Warning Signs (Broken Promises #2) (10 page)

BOOK: Warning Signs (Broken Promises #2)
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“Bea, hold that thought.”

I heard something hit my window. Turning to look at it with fear in my eyes, I went to the window in my bedroom and saw Splinter down below the fire escape, smiling in the dark.

“I’ve always wanted to sneak up a girl’s fire escape.”

“No need to sneak. Get your ass up here.” I hung up the phone. When he made it through the window, I wrapped my arms around him and I refused to let go. Soon enough we had moved from the window to my bed, and as I kissed him he took off my clothes, and I took off his. Sex never meant much to me before. But tonight I was as good as dead, and I was having sex with someone I loved. It meant something more than it ever had to me before. I didn’t hold back, and neither did he. When we finally decided we were exhausted, we collapsed into the comfort of my bed and snuggled up together.

“How is this part so easy when the rest of it is so complicated?” I asked Splinter. Then I heard a soft snore, and I knew he had fallen asleep with me securely in his arms. I decided I should do the same, since I didn’t know when I’d get to do it again.

Because even though I loved him and was with him tonight, I didn’t know if I’d feel the same in the morning.

When we woke up, we caressed one another in place of speaking. I was afraid to speak, so caressing his arm seemed better than telling him what was on my mind. He was playing with my hair while my head rested on his chest, and the one thing that made us separate was our phones ringing. When I answered mine, it was Ben.

“You need to start packing. You’ll leave tomorrow,” he told me.

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“You still want to go, right?”

I looked back to see Splinter’s back facing me as he was hunched over, talking to someone on his phone. “Yeah. I still want to go.”

“Okay, good. Oh, have you heard from Splinter?”

My insides leaped, and I bit my lip.

“I talked to him, but I haven’t seen him.”

“Okay, I hope he doesn’t screw up this meeting I arranged for him.”

“What meeting?”

“A meeting with Eden Sank’s home label. He might get a band centered around him.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah. He needs to answer his phone.”

“Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up, and Splinter hung up his phone as well. He looked at me with regret, and I couldn’t bother hiding my emotions from my face.

“Was that them?” I asked. He couldn’t hide the truth from me. Especially when it was written clear across his face.

“You should go.”

“If I go, should I be waiting for you?”

His question hit me hard.

“I can’t tell you to wait for me or not.”

“Yes you can. When you come back, will you want to be with me? Despite the band and the insecurity you feel?”

I looked away and avoided the question. “You should go. It’s up to you if you wait for me or not.”

Frustrated, he was quick to leave. I wish I could have told him to wait for me, but I didn’t know who I’d be once I returned. I couldn’t promise I’d come back for him if I’d return an entirely different person. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up like I had one too many times. Because when you fall from keeping your hopes up too high, the landing isn’t so sweet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

I flew from JFK International Airport in New York City to Edinburgh. It was a thirteen-hour flight with only one stop. At one point in an attempt to have fun, I did a cartwheel in the airport terminal for a Vine while we were waiting to transfer planes, and one of the tired and easily amused flyers was happy to take the video without asking questions. It was the first real post I had made since I had rejoined social media, especially after the flurry of news surrounding my near-death by fire. Needless to say, my life was now a spectacle. Everyone enjoyed watching it unfold except for me.

When I arrived in Edinburgh, I was picked up by one of my cousins. I didn’t even know I had a cousin, but when we met he hugged me very gently before leading me to his tiny car. And when I say tiny, I
mean
tiny. We drove miles before reaching the farm that my grandparents had, or rather, my grandmother had. Men had the tendency to die young in our family. At least that’s what I was beginning to notice. When I was left to myself to be introduced to my grandmother, who preferred being called Vevila, I was unsure of how to react to her presence. She was small and petite. Her eyes were so dark brown they were almost black, and they were sharp and beady. Her features were harsh, mainly because she seemed angry all of the time.

“Brenna?” she said, looking up at me. Her features slowly softened.

“I go by Bea now,” I said.

She said something in Gaelic that sounded like it was meant to be insulting, and as she walked back into the large house she began to rant in this foreign language. I followed her and shut the door, leaving my bags at the threshold and wondering when she’d go back to speaking English. I knew no matter how long I’d stay, I’d never be here long enough to learn a new language.

When she had finally settled down, I sat at a wooden farm table and watch her put one too many steaming pots on the table with a strength that surprised me.

“Start smashing the potatoes.” She handed me a masher, or as she called it, a “smasher,” and I began “smashing” the potatoes just like she asked.

