is breaking, Dallas must find the strength to go on.

1

Just move.
She kept telling herself as she fled, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her through the dark woods. Her breathing became labored and she recognized she needed to find a place to hide. She could hear her mom’s ridiculous boyfriend, Mike, stumbling his way through the trees behind her. Dallas knew she was light on her feet however she wasn't sure how good his endurance would be as intoxicated as he was. His rage would push him further than he had ever gone before, she was sure of it. She clutched the six pack she'd stolen from his fridge and smiled to herself. She couldn't help it. She liked to have a good time and the beer helped with that. She thought back to the last time he had beat her, only a few weeks before when she had stolen from him. She didn't know how he kept catching her, possibly her own mother was ratting her out; it wouldn't be the first time. But as long as she got away she thought she would be safe.

She
brought her eyes up from the ground hoping to see the old building on the horizon. She looked behind her one more time, the wind stinging her eyes as she realized that Mike was no longer following her. She figured the beer back home outweighed running through the woods just for a measly six pack; something he could finish in just an hour. She slowed down the pace considerably but continued to jog as she made her way up the hill to her safe haven. No one had any idea that this building was up here hidden amongst the foliage, but it was where she enjoyed peace and solitude. But ever since Dallas could remember this had been her spot; her spot to hide, her spot to escape.

She trudged up the hill mud sticking to her flats
that hardly fit her. It had been years since Dallas had gotten new clothes and shoes. Everything had come from the secondhand store and although she didn’t mind not having labels like most kids at school she at least wished she had clothes that fit her. She wasn’t tall by any means, but she was thin, so her mom thought children’s clothes should still fit her even though she was a junior in high school. But that didn’t matter now, she had her beer, and she had a place to hide out and drink it. She could ignore her mother, Mike, and all the feelings she had pent up inside.

Things ha
dn’t always been that bad for Dallas Tanner, a life once not unlike a childhood dream, sweet and honest. But her dream was shattered when her mom couldn’t put down the drugs and started having affairs, and her father, a businessman, couldn’t see his way out of the mess without leaving Dallas behind. Adults make mistakes too, she’d always told herself that but it still didn’t mean that her heart didn’t hurt every night when she thought of him. She dreamed of him picking her up as a small child and placing her on a swing. He would push her high into the air and she believed she was flying. It was her father who had once taken her to this dance studio so long ago for her first lesson in ballet. It was as if the building had died when Dallas’s relationship with her father had perished. Its floorboards groaned as she entered. She ran her finger along the mirrored walls that remained and slowly made her way to the office where she kept all of her secrets. A few years after Dallas’s father had left the studio had endured a horrific fire and the business had been forced to move. The structure had been considered condemnable but no one in her small Illinois town ever had the heart to complete the project. So here it stood. A shell of its former self almost like an aged Las Vegas dancer, trying to relive its former glory as it welcomed Dallas and her blistered feet.

Dallas p
laced the six pack upon the desk that remained in the office with one small chair. Then she took off her shoes and walked back out onto the floor positioning herself in front of the few mirrors that remained whole. She stretched slowly feeling the tenseness of her muscles that she hadn’t used in nearly a month. This is been her first opportunity to slip away from Mike’
s evil glare. She still couldn’t believe that her mother had even considered dating him let alone allowing him to move into their home. What had once been an adorable Cape Cod now looked like a place where white trash came to hang out. The sheer amount of druggies that walked in and out of her front door made her stomach queasy as she stretched from her fingertips to her toes. When had her life become such a nightmare?

She raised her arms simply a
bove her head until her fingertips barely met and spun herself into a pirouette as she allowed her hands to fall slowly down to her sides. She quickly transformed her body into beautiful arabesque before returning to first position. Her instruction was minimal and her natural talent was something to behold. No one had seen her dance in years and that was a disgrace. Dallas had the raw ability that most dancers would die to possess. She was simply breathtaking and while playing music in her head she performed a simple and short routine. The unheard rhythm moved swiftly through her body and she pushed her emotions out through her breaths as she moved. She closed her eyes to imagine a vast crowd before her cheering her on and giving her the encouragement that she desperately needed. When she curtsied and the audience had finished their bravos, she opened her eyes to see only herself in unfit clothes and unwashed hair.

