Breathless Promises (Alluring Promises Series Book 3) (21 page)

Neither of us spoke the entire way home from the hospital, yet he held my hand the entire way. The grip on my hand tightened and loosened as I watched him seem to have an argument in his own head. Possibly the one he’s going to have with me when we return home.

My cheek throbbed with pain and I realized how bad of a headache I had. Just remembering the reason why I was in so much pain, shot another dose of fear through me. I continually looked behind us to make sure no one was following.

The moment we entered the elevator, he leaned against the opposite side of the car. My heart still raced and I tried to process how quickly it all had happened. I glanced at Clark. Staring at his shoes, he continuously mashed his lips together, shaking his head every once in a while.

We reached our door and he unlocked it, pushing it open, making sure I could only walk inside. Slowly, I entered feeling the impending lecture. Probably deserved, but I couldn’t help wonder why he would care.

The door slammed hard behind me. It seemed fitting for what was to come. I watched him place his hand on the white metal door and lower his head. I knew I should say something, to thank him, at least.

“Thank you…for rescuing me,” I sputtered out as I turned toward the kitchen. “Do you want a drink? I mean, that was pretty intense, wasn’t it? And wow, the way you clocked that jerk! That was insane.” I entered the kitchen and reached for two glasses as I continued to ramble, knowing I needed a drink from that horrific attack. “Did you learn all that from when you work out with Z? Down at the boxing place? Maybe I should take a class down there.”

I stretched on my tiptoes and reached in the cabinet for the liquor. I didn’t see any. I opened several more cabinets thinking maybe he moved them and didn’t tell me. There weren’t any. I glanced around the kitchen wondering where else the alcohol could be. That’s when I noticed the recycling bin. There were several liquor bottles in there.

All of them were empty.

Clark appeared in the doorway and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His deadpan expression hinted to what he had done, but I didn’t want to believe it.

I walked over to the fridge, knowing a beer could help instead. I peered in, but didn’t see anything. I shut the fridge and looked down into the bin again. Empty beer bottles were in there too.

My stomach dropped and I began to figure out a way to get more liquor. I knew I might also still have some mini bottles left in my room. I wasn’t sure if he knew about those or not. I glanced back to the bin and noticed those in there too.

Empty also.

Maybe there’d be a way I could sneak out of here to the nearby liquor store and get something. The fact that I’d have to leave the apartment to get something to drink pissed me off. I felt my face get hot and my cheek throbbed with the rush of blood flowing through me.

“What did you do with all the liquor?”

His jaw clenched tight, his eyes turned cold. He shook his head as he spat, “That’s what you care about?”

Quickly, I changed my tone. It wasn’t all I cared about. I’m glad we’re safe and everything. “Well, yeah, I mean, it was a tough night. I’m sure you could use one too. I just…I…”
want to go back to feeling numb.
I didn’t finish my thought out loud. Instead, I felt the walls of the small kitchen begin to close around me. A cold sweat started to hit me and my stomach churned. I rushed passed him, but he caught my arm and swung me around.

“Are you
trying
to kill yourself?” He asked quietly and with an odd sincerity in his voice.

“It was a tough night, we both could use a drink right now.”

“That’s not what I asked. I’m talking about all the guys that you let use you.”

“No. I…” I straightened my posture. He was such a hypocrite. “I was doing the same thing you do. I was just going for sex. It wasn’t my fault the guy had a friend. Of course for a guy, that would have been great to have two women attack you.” It was a lame attempt at reasoning with what happened.

“I have sex with women who aren’t going to hurt me. I make a conscience decision. You’re not even trying to make any type of decision. You’re just letting all of them use you. Again and again. I watched you tonight…”

“You what?” I interrupted him. “You followed me tonight?”

“Yeah. You’ve been coming home drunk every single morning. I needed to know where you went.”

“Why? Why does any of this concern you? You want me going around following you while you get head from some bimbo at Allure?”

“What concerns me is the drinking binge you’ve been on lately. You don’t even care whom you’re with. You’re not even trying to be safe.”

“Don’t. Don’t do this Clark. Don’t try to pretend you care when you really don’t.”

“Oh really? I don’t care? I didn’t hold your fucking head over the toilet just about every single morning this week while you threw up from your drinking binges?”

“I didn’t ask you to!” I yelled. His jaw clenched as he glared at me. “I never asked you to do anything for me.” I walked to the apartment door and grabbed the handle. I had no idea where I was going, but I wasn’t going to stand here while he judged me.

Just as I pulled the door to open, Clark’s hand slammed it shut. “You’re not fucking going anywhere. You can’t just keep running from whatever it is that’s bothering you. You can’t just keep getting drunk every night and fucking any guy that comes along!” He yelled at me and then gripped both my arms tight. “This isn’t you, Aub. I don’t know where the fuck my roommate went, but you’re sure as fuck not her.” He released me with a small shove, probably to get the rest of his anger out. I’ve never seen him so angry before.

I wasn’t doing anything to him.

I stormed to my room and tried to shut the door. Again, Clark’s hand stopped me from going anywhere by myself. Where was I supposed to go to be alone?

“I need you to see a doctor. A therapist. Or
someone
,” he stressed. I rolled my eyes having no idea why he’d want me to see a doctor or therapist. “There’s something wrong, Aub,” he persisted. “Everyone is worried about you. Your best friend just had a miscarriage. Do you even care?”

“What? Of course I care. Who are you to judge how I handle things? Who are you to judge how I live my life? How dare you say that I didn’t even care about Vanessa’s miscarriage!”

I stormed over to the window to look out, at least try to get away from him since I felt trapped.
I don’t care? Of course I care.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and like a child I shook my body until he released his hand. “I’m sorry. That…came out wrong. Of course you care. You just…you aren’t here with us.”