Whatever chore she had for me to do, I didn’t ask questions or complain. I did it because I
feared her. She seemed mean enough to rip me in two if I showed any weakness. Once dinner was done and the table was set, she asked me to go call out to the farm workers.

“How many of them are there?” I asked her.

“One too many in my opinion. Invite them in. It’s time they ate.”

I went outside and rang a bell that told the farm workers it was dinnertime. Each man walked in, and it was apparent they were hungry as they filled their plates. Some of them laughed and talked in Gaelic while Vevila and I stayed in the back of the kitchen, making sure they had whatever they needed.

“Who is the new girl, Vevila?” one older man asked.

“My granddaughter. Don’t get any funny ideas, John.”

I smirked, and when she saw it she smacked my hand with a spoon.

“Brenna, come with me.”

“Um, I go by Bea.”

“Whatever the hell your name is, come with me.”

The men laughed and called after us as I followed Vevila upstairs and watched her open up a room for me.

“You’ll sleep here. We wake up at 5’o clock every morning to make sure the workers have breakfast and coffee before they start work. By 7’o clock in the morning we take a break, clean up, and eat what’s left. At noon the boys go to town, and so will we. When we come back we will be working in the garden until three, when I will take my nap. You may want one as well. I have very simple rules. Don’t screw around with my workers and get them distracted. Don’t go around town trying to get someone in between your legs. I don’t want to hear you cry about it. No sex in this house unless you’re married.”

So I guess I was going to be celibate through this trip.

“And no drinking, no drugs, none of that big city shit.”

“I was never into any of that stuff, Vevila.”

“Good. You remind me of your mother. She always said you were like Brennan, but I don’t see how she got that idea. I hope you can show me she’s right. Goodnight.”

“What about dinner?”

“You ate at the airport before coming over?”

“Yes, but—”

“That’s dinner. Goodnight.”

She left me with that, and I fell into my lumpy bed and slept as if I was resting on a rock the entire night. When the next morning came, I woke up at the time Vevila had told me to (even with the terrible jetlag) and went downstairs in my pajamas and a cotton robe. I began helping Vevila by prepping the coffee pot and by making sure the coffee cakes in the oven didn’t burn. I didn’t know how old Vevila was, and I didn’t want to ask. All I knew was that no matter how old she was, it was still surprising she was able to do all she did by herself. Even with me here to help her, I didn’t think she’d let anyone else help her on a normal day.

When the men came in with bleary eyes and their boys still asleep on their shoulders, a few of them asked me to watch the boys while they slept.

“Sure,” I replied. I remembered each boy’s name and age as I helped arrange them comfortably in the sitting room and covered them all with blankets while I grabbed what was left of the coffee and coffee cakes. I ate my fair share and watched the boys contently.

When they began waking up, I smiled and waved at all of them. I was happy to know they all spoke English, because I didn’t know how to gain their trust without knowing Gaelic if that was all they spoke.

“Most parents don’t teach their children Gaelic anymore. It’s a dying language,” Vevila told me after they had gone out to play in the yard.

“When did people stop passing down the language?”

“It depends on who you ask.”

I looked at her and smiled. “I’m beginning to like you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why not? We’re quite a bit alike.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“I do that exactly how you did. All of the time. Ben hates it.”

I swore I saw a smile creep up on her face.

At noon we all went to town to pick up various supplies. Vevila picked up fresh herbs and ingredients for the day, and then I swore everyone who saw me stopped Vevila to ask about me. She would always shoo them away, and I would smile. For once I was untouchable, and I was enjoying it.

When we returned home we cooked lunch, and once we were done we went outside to do the gardening. I hadn’t gardened in my entire life, so Vevila had to be extra patient with me. She taught me quite a bit in a few short hours. When the time had come for her nap, she left me to my own devices. I wasn’t exactly tired, but there was nothing for me to do. I kept checking my phone and posted a few picture updates to Instagram to show everyone what I had seen today. Even though I wasn’t exactly in Edinburgh, the village was beautiful.

Once the day came to a close, I found myself forming a routine. After a week had passed Vevila began warming up to me, and we were able to act like family instead of uncertain strangers. On weekends we had a lot of free time and I found myself in the herb garden tending to the plants she kept, and I also found myself cooking more than anything I could have dreamed of back home. Vevila was a true Susie Homemaker, and while I wasn’t sure I wanted that, it seemed to suit her well. She told me she had five sons who each had two children after they married. Each one had died young.

There was Phillip, who was the oldest; Grant, the second oldest in the line of Morrisons; and then there was Damascus, the dreaded middle child (with what Vevila admitted was a dreadful name to boot); my dad, Brennan; and then the youngest, James.

