Page 1 of No Broken Promises

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REMY

Dear Parker…

I don’t know how to start this letter, or if I should even be writing you one. You just lost your husband, and I… lost one of my best friends. I don’t think any of us will know what’s the right thing to do. Not for a long time. What I know is that I can’t imagine the pain you must be feeling. Knowing Danny won’t be there for the birth of your son. Or his son’s first day of school. Or any of those things that you’ve dreamed of since you were a little girl.

I can’t make this right, and I know me writing to tell you that is practically useless.

But I’m here.

“Fuck.”

Tearing up the weather-worn letter I’ve been working on for a month and a half in the middle of the desert during my deployment suddenly seems like a great idea. Until I glance over my shoulder to see Lincoln Hayes, my best friend, staring out at the desert with a defeated expression on his face. Like the entire world is gone. For him, though, it practically is.

“Fuck,” I mutter once more.

Rather than tear up the letter I can’t even bring myself to finish, I fold it into the same tight square as before and slip it back into the pocket over my left breast, closing my eyes briefly as its negligible weight returns to my chest. Suddenly, I feel like I can breathe again.

“One more month, Remy. One more month.” Linc’s voice hits me like a freight train. Since the accident, I don’t think I’ve heard more than one word from him at a time. “Then we’re out of this hell.”

His eyes never leave the anchor he’s been staring at every single day since the accident.

“Do you think you’re going to go home?” I cough, trying to cover the heavy emotions I feel digging into my chest. “To see your mom. Parker.” Even saying her name sends a chill down my spine.

Stop.

The order is useless, though. I’ll never not think about Parker Hayes. I haven’t before, and I won’t now. She’s always been the perfect contradiction, wrapped in sass and fire. Everything that makes the wet dreams of a teenager come to life.

Linc’s shoulders tense, and then he sighs, slumping into something that doesn’t resemble my best friend in the slightest. “No. I can’t see her. Not yet. Not until I have something to tell her.”

But he isn’t talking about Parker. Nor is he talking about his mom. I can tell that much by the way his eyes dart over my face, almost afraid of what I’ll say next.

Hell, I’d be afraid too, honestly.

“Kennedy’ll wait for you.” I take the high road and deserve a fuckin’ trophy for it. “She’ll be hurt, and no doubt will give you all sorts of shit about it. But you lost your brother, Linc. You deserve some time to figure out your life, to salvage what’s left of your happiness.”

“She’s your sister, man.” Linc closes his eyes, wrapping his hands around his face. His pain filters through the short distance between us, bringing me into the circle of his grief and desolation.

“Yeah.” I shrug. “But Kennedy knew exactly what she was getting into. There’s a reason I didn’t go after my heart.” Flashes of Parker fill my mind, and I’m powerless to stop them.

Her, dancing under a sky full of stars when we went camping during high school.

Her, running around the field next to the elementary school in eighth grade, trying to get away from something in a distant memory.

Her, on the first day of school, walking in and knocking me on my six-year-old ass, without even knowing it.

Her, never knowing that she owned me.

And she never will.

“I’m sorry.” The words feel wrong, like acid pouring out of my throat, and I wish like hell that I could take them back. That I never had to utter them in the first place.

“They got the debris cleaned up.” Linc’s emotionless eyes shift back to the familiar desert. “Where Danny’s chopper went down. You can’t even tell anymore.”

“Let’s go.” I grab my rifle, sitting against the Humvee that Linc has taken up an almost permanent position against.

Linc doesn’t follow, at least not at first. A few seconds later, he pushes himself away from the truck and comes with me. Every step seems hesitant, forced out of him.

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