Page 63 of No Broken Promises

The look of pure confusion and terror on Remy’s face only lasts for about a second before he shuts his mouth and steps into the living room, leaving the front door wide open.

“I’m glad you saw the error of your ways, big brother.” Kennedy waves at her brother from the other side of the couch and smiles mischievously with her machete in her hand. “For future reference, taking off during a fight is generally a bad idea. Besides, what could she not understand about them? You loved her? You’ve always loved her? Seems pretty cut and dry to me. But then, what do I know? It’s not like I read the letters or anything.” My glare forces her into silence, and Kennedy’s response is to hold the pillow up to hide her face. But I can still see the laughter in her eyes.

Once Remy composes himself, he says, “What are you doing here, Kennedy? Don’t you have more important things to do than stick your nose into my life in the middle of the night?”

She raises the pillow again, still clutched tightly in her hand, and throws it at his face. “I’m doing your job, asshole. I’ve been keeping Parker company while she falls even more in love with you, dummy.”

“What? Why? Uh…” Remy’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us, and I can see the wheels turning. “Go away, Kennedy.”

Ignoring her when she doesn’t move fast enough, Remy gives me his full attention. That’s when I notice his fear. The slight trembling of his shoulders, the nervous tic in his jaw, the way his fists clench and unclench while he stands there waiting, all of them indicators that Remy is not handling his feelings very well. The intensity in his gaze immediately sends hot coals down my throat, burning and aching as they race down into my chest, making it hard to breathe or even focus on anything.

Once I take a few deep breaths, my choice is clear. The glare I send Kennedy could have melted paint, which is more than apparent since I feel like my heart is currently on fire. She scrunches up her nose at me and then gets to her feet without saying another word. She grabs her machete and points it threateningly at her brother. She then pushes Remy out of the way so she can leave, shutting the front door with a ridiculously dramatic slam.

Remy purses his lips together, blinking owlishly for a moment at the door that Kennedy left through. “Was she holding a machete?” He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head while he tries to figure out exactly what happened and hide his nervousness. But I see how pale his skin is and the way his eyes dart back and forth between me and the door.

“I’m pissed at you. You stole the end of my letter. Don’t even think I missed that for a fucking minute.” I hadn’t planned on saying that, but once the words are out, I run with it. Especially after the panicked expression on Remy’s face turns to one of regret. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you… that I don’t love you.”

Getting up from the couch, I grab the first letter from the box and hold it tightly in my hand while I begin to pace.

Remy doesn’t take a single step, choosing instead to stand against the wall of the living room while I pace. He stares at me like I am a caged lion and he is afraid to interfere.

“If you sent me even one of these letters, our entire lives would have changed course, Remy. Any of them. Do you understand?”

His only response is to nod his head slightly, and that doesn’t help matters much. If anything, it makes all of my feelings even more overwhelming.

“Do you have any idea what I went through? What happened to me after you tore me completely apart? I loved you, Remy. I loved you and was willing to wait for you to be ready for any of that. And you threw it all away, and I thought you hated me. I thought I was stalking you, a creepy, ridiculous, idiotic little girl sending you letters that you never even wanted to get.”

Chest heaving, I stare at the man I loved then—the man I still love—and try desperately to gain control of my rage.

“Any of these letters would have changed my life, Remy. Don’t you see that?”

His shoulders are already slumped as he watches me pace and rant at him, and the haunted gleam in his eyes tells me that he is affected a lot more than he is letting on.

Still, he doesn’t say a word.

He’s letting you rant. Danny’s voice comes out of nowhere. Tell him, Parker. You have to tell him everything.

Swatting at the air next to my ear like that will actually get rid of him, I shake my head at the thought. I’ve kept his secret for the last six years. And now, Danny is there as a figment of my memory trying to get me to tell something that the real man would never have wanted me to share.

Why would you protect a dead man’s memory?

Danny’s smile in the photo on Remy’s wall taunts me, demanding something I haven’t ever thought to share with anyone.

Stop, Parker. Stop protecting me and the worst night of your life.

His eyes, even just a moment captured in time, stare back through the years at me. Letting go of all the hate, all the regret, and all the nights I’d stared at his dog tags, wishing for a different life. Letting it all go could destroy me. Telling the truth could take the last little bit of happiness I’ve ripped out for myself and burn it to the ground.

“Parker.” I jerk. Remy’s voice calls out from my left side, the opposite of where Danny’s phantom words had come from. “Parker, what’s wrong?” He twitches nervously. “Besides the obvious.”

“Obvious?” My voice cracks, and a shrill gasp escapes my chest. “Nothing’s obvious, Remy. Nothing. Yes, your letters could have saved me from the misery that’s been my life for the last six years. But I had Nox. I had something bright and shining out from the darkest moments of my life.”

“I’m so sorry I did that to you, Parker.” Remy takes a faltering step forward, his arms upraised as he tries to touch me, to hug me.

I back away, needing space, especially if I am considering letting him glimpse into the darkest part of my soul.

When I make eye contact with Remy a moment later, I realize my mistake. His lips press together tightly, and his eyes flash with doubt.

“Sit down, Remy.” The order falls from my mouth easily enough, but Remy doesn’t move to obey. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and stands firmly against the wall. “Please,” I add belatedly.

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