James died at 26 before my father, who died at 30. Phillip had a heart attack that took his life at 35. Grant was in a work-related accident that took his life at 45. Damascus committed suicide when he was 19 and was facing the possibility of going to war. Everyone seemed to have had a good life (except Damascus, who only had children through wedlock, which earned him a hard life thanks to Vevila). I couldn’t understand how a whole family of brothers could die so suddenly. While none of it was related, it was still strange. I didn’t say much after that, because Vevila wanted her nap.

Vevila and I had a lot of good talks, and one thing she had told me made me realize I was ready to go home.

“You are your father’s daughter. Do not fear love. Embrace it. Accept it. You deserve it, my darling granddaughter. When love presents itself, don’t settle. Find the man whom you love the most, and make sure he knows you love him. Because if he doesn’t he will find someone else who will.”

I hugged her and called Ben that night to let him know that after a month and a half, I was ready to come home. Whatever Vevila knew about my life and me as a person, she knew enough to say the right words to soothe my soul. I knew what I needed to do now. I needed to let go of the fear and go on the road with Splinter. It may not be exactly what I wanted, but it meant he could live his dream, and I could be with him. I needed that more than anything.

Thirteen hours and one stop later, I was back in New York. I was more than ready to profess my true feelings to Splinter when I saw him, except I never did. He was off signing the deal for his new job. I was happy, but now the fear had set in.

“He’ll be back. Do you want to go back to your apartment?”

“Yeah, I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“Sounds like it. You need sleep.”

Ben took me back to my apartment, and as soon as I opened the door and flipped on the lights fear struck again within me. Sticky notes and pictures were strewn across my walls and floors, and they all had one thing in common: me and Lia. Lia had been here. She had been in my apartment, and she had destroyed it with all the notes. Suddenly, all the progress I felt I had made went down the drain.

I tore down every piece of evidence that she had ever been here and destroyed it. When Ben came back up and saw me in distress, he couldn’t help but worry.

“What’s going on?” he asked me.

“I can’t.” I was shaking terribly at the thought of telling him what had happened. But despite trying to destroy the evidence, I lacked a paper shredder and my trash was overflowing with the notes and pictures Lia had left behind. When Ben caught sight of them, he didn’t hold back.

“You shouldn’t stay,” he warned.

I didn’t want her to be here, and I was more than happy to take safety in his place. After turning on my phone, I was finally able to see all the texts she had sent me, I was shocked to see how hostile she had become towards me. I wanted to stay the hell away from her. I couldn’t help but cry, and I wanted everything to be like it was in Scotland—normal, mundane and happy.

But it was obvious she wouldn’t allow things to be as peachy keen. I knew I would never get that while I was here. However, I knew how to make a start. I went into the police station that was listed on the card I was given after being rescued from my kidnapping and attempted murder. When I saw William I felt wrapped in warmth and security.

“Bea, what are you doing here?” he asked from pure surprise.

“I need your help.” I dumped all the letters, sticky-notes, and pictures Lia had left in my apartment and told him everything. How she stalked me, harassed me, and how I was afraid of being alone.

“I don’t feel safe. I want to stay with my brother, but I don’t think that’d help much. I want to be able to sleep in my own bed without fear of someone trying to hurt me,” I admitted with a heavy heart.

“How about I post watch duty at your apartment to make sure you stay safe? Surely there’s someone who—”

“I want you.” I was quick to say it before he even finished his suggestion.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

After a short conversation with his boss, he was following me to my apartment where he stayed up all night keeping watch while I slept.

He did this so often I began making breakfast for him. It was almost as if he lived with me. I had nearly forgotten about Splinter until I found myself sharing a bed with William. We didn’t have sex, because I wasn’t ready. We slept close to one another, and I began to wonder what I was going to do about Splinter. When I left I was so sure about him. Now William was all I needed.

This created such a conflict, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to handle it. Though William was safe and could easily protect me, Splinter was the person I wanted. But even if he was the one I wanted, he wasn’t safe; he wasn’t secure. For all I knew he never would be those things, and a part of me wanted those things still, despite everything I had learned in Scotland. Vevila taught me so much about the art of being carefree without being completely careless and about loving someone despite the fear of losing control. All of her stories about her life before my grandfather and even the stories that came after him proved to me that sometimes the fear was something that motivated people to do extraordinary things. If you were able to get past the feeling of your heart trying to beat its way violently out of your chest, then you could say you were invincible. I wanted to say I was invincible and that the fear didn’t control me, but when I looked at William, who was sleeping so soundly, I wondered if I could have this life with Splinter.

BOOK: Warning Signs (Broken Promises #2)
11.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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