Page 71 of Where We Promise

The sun was cutting through the parted shades at the balcony, the warm ray caressing me where I lay on the bed. The side where Jamie was asleep last night was empty, in his place were a few wildflowers and a note. I snagged the small paper from the pillow.

I’ll be back later; the honeymoon was the perfect cover for checking in on the men who stayed behind in Richland. While I’m gone, feel free to use these on some new maternity clothes or baby clothes, anything you want. - J

Tucked inside an envelope were two plastic cards, one was a debit card, and the other a credit card. A pin was written down for the debit card, and while I knew in reality, I would have had to be present to open these accounts, I also knew how motorcycle clubs worked, when they didn’t follow any rules. I tilted the cards and saw my name on the bottom.

Penelope King.

A flutter of excitement climbed my chest at the sight of my new legal name in print. He’d given me access to his bank account? Not even Luke had ever done that, not even when we were living together. He’d hand me cash if I needed something but never a card, never anything that would link us like this.

Legally I owned half of anything Jamie did, and based off the room and the black Amex, he seemed to be doing okay for himself. I hadn’t signed a prenup, but if he decided to annul the wedding, then I just wouldn’t have access anymore, but I wouldn’t have to pay anything back.

Could I spend his money?

No.

Especially not after telling me this honeymoon was just a cover for him to sneak back into his territory. It shouldn’t matter, and I hated that it hurt. Of course he had ulterior plans when he’d booked this. While it was still sweet that he’d done this for me, it burned that it was strung together with cords connected to the Chaos Kings.

But, on the other hand, I hadn’t had any money in so long, not since I lost my job in Richland at the club. I bit my lip, thinking over how nice it would be to have something nice to wear, a new pair of jeans, or a shirt that actually covered my stomach the way a maternity shirt should. It was more than that though, using his money made me feel connected to him.

With determination, I climbed out of bed and started getting ready.

The suite was beautiful and relaxing. The balcony overlooked the entire city and beyond to where the ocean brushed up against the cliffs. I drank my decaffeinated coffee on the sun-soaked balcony while the cold December air brushed strands of hair off my neck and face, forcing my eyes to close. I wanted to freeze time and live in that exact moment. One where I wasn’t afraid, or an inconvenience. One where I wasn’t grieving the loss of my mom, or the loss of Luke…or the thought of what could have been.

I was just me, and now, for as long as I had him, I was Jamie’s.

Even if he didn’t want me.

Last night came rushing back, the way he’d toyed with me. Worked me up and then just fell asleep before anything happened. I wanted to yell at him, but he had looked so peaceful lying there in his soft sweats and tank top. In our bed, where I would sleep too. I worried if I woke him, he’d go to the couch and leave me all alone.

So I ate my food in silence and then set the tray on the dresser before curling under the covers next to him.

Maybe tonight I could bring that playful side of him out again. That feral hungry side…perhaps if I bought more lingerie.

At first, I worried I’d have to get an Uber or walk to the shops, but Kenny was waiting for me when I strode into the lobby.

“Mrs. King, good morning!”

“Morning.” I smiled kindly at him, noting the small nick on his jaw from shaving. He was likely nineteen or twenty, but still had his boyish features.

“Your husband informed me that I’m to drive you anywhere you want to go today. All gratuity and fees have been covered. I will happily take you to a few maternity shops as well as a great lunch spot.”

I resisted the urge to let the small consideration Jameson had made for me sink into my chest. This was an arrangement, nothing more.

It was nearly five when I finally stepped back into the hotel room, shopping bags in hand with a resigned smile on my face. I had plans to order room service, take another bath and then lounge on the balcony while reading through some labor and delivery material. The worry over not being prepared was starting to creep up on me.

The constant questions burrowing in my mind over whether or not I would keep living in the cabin or how long Jamie would want to keep up the farce.

How was I going to survive as a single mom?

The questions washed over me and began clouding my head as I set the bags down. I had purchased nursing bras, gowns and pajamas. Along with a few loose things I could easily slip into after the birth. I hadn’t gained much weight, but I had read that after the birth, all the weight distributed oddly, and it would be difficult to fit back into my jeans.

I’d even grabbed a new pair of walking shoes that weren’t too pricey. I had shopped at the outlet stores across town, far away from the luxury stores down the main strip of town. I had no need for designer clothes, and I could care less if my diaper bag was a popular brand. I just wanted my things to be functional.

My mom’s voice came back to me, nearly making a sob creep up my throat as I remembered picking out clothes with her in Walmart growing up.

Functional, Penny, but we can be fashionable too. Never pass up the chance for lace or leather, or especially leopard print.

Sliding into the tub, watching how the streaks of sunset began to cast a golden glow in the bathroom, I sunk down and began to cry. My mom had raised me without anyone. She’d kept me safe in a world that would have essentially made it impossible. I had never asked her why we continued to move from one club to another. I had never asked why she didn’t just break away from them all together, but part of me had pieced together that she had found a sense of safety in them. In their codes and laws.

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