Page 3 of Unfulfilled Promises
She was distraught and blamed me for his death. For weeks, she grilled me, wanting to know everything he told me, but I still kept his secrets. Not out of loyalty to him, though, because fuck him and fuck her too. I didn’t tell her because I wasn’t going to give her the keys to the kingdom and allow her to fulfill his evil plan.
That bitch made sure that every minute of the time I was under her roof was filled with pain, embarrassment, humiliation, and ultimately, my moral downfall. She took pleasure in watching me break inside, and she laughed at my agony.
When James and Devlin rescued me almost another year later, I hardly recognized myself. And no matter how much time passed, I couldn’t forget Sergey’s secrets or what his crazymistress did to me to try and claim her throne. I hoped her death was painful.
Chapter 1
Regan – Present Day
The sounds of the party filtered through the glass doors from the ballroom into the back yard where I stood, staring up at the night sky. Everyone was inside, celebrating the potential for a new year and their new start, but I knew it was all bullshit. One minute ticking by didn’t give you a clean slate, even if I wished it did.
Walking farther from the house and deeper into the darkened yard, I exhaled deeply, hoping the intrusive thoughts would leave me in peace, but I knew better. Every day, I thought about the two years I was gone, and no matter what I did, no matter how much counseling I received, there was no erasing the painful memories.
Most days, I could keep a smile on my face and push the darkness into a corner, where it watched me faking everything with everyone. Rhys and James would ask me if I was alright, and I would always tell them yes, even when I wanted to scream no. But they didn’t need to know what I’d survived during my time away, and if they ever found out the truth, I feared they would turn their backs on me, leaving me truly alone in the world.
They thought their business and the things they did to protect people were a secret from me, but I heard what they discussed, and I knew they would destroy me if they ever discovered what I did. Since Hannah came into our lives, I’d worried that my secrets would be uncovered and I would have to explain why I agreed to what I did in order to survive.
I was almost at the small patio near where we have target practice, and the sounds and lights from the party were almost gone as I took my seat, enjoying the silence under the faint glow of the solar lights lining the patio. Closing my eyes, I thought about what my next move needed to be, and it immediately brought anxiety to my chest. I knew I couldn’t live with my brother forever, especially since he and Hannah were going to be getting married, but I really didn’t have any other place to go.
When I was a toddler, I was discovered wandering the streets, covered in bruises, with no parents in sight. It took the police months to discover who I belonged to. My mother had been in prison for solicitation and had left me with one of her druggie friends while she was gone. For months, I was nursed back to health, and when I was four, my mother came back for me. She was a stranger to me, but with no other option and a social worker monitoring the situation, she was allowed to regain custody.
Those years were burned into my memory even more than the two years I was kept captive. I remembered everything that happened in that crappy house she and I lived in. She was an absolute nightmare, but she was the only mother I had. Just before I turned eight, she disappeared and I was returned to the system.
James discovered me a few months later, and from that moment on, I knew what having someone care about me really meant. He facilitated my meeting with my older brother, who I didn’t know about, and he and Rhys made sure I was taken care of until I was able to come live with them. They were family and the most supportive men I’d ever met, but I feared they would turn their backs on me if they uncovered my shame.
Sitting down in one of the chairs around the small table, I leaned back and closed my eyes, wishing for a moment’s peace. I was constantly worried about them discovering my secrets. Ifeared being alone, I was terrified of my feelings, and worst of all, I missed someone who should’ve never been mourned.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked the universe, knowing I wouldn’t get a response.
I should’ve been able to put that first year of captivity behind me, forgetting everything that happened, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget. The second year was absolute hell, and my body carried scars that constantly reminded me of every lash, every whip, and every rivulet of blood that ran from me.
It’s that first year that kept me awake at night. It’s what I’d agreed to that panged me and haunted my soul.
Tears began to build behind my closed eyes, so I lowered my face from the night sky and reached up to press the corners of my eyes, refusing to let them fall. There should be no tears shed for that man, ever. But here I sit, feeling the loss still.
“Fuck,” I muttered, “I’m insane.”
“I beg to differ,” a voice said from behind me, and I jumped from my seat and turned to face the direction it came from. He stepped out from the darkness and smiled across at me in the moonlight as he continued. “From what I’ve observed, you’re probably the sanest person here.”
Seth Johnson, who worked with Lucian, stepped closer to me, and I placed my hand over my rapidly beating heart as I retook my seat. “Don’t sneak up on people like that,” I chastised.
He raised his hands in the air as he got closer and chuckled as he said, “My bad. I thought you heard me, but I guess I was wrong.” He glanced toward the house and the faint sounds of the party before asking, “Can I join you?”
“Sure,” I replied and watched as he took his walkie-talkie off his belt, turned a knob on the top, and placed it on the table before he took a seat next to me.
“Why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else?” he inquired, and all I could do was shrug.
I’d learned within a few days of being home that it was better to not speak when you couldn’t give an answer someone wanted to hear. Rhys, James, and Devlin asked questions of me, then they insisted I go into therapy. I still wouldn’t say something to placate someone when the truth was on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I’d stay silent and keep my secrets.
Seth nodded like he understood before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a flask. He uncapped it and took a swallow then offered it to me. I looked at him and then back to it before reaching out and taking it from him. Taking a shallow pull from the flask, the liquor hit my tongue, and before I allowed the nasty taste to stop me, I swallowed it down, feeling the burn into my stomach.
I handed it back. “Thanks.”
He took another swallow before recapping it and placing it on the table. Turning in his chair to face me, I waited for the same questions I always heard, only to be surprised when he said, “It must suck that they treat you like you’re broken.”
I gave him a confused look, and it was his turn to shrug. “I’ve been around enough over the last year or so to see that everyone treats you like you’re about to shatter instead of understanding that sometimes people don’t want to spill their guts on the floor for others’ entertainment.” He looked out into the yard as he added, “I could be wrong, though.”
“You’re not wrong, but how did you know that?” I asked, curious how Seth, of all people, could see that I was hiding more than I was sharing.
