Page 24 of Where We Promise

I smiled, unable to help myself.

“From what I’ve observed, Natty seems to belong to herself. In fact, she seems perfectly content here, without you.”

His fingers twitched as if he wanted to throw a punch.

But his lips twisted to the side. “When you can protect yours, you can say shit about mine. But rumor has it, Luke’s old lady is in your care, but your members nearly ran her over. You’re a pathetic leader, Jameson. The king of chaos has toppled from his throne and now he’s relying on the Stone Riders for scraps of safety. Watch who you’re speaking to and stay the fuck away from what’s mine.”

With that, he turned and straddled his bike, keeping that cold glare on me the entire time. With a rev of his engine, he took off, spraying gravel as he went.

Fuck him. Fuck this place and fuck Luke for putting us through this shit.

I turned back toward the house, needing to see Pen. I’d given her some time to process outside of the cabin. I’d had time to form a plan. Now I needed to see her.

I needed to run this marriage idea by her.

Or fuck…maybe I should just toss a ring at her and tell her to put it on and inform her we were getting married. I had to keep her safe, and if this would do it then saying no wasn’t an option. But even as I thought it, my stomach tilted.

Penelope and I had a complicated past.

One full of unspoken truths, missed chances, and stolen moments.

I’d hurt her. She had hurt me.

It was fate’s twisted sense of humor that we were now thrown together in some odd, domesticated role.

The irony was cruel.

SEVEN

PENELOPE

AGE SIXTEEN

I shoved the back door open and tucked away my cell while scaling the three steps from where the porch led to our yard. My boots sunk into the wet grass, still glistening from the water that had been on earlier.

Miles mowed it, preferring to keep it short, and Mom was always out here ensuring it remained green. As the years passed, the two of them seemed to fall into a bit of a partnership that I hadn’t expected.

Jameson was right, Miles was good to us. He never looked at me in any other way than an extra mouth to feed. He avoided me most the time, but when he was around, he was nice enough. He seemed to like my mother. He lit up when she walked into a room, and I’d had to purchase ear plugs because our rooms shared a wall.

It was weird that we’d finally seemed to find a place to stay, but I was still too nervous to voice any of my thoughts, so I had continued the tradition of finding wildflowers and pressing them into my journal with a wish.

Please let us stay.

Please let us be happy.

Tonight, there was supposed to be a big bonfire happening at the old distillery. Mom knew I was going, but out of respect for Miles and his early bedtime rule, I exited through the back instead of the front.

I heard the loud music from the Chaos Kings clubhouse, just a few driveways down and pushed on in the opposite direction.

Recently I craved space from the club, or more specifically, the two boys who seemed to constantly draw me into bullshit trouble I never wanted to be in to begin with. Stealing cars no one could prove they’d stolen. Taking apart the principal’s car and putting it back together in the school gymnasium, while planting evidence that it was the football team who’d done it.

Chaos.

One day Luke had kidnapped the assistance principal’s dog, brought it to school and let it loose in the hallways. While the teachers were busy trying to run after it, Luke and Jamie had snuck into the science wing and stolen several chemicals that had arrived overnight. I was always the one on lookout, and I hated it. Mostly because I didn’t like the risk of getting in trouble. They had the protection of the club and their fathers. Jameson’s dad, being the president of the club, and Luke’s the vice president. They’d get a gentle slap on the wrist if anything, but I’d get expelled. No one from the club had my back, not even Miles.

Not if it would pit him against his club in any way.

Then there was the confusion over Luke and Jamie’s friendship. They worked independently, almost as if they both had roles to play and each one knew exactly what was expected of them. They didn’t joke or laugh together. They didn’t act like friends.

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