“I’m here. I’m right in front of you!”

“You need to see someone, Aub. Anyone. Or just talk to me. Something. Because what you’re doing—leaving, getting drunk and fucking guys non-stop—it isn’t working.”

I pressed my forehead to the window remembering my thoughts of trying to break the glass. The images I had pictured in my head of how my body would hit the concrete. He’s right. I do need help. I can’t keep doing this. I rolled my head to the side to peer at him.

“All right.” I exhaled a deep breath. “I’ll see someone,” I gave in. I watched him let out his own breath. As if he really did want me to get help and get better. He pulled me in for a hug and as his strong arms wrapped around me, I began to realize he might actually care.

******

I opened the door to our apartment holding the bag for my new prescriptions in my hand. Two bottles of pills. One pill was to be taken for only two weeks just to help wean me off the alcohol and it was also supposed to help me with my anxiety. The other pill was more for long-term use and I still wasn’t sure I wanted to be on drugs all the time.

I didn’t bother seeing some psychiatrist or therapist. I don’t feel like a crazy person, so I just thought seeing my regular doctor would help. She understood what I was going through with the breakup of Gregory and Vanessa’s miscarriage. I hadn’t told her about my uncle. For what? She’d probably just tell me to see a therapist. I’ve been to therapy before. While it helped for a little while, the relief had been short term.

I walked into my bedroom and plopped down on my bed. After I removed my shoes, I tore open the pharmacy bag. The contents in these little orange bottles were supposed to help me. I was going to make an effort seeing as Clark was so serious about it. He was right though, Vanessa needed me and I wanted to be there for her. If these things could help with the nightmares, maybe make them go away, I could swallow them down in order to become a better person for my friend.

I popped the one that I was supposed to start taking immediately into my mouth and swallowed it. I sent a text to Vanessa to see if she wanted company for a little while. I was more than thrilled when she told me to come over and hang out with her.

The relief on Matt’s face told me everything. I hate to see how upset they both have been over her miscarriage. He patted my shoulder as he started to leave. Vanessa sat on the couch; her eyes were swollen and red from crying. I lifted her feet as I took my seat on the couch and plopped her legs on top of mine. The TV played some infomercial.

“There’s nothing really on.” She sighed as her tears welled up again. I nodded knowing it was more that she just didn’t care what was on.

“I don’t suppose you feel like working out?” I lilted, hoping to maybe just get her out for a walk. It would probably do us both some good.

She gave me a sad smile. “Is there ever a time where you won’t try to get me to workout?” I shook my head, glad that I could at least garner a smile from her.

Just seeing her face with a tinge of happiness gave me hope that both of us would be alright. Knowing that I could do that with just a small joke made me feel like I could finally be the friend again that Vanessa deserved.

“Well, I’ll let you off the hook this one night.” I stood up and walked over to where the movies were. Knowing I left my old copy because it was our favorite movie, I popped
Beaches
into the DVD player. We were already crying, so a best friend tearjerker was more than required. I pulled her legs back on my lap when I sat down.

Velvet smooth hands grasped mine with a small squeeze causing tears in my eyes. All I could do was smile back at her and nod when she whispered, “Thanks.”

I exhaled knowing things would be better from here on out. I hope.

******

Little did I know that only a couple of days later, my world would come crashing down around me.

The phone I held in my hand was now a black screen. All I could do was stare at it. One simple phone call from my mom now spun my world out of control as I repeated the words she said to me. 

Uncle Chad.

Heart Attack.

For a brief moment, I felt as if I could breathe again. Uncle Chad’s death wasn’t something she wanted. He was her brother, after all. But the news brought me complete and total relief. My nightmare was now over. My secret could die with him and I’d never have to feel pain because of him again. 

Then my father had clicked onto the phone line.

“Aubrey. Baby, I have something more to tell you about his death.” My mom was in the background and I could hear her pleading with him not to say anything else. The following words rushed at me like a freight train, hitting me in my gut and knocking me forward, gasping for the air that I had just enjoyed from my brief relief. “He…honey, when your Uncle was found, he was raping a sixteen-year-old girl. I…we, thought you should know that before you hear it from someone else.”

Oh God.

Bile rose in my throat as tears started rolling uncontrollably down my cheek. These tears weren’t for Uncle Chad though. These tears were for the girl he’d raped. “On top of a sixteen-year-old girl.”
Just like me.
I’d been sixteen when he’d first touched me, when he’d first put his hands all over me. And then he’d raped me over and over again. When he told me how he would teach me how to really be a woman every man wants.

The flashbacks hit me hard. The father/daughter dance that he took me to because Dad was out of town, him always being ‘there’ for me. As if he were helping me when all the time…I squeezed my eyes tight, hoping to push everything away.

I glanced over to my nightstand and stared at the two bottles of pills the doctor had given me just the other day; my “Happy pills” to calm my nerves instead of alcohol. I picked up the bottle and held it in my hand, squeezing it tight in my hand for the help I craved.

From the corner of my eye, I could see my purse nearby on the floor. The gold bottle cap peeked out just at the tip of the leather. I ran into one of my old distributors the other day and he gave me a bottle of Jack. I was too embarrassed to tell him no. It was a sweet gesture from him and I had stuffed it in my bag, promising myself I’d get rid of it later. Obviously, I hadn’t. Bad move on my part.

The battle ensued within me of which would make me feel better. Pills or Jack? Would either take away the guilt of not standing up sooner? Of being such a fucking coward against my mom when I first told her. She’d insisted that I was being dramatic, that her brother would never do something like that to anyone, that I was a liar. How dare I say such a thing? But maybe if I’d stood up to her and insisted I wasn’t just being dramatic, it wouldn’t have happened to this other girl. Or God—
girls
. What if there’d been more?