For Her (Broken Promises #2) (6 page)

He gently places a kiss on the top of my head, making a small smile come to my lips, then wraps his arms around me a little tighter than before as we both stare at the TV, neither of us paying any attention to what’s playing. That’s the last thing I remember until waking up in the morning to an empty bed, sun shining in through the open blinds.

Braydon

I feel like such a dick. I shouldn’t have done that earlier, but sitting here in bed with her now, her gentle snores on my shoulder, make me realize what I did wasn’t all that bad. No, I can’t have her, but that doesn’t mean that kissing her was wrong. She’s just so damn beautiful, ever since the accident her light has been out. I need to bring that back, maybe I thought kissing her would bring it back.

And it did. Only for a moment, but it did.

Waiting on her discharge paperwork, I head downstairs to call the bar.

“Been long enough, man,” Gabe chuckles after I fill him in on last night. I feel like a damn teenage chick with all these emotions, but I can’t help it. I’ve never had anything this complex running through my mind, I don’t know what to do with it. Typically Gabe’s good with shit like this, but today he can’t stop laughing at me. “Dude you’ve wanted her forever. It’s not like Sheridan’s coming back to haunt you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you; it’s not like she hasn’t had those thoughts in her mind as well.” He chuckles again, making me want to reach through the phone and choke the noise out of him.

Jerk.

“Yea, anyway… that shit isn’t happening. I’m taking the day to drive her to Santa Barbara. I won’t be in tonight, but I’ll open in the morning for ya. Take a couple days off dude, I’ll have nothing else to do but sit at that lonely place.” I sigh, knowing full well how boring life is going to be without her here.

“Santa Barbara?!”

“Yes, dude. Fucking two hours away and I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“The fuck is there that she can’t get here?”

“Her parents,” I grumble, smiling as they park the car in front of the entrance for her. “I gotta go man.”

“Hey wait!” I stop short, letting him get his last word in. “You plan on doing this, Bray? You’re serious about all this?”

“About what?” I growl, not liking the tone of his voice.

“Helping out. Being there for her. Two hours one way is a long ass drive just to hang out with a friend,” he scoffs.

“I’m not just… she’s not… Fucker, I’m doing it for her, okay? She’s Alexis, and I need her just about as bad as she needs a friend. Shut the fuck up and take a few days off. I’ll call you in the morning.” I hit end harder than I probably had to, but he pissed me off.

I’m fuming at Gabe’s comment and insinuation that I shouldn’t be helping Al, but the moment I see them wheeling her to the doors all anger melts away. She looks so small and frail. She’s always been pretty fit, but ever since she got in the accident and has been in the hospital she hasn’t been eating well. She’s lost probably ten pounds just from lack of nutrition. I know she’s eating, but she’s eating bare minimum just to keep the nurses happy. I just hope that living here with her parents and far away from everything she’s grown to know and love is going to make her whole again.

I know I could do it if she’d give me the chance, but I’m going along with this because she’s dead set on not depending on me. For some reason, she seems to think that I wouldn’t like having her live with me. She’s fucking wrong, she has never been more wrong, but I can’t tell her that. She just needs to see that I’m not planning on giving up. She needs me, she knows it, she’s just stubborn.

Half way through the drive she sighs and lays her head back, closing her eyes. When she speaks, it sounds like she’s in a whole different world.

“You remember that time the three of us went to the coast at sunset? And the beach we were on closed at sunset, and the patrol chased us down and threatened to call our parents?” She smiles, eyes still closed probably recalling that night. She’s smiling, her hair resting on the top of her head and her glasses she only wears when her contacts are bothering her, resting gently on her cute as fuck nose.

Jesus I feel like I’m letting her go today. I feel like this is it, but I’ll play her game. Bringing back memories of him… of the three of us… before life took away everything we knew and loved… it hurts. It hurts, it sucks, but she’s talking. I want to keep her talking.

I have to.

“Yea.” I chuckle, recalling the look on her face when they threatened taking us into the station. Lane and I knew the guys, we knew they were just messing with us, but they caught on immediately and played on to her horror. “You were so damn scared,” I say laughing. I nudge her side when she doesn’t laugh, when her hand clasps on to mine I glance over at her and notice she’s not smiling. Instead, there’s a tear running down her cheek, I curse to myself. Maybe this move will be good for her. Maybe getting away from the memories for a while will help her cope and accept things better. God, I don’t know, but seeing her hurt from what once was a happy memory is heart shattering.

“We’re never going to have times like that again, Bray.” She takes a deep breath and runs her fingertips under her puffy eyes, drying the spilled tears. “I want to get over it… I want to stop crying… but then I think about times like that I get so sad. Sad that I’m never going to have that type of happy again.”

“You’re not dea-”  I stop myself, realizing what I’m about to say and notice her hand tighten around mine.

“I know. I’m not dead. You can say it, it’s not a lie. I’m alive, and I’m having to learn to cope with… with all of this.” She motions to her leg and rests her hand on her knee, right above where they had to cut her out of the car. “I can’t do that in LA, with all the memories we had there. I can’t do that with the knowing stares, the fake sympathy from people that barely knew us. I’m sorry. Maybe someday I’ll be able to move back, but right now I need to find myself and I can’t do that there.”

And that’s just it. I don’t want her to go, but I’m not the selfish prick that most chicks in the area put me off to be. I don’t want her to be sad, for her I’m not fighting this move. I’ll just have to work ten times harder to make her accept that I’m not going anywhere.

“I know, Al. Don’t think this move is going to keep me away, though. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” I bring her hands to my lips, something I probably shouldn’t do, but I see her relax as soon as my lips touch her skin. I smile to myself, knowing that in some way she’s completely okay with this.

