Page 21 of Broken Promises
Pulling it out, I saw a message from James and fought not to roll my eyes as I opened it.
James:I’m not sure how you want to handle it, but the test results are in and Hannah is Sergey’s daughter. I’ve let Devlin, Lucian, and Stella know and they’re eager to meet her.
Looking around the corner into the living room, I saw Hannah sitting back with her head resting on the couch, so I stepped back into the kitchen and responded to the message.
Me:I’ll let her know in the morning and we can plan something very soon.
James:Did you finally pull your head out of your ass?
Me:Bite me.
Sliding the phone back into my pocket, I exhaled and walked back into the living room. The soft sounds of a snore filtered over the couch, and when I walked around and squatted in front of her, I could see Hannah was peacefully sleeping. She’d struggled over the last few weeks to get good rest, so her being so relaxed meant I was doing my job.
I hated to wake her, but I wanted to put her into bed. Carefully, I touched her knee, and she startled awake and sat up quickly, looking around in confusion.
“Hannah, baby, let’s get you to bed.”
“I can do it,” she sleepily replied, and I shook my head and stood up.
Reaching under her knees and behind her back, I lifted her from the couch, and she laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my neck as I carried her to bed. “You smell good,” she murmured as I used my foot to pull the covers back some.
“I’m glad you think so,” I replied softly as I placed her on the bed and lifted the covers so she could get under.
She kept blinking, trying to fight sleep, so I sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her brown hair from her face. “Sleep, darlin.’ I’ll watch out for you tonight.”
Slowly, I leaned over and kissed her forehead as she finally closed her eyes and settled back into sleep. Standing from the bed, I moved to the bedroom door and was about to walk out and close it behind me when she spoke. I had to strain to hear what she was saying, and when I looked at her, she had her eyes closed.
“I know why I’m no good for you, but you’ll never listen,” she murmured, and I had to wonder if she was still awake or if this was her subconscious speaking.
I was confused by that statement and decided to ask her about it first thing in the morning. She needed to get those negative thoughts out of her mind, like what she survived somehow tainted her. She was a warrior, like all the women I’d helped, and I wouldn’t allow her to deprecate herself with destructive thinking.
Pulling the door almost closed, I walked into the living room and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch before sittingdown. I slipped my boots off and removed the gun from my cargo pocket before sliding it under a pillow. Placing my phone on the small table next to the couch, I laid down and draped the blanket over my legs and stomach as I tried to figure out what was running through Hannah’s mind.
Tomorrow, I was going to deliver news that may send her whole life reeling, but I would be right by her side, helping her traverse the unknown obstacles.
Throughout the night, I kept getting up and looking in on Hannah, making sure she was still sleeping peacefully, and at around six in the morning, I grabbed a bottle of water and some pain reliever from the bathroom and left them on her nightstand. She wasn’t drunk last night, but she’d had enough to make her tipsy, so I wanted to make sure she had what she needed in case she woke up feeling like crap.
After leaving the items for her, I made my way into the kitchen and found her single-cup coffee pot and cups. Making myself a cup of black coffee, I quietly slipped out the back door and took a seat on the porch. The sun was just beginning to push into the morning sky, and it was that time of day that the world seemed most peaceful.
Since I was five years old, I’d taken care of myself. My mother took off with her boyfriend after dropping me off at my dad’s house for the weekend. When it was time for her to return, I stared out the window for days, waiting for her to come back. My dad was an okay guy, but he had issues that made him incapable of raising me fulltime, so a week or so after my mom split, my dad called the state and told them he couldn’t take care of me.
I was heartbroken that no one wanted me, and for the next two months, I was shipped from one foster home to another. Finally, my mother’s sister came and took me to her house, and that’s where I grew close to James. For three years, things were difficult. My aunt only wanted me for the check, and once themoney ran out each month, James and I had to look out for ourselves. We’d steal bread, peanut butter, and cheap grape jelly so we had food, and at least one utility was close to being turned off at any given time.
Just before my thirteenth birthday, my aunt came home with a weird-looking man who watched James and me for hours. We didn’t know who he was, but he silently sat in the corner and kept his eyes on us. When my aunt returned, they went outside and spoke quietly then the man disappeared. That night, she took us for a rare treat of ice cream, and the next morning, I was woken up by the sound of James screaming to be let go.
The weird man had a flailing James in his arms, begging to be let go. My aunt sat on the couch with a bored expression on her face, and when I ran to help James, she jumped up from the couch and grabbed me before I could reach the man. I struggled against her with tears flowing down my face.
“Let me go! James!” I screamed, and she dropped me to my feet and spun me to face her.
Her slap was instant, and my head snapped to the side as my vision grew hazy. I fell to the dirty floor, and when I tried to sit up, still determined to save James, she pushed me back to the floor with her foot.
“Stop trying to be the hero, Rhys. He’s gone and there’s nothing you can do about it,” she said before turning around and walking away.
I felt like my life was spiraling out of control. I refused to stay quiet about James, so she called my social worker and told her I couldn’t stay any longer. I tried to tell my social worker about James, but my aunt lied and said he’d gone to live with his father and that was why she wanted me to leave.
No one questioned her and no one gave a damn to look for James. It was over five years later when we reconnected, and our relationship has been strained since then. Lately, we’d seemed tocome to a better understanding of each other, but there was still so much water under the bridge, that some days, I felt we’d never get back to the closeness we once had.
It was James who’d discovered my mother had another child after she left me. My sister, Regan, was found wandering the streets when she was two years old. Her condition when she was found was horrible. For years, she was in a nice foster home who nursed her back to health, until the husband passed away and she was returned to the foster system. I tried to adopt her, but being a single man without a support system made me a risky choice, so James and I made sure Regan had what she needed and was being taken care of, and as soon as she was eighteen, she came to live with me.