I better get myself some new clothes soon
, she thought to herself,
or that social worker’s gonna come back from foster care
. Dallas hated her social worker. The woman had been forced upon Dallas after she had entered therapy. It wasn’t her choice but her mother had insisted upon it when Dallas’s father moved out. Dallas wasn’t even sure why she was in therapy to begin with, she refused to talk to the portly man who sat in the chair across the room saying things like “mmm” and “I see.” All that he did was take notes, and refuse to look at her. Then he suggested her case to Children’s Services and now she had an underpaid and truly dismal social worker, who also never looked at her in the eye. For a long time Dallas felt like people believed that if they looked at her, their fathers would leave too, like it was contagious or something. But looking closely at her reflection in the mirror she realized that lately people had been staying away from her because she looked like a charity case. Clearly her mother’s drug use was sapping up all of their resources. She knew her father paid some child support but she had never seen any of it. Somewhere deep down she truly believed that her mother was keeping her from him. Like she was ignoring the custody agreement. That would explain the lack of money as well.

Dallas slowly walked over to the mirror
her arm extended, reaching out to touch the face of the gaunt girl in the old cool glass. Her once naturally blonde hair was now dyed a bright red color and her skin looked truly pale. It was hard to imagine that that is what she had become, just another rough looking kid. She shook her head and walked slowly back to the office. She cracked open not one but two beers she’d stolen. She double fisted them allowing the frothy substance to go down her throat at alarming speed. She had finished the entire six pack in under five minutes, something she was used to accomplishing. She crossed her arms over her chest and laid her head back in the chair allowing herself to enjoy the buzz and closed her eyes as she waited to pass out. She knew exactly how to get her body to do what she wanted it to do, she done this so many times before. She took deep breaths and she allowed the darkness to overtake her mind hoping that tonight she would travel to someplace new in her dreams, though she was unsure where she would go.

Unfortunately today’
s dream was something made of nightmares. She recalled a recent altercation with Mike. Her body trembled in response to the awful images crossing her mind and the reminders of how each blow had felt against her skin. It was about two weeks ago when Mike had caught her drinking from a twenty-four pack she had hid beneath her bed in her room. As usual he assumed that she had stolen from him, not without cause either. Dallas was an excellent thief. She learned the skill a few years ago when her mother had stopped providing for her and there was no money to be had. Dallas had to figure out a way to get things that she needed, clothes, money for lunch at school, so she started taking money from her mom’s purse. There was also a shoebox located in her mother’s closet that held most of what Dallas would consider her mother’s life savings. She was only taking minimal money in order to survive but she was still a thief.

I
n her dream it was dark when he entered her room and she silently prayed that he would think that she was asleep or passed out and not bother her. Then she saw his huge outline in the doorway, light flooding in from behind him and she realized it wouldn’t matter she was asleep, he would still come after her. She attempted to flee from the bed but with nowhere to go she knew the imminent doom that was upon her as he grabbed her wrists and slapped her back down onto the bed. He took one of his hands to grab both of her wrists in order to free up his right hand which he would later use to punch her. But first as usual he put his hand around her throat and accused her of stealing his booze.

“
You think I wouldn’t find out? I always know when you take from me girl.”

She ripped her head back and forth,
“I didn’t take any this time! I swear it Mike!”

He leaned in close to her
, his musty drunken scent filling her nostrils, “I don’t believe you.” He growled in her ear.

When she started gasping for breath he released his hand from her throat
and she used all her force to attempt to push him off of her but he brought his knee up to her chest and pinned her further into the bed. He wound up hard before hitting her square in the jaw while she writhed in pain. She knew if she stopped struggling he would stop the beating, so she allowed her body to go limp while the pain spread across her face and into her head. He grunted at her, taking the alcohol from beneath her bed and leaving the room. She made sure she couldn’t hear footsteps anymore before she allowed her tears begin.

The pain in her head was intense but the pain in her heart was far worse. She felt powerless against the man her mother insisted Dallas call ‘father’. But it wasn’t true; no real father would treat their daughter with such disrespect. She allowed the anger to pulse through her body and stood from her bed swaying from the pain at the back of her skull. She lifted a vase from her
desk, that had once been her grandmother’s, and threw it against her door. After realizing she had destroyed her only connection to her grandmother she slumped down onto the floor cradling the pieces of broken glass in her hands.

Dallas was losing control.