Whatever this is.

Making it to her parents’ house around lunch time, I spend time helping to get her settled into her room, her parents offer to have me stay for dinner before heading back. We spend the day sitting around the house, talking about Alexis as a child and learning things about her she’s never let on to with us. Like the fact that she sucked her thumb until she was in third grade or the fact that she threw up all over her kindergarten teacher the first day of school. I was also informed that no matter what she’s tried telling us in the past, her High School years were anything but innocent. Getting caught on the roof of the gym the night before graduation, drunk off her ass with the rest of the soccer team, makes me wonder just how much of this life she left behind to start over in LA and how much else she’s kept from us. Not saying it upset me, it’s actually nice to spend time with her family. Hell, up until a year ago I didn’t even think she had any family. When they came to visit for the first time that I can remember, they were kind and polite, but she seemed almost like she didn’t want them there. Now I see it as her wanting to keep her two lives separate, I completely respect that. I don’t tend to talk much about my upbringing for multiple reasons.

By the time the sun starts to set, Al’s parents have settled into the living room and she’s sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me to come out of the bathroom. We had dinner, we laughed and talked about the past, but not once have we talked about what the future holds. Opening the bathroom door, I pause and watch her. She’s staring at her leg, moving her hand over her knee, gently feeling where her leg now ends. She brought home a prosthetic to use until her custom one comes in, but she refuses to use it unless she absolutely has to because the wound is still healing and she doesn’t like the pain it causes. She doesn’t talk much about it, but I know she’s hurting from all the change she’s had to go through recently. She sighs heavily, her hand resting on her knee, I clear my throat before I start to tear up from hurting for her. I hate that she isn’t talking about it to anyone. I hate that she’s holding this shit in. I hate that I can’t help her more than I’m trying to.

“Hey,” I say, walking up to her and resting my hand on her shoulder, needing to touch her somehow. “I’ve got to get heading back. Gabe’s taking a couple days off and I’ve gotta run the bar.” I see the way she looks at me, like I’ve just killed her hope she had of me being here for her, but I stomp it down quickly. “I’ll see you in three days, Al. I think you can live without me for that long.” Grinning, I wink and help her up. “Come on, walk me to the car.”

She sighs and grabs her crutches, slowly following me to the door after I tell her parents goodbye. It might be rude of me making her get up and move this much, but she needs to keep moving. She needs to get used to her new way of life if she’s ever going to be comfortable enough to move back to LA again.

“Thanks for everything, Brayd-” she starts as soon as the door clicks behind her and we’re alone on the porch, but I don’t let her finish. I slam my lips to hers, pushing back the feeling that this is a goodbye kiss, and hold her hip with my hand, gently pulling back, resting my forehead on hers while she sighs.

“God, Braydon.” She sighs again and shakes her head, bringing her hand to rest on my arm. That one touch tells me everything I need to know.

“I feel it too, Al. I don’t know what the hell to do about it, either, other than be with you and help you get back to normal any way I can.”

“I’d tell you that it’s not needed and that I’ll be fine, but I know you’ll just yell at me for it.” She grins and shrugs. “So I guess I’ll just say… thanks. For everything.” She takes a deep breath and I see the nerves rolling through her.

“It’s not wrong, Al. Whatever this is.”

“I know. I just… it’s so soon, Bray,” she whispers then looks back at the door. “I should probably get inside.” She smiles and nods gently at me, I take that as an invitation to get on the road. After a small hug, I get in the car and drive away, watching her in the rearview mirror until I can’t see her anymore. Until I’m so far away that all I see are the bushes in front of her parent’s house.

Driving away from the one thing that makes me happy anymore. Back to a life of women, music, and alcohol. Walking into my building feels surreal. I haven’t slept here since the accident. I’ve been in once to get clothes, but I went as fast as humanly possible so I didn’t think about the empty apartment below me.

This time, though… this time I don’t speed past it. I make it a point to stop on his floor. To look at his door. Then, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I take the extra key he gave me when I moved in and open the door.

Just walk in. It’s not going to change anything. Just walk in the fucking apartment, chicken shit.

I can’t, though. With the door swung open, I see the darkness… I see the light that was left on shining from their bedroom… but I can’t walk in. Goddamnit.

Why can’t I just go inside?

I’m not sure how long I stand there, but when I hear my phone ding I’m brought out of my trance. Sighing, slamming the door and locking it, I pull my cell out of my pocket while marching up the stairs to my place, two at time, unable to get away from his door fast enough.

AL
: Did you make it home safe?

I smile to myself as I reply.

ME
: Home and locked in safely. Goodnight, Al.

I turn off my phone before seeing if she sends a reply. I can’t think about her right now. I’m home. I have a stack of mail and emails out the ass waiting for me. It’s ten at night, all I want to do is sleep.

Who am I kidding? All I really want to do is turn the phone back on and see if she texted back. Better yet, see if she’d answer if I called. I’ve heard her voice so much lately that the quiet drone of my ice maker buzzing in my ears is depressing. Is this how I really live? Alone, in an apartment building with no other tenants, because my best friend thought it’d be cool to own the entire thing? Fuck, when did things become so cloudy?

I need sleep. I need to go to sleep, get up in the morning, hit the gym then head to the bar.

That all sounds like a great plan.

But here I lay. Three in the fucking morning, wide awake, because I can’t stop worrying if she’s ok. I can’t stop worrying if the bar’s going under. I don’t want to check my email, because I don’t want to see the slew of angry emails from my band-mates. I’d rather just sleep, but I can’t even do that.