Page 6 of Broken Promise

“Karmen,” I say hoarsely. “I don’t know whatyou want.”

She laughs, a broken, angry sound.

“That answers my question,” she saysangrily. “All I ever wanted was you. Now, I’ll stay out of your barand out of your way. Please pay me the same courtesy.”

She is gone with the slam of a door before Ican even contemplate formulating a reply. My legs finally give outand my ass hits the hardwood floor. I sit staring at the door forwho knows how long before Adam enters my field of vision.

“What did you do?” he demands, anger coatinghis words.

“I don’t know,” I answer, shaking my head.“But I think I fucked up.”

“Three for three,” my brother says, shakinghis head.

“What?”

“The asshole awards, brother. You made hercry.”

Chapter Three

Karmen Jones

When you’re drinking it seems like the bestidea in the world. When you wake up hungover, not so much. Lying inmy bed I wait for the worst of the nausea to pass before sitting upagainst the headboard. My brain feels like it is being split by arailroad spike and my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed withcotton wool.

The message tone on my phone sounds in thesilence, sending a new round of throbbing pains through my head. Iglare at the offending device where it lays on my bedside table butdon’t pick it up. I have priorities now.

First things first, I need to empty mybladder and brush my damn teeth. Then, I may be able to face myphone if not the world. It doesn’t matter how shitty I feel todayor how much I drank last night, I can remember every single thingthat happened.

Walking out of the bathroom, I rub at thecenter of my chest where the pain still resides. Tears well in myeyes but I fight them back. Last night was enough. I cried forhours until I was sober and finally my spent body fell asleep.Heartbreak sucks but at least now I know where I stand. Today, it’stime for a new me. To move on from Wesley and start living.

Grabbing my phone, I unlock the screen andstare at the messages. All fifteen of them. And they are all fromWesley. Taking a deep breath, I clear my inbox, not opening asingle one before I do. Scrolling down to his contact information,I block him. I need a clean break.

He is going to try to fix this with words,but he can’t. There isn’t a single thing he can say that willchange the truth. I love a man who doesn’t love me.

Looking around my bedroom I make a decision,one that will change everything. Jumping from my bed once more, Iquickly shower before getting dressed. Glaring at the brightmorning sun, I slide my sunglasses onto my face and walk the threeblocks into town. I could take my car, but walking gives me time tothink through my plan and I need to make a mental list of all thethings I have to do today.

Main Street is busy. People are millingaround, making their way in and out of stores or sitting in thediner with friends and family for breakfast. I don’t stop and chatwith anyone, letting my feet carry me to my destination. Pushingopen the glass door, I enter the air-conditioned building, threesets of eyes immediately drawn to me.

“Who wants to sell my house?”

“What?” Shane Blake asks with a frown.“You’re selling the house?”

“Yes,” I reply, taking a seat across fromhis desk. “My parents are in Florida and there’s nothing for me inSevern. It’s time for a change.”

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

“If you don’t want the commission, I’m sureI can find someone else to do it.”

He snorts. “This is the only agency in town,sweets. And I own it.”

“Then just do your damn job, Shane!” Icounter loudly, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Please. Just dothis for me.”

“Fine,” he sighs, typing on his laptop. “Doyou have a minimum threshold?”

“I don’t care,” I say honestly. “It’s just ahouse. I have savings so I’m leaving as soon as I’m packed, and youcan let me know when it’s sold.”

“Karmen, I don’t know what is going on butare you sure you’ve thought this through?”

Standing, I glare at him. “I need the Blakebrothers to stay out of my business. Just treat me like any othercustomer.”

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