Page 1 of Just a Little Promise

Chapter One

“Come on. Onelast round, and this time show me what you’ve really got.”

Skye Abbott heard her brother’s encouraging voice but kept her focus on the punching bag he held in place for her to pummel. With every solid, direct hit she took, she imagined her ex’s smug, pretentious face.

Punch, punch, kick.

She’d been at today’s kickboxing session for nearly half an hour and felt the burn in her core and every other muscle in her body. Sweat beaded on her skin, and her ponytail smacked her back and shoulders with each jab at her target.

Punch, punch, kick.

The adrenaline rush was exhilarating. As was the capable, confident, empowered feeling coursing through her—all the things her ex had methodically stripped from her during the course of their marriage.

Piece by piece, she’d managed to rebuild her confidence and self-worth, and swore she’d never let herself be that vulnerable again. She ended the round with one finalpunch, punch, kick, punch, punch.

“Good job,” Spencer said, releasing the bag and grinning at her. “You were a savage today, sis.”

Still breathing hard, she took off her boxing gloves and accepted the bottle of water he held out to her. “That’s because I have an excellent coach.”

Spencer had encouraged her to give kickboxing a try when she’d moved to New York four months ago, after her divorce had been finalized. Not only did he want her to build her strength but also to make sure she had some form of self-defense to fall back on should the need arise.

“Well, you’ve come a long way from your first session,” he said with a laugh.

She chugged half the bottle of water, remembering that day so well. How timid she’d been. Her weak, uncertain punches. Feeling so uncoordinated and awkward. But Spencer had been relentless in his training, demanding she hit harder, faster, and beat the shit out of the bag like her life depended on it.

She appreciated his tough love approach, and gradually, over the past few months she felt her mind and body repairing itself and her return to the old Skye, the one she’d been before she’d met Jack Tremont. After four hellish years, it was as though she’d finally emerged from the stifling cloak of darkness and back into the light.

“So, any plans for tonight?” she asked as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck with a small towel she’d left on a nearby bench.

“Yep.” He glanced at her as they left the gym located in his apartment building and headed for the elevator. “Got a date.”

He waggled his brows, and since said date came without a name, Skye knew that it was probably just one of the casual hook-ups from his “Little Black Book” app. With his sandy blond hair, deep blue eyes, and flirtatious nature, along with being a stockbroker on Wall Street, there was no shortage of women vying for his attention. But her brother was an unapologetic bachelor through and through.

“Want me to find somewhere else to crash for the night?”Like a hotel room. She was starting to feel guilty about living at his place, and therefore hindering his ability to “entertain”,aka have sex with, those dates at home. And the last thing she wanted was to hear her brother in the room next to hers, doingthat.

He shook his head and punched the button for the elevator, which immediately opened for them to step inside. “No, I can make other arrangements.”

Which he’d been doing for the past four months. “I’m cramping your style,” she said, and sighed. “I really need to find a place of my own.”

“I told you, there’s no rush,” he said, and she heard the protective tone in his voice. “I want you to feel settled before—”

“I venture out on my own in big, bad New York City?” she finished for him, albeit sarcastically.

His lips pursed in annoyance. “Yes.”

The elevator opened on his floor and she followed him to his apartment, then inside, while arguing her point. “It’s been four months since I moved here and it’s time. You can’t protect me forever.”

“I’m your big brother,” he said, turning to face her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s my job to be overbearing and protective.”

She saw the pained look in his eyes, and knew the source. He’d worn that same expression the day she’d finally found the courage to leave Jack, and Spencer had picked her up, bringing her to her parent’s home with one suitcase holding all her meager possessions. He’d already been furious with her husband for his mental and emotional abuse, but Spencer had taken one look at her, and his anger had dissolved into guilt, because he hadn’t realized how bad things had become. Especially when she told him that Jack had finally crossed a line and hit her.

Like other women in her position, she’d become good at making excuses about not seeing her family, and perfecting ways to fake being happy when the reality was, she’d been miserable and controlled by a man who had gradually destroyed her resistance, her morale, and her spirit. And while her family had suspected that her marriage was not what she attempted to portray, they hadn’t been prepared for the broken woman who’d walked into their house two years ago, a shell of her former self.

She was grateful for their support, the way they’d rallied around her and built her back up when she thought she’d never feel whole again. But now, she needed to take the next step in her life, without being swaddled like a newborn baby.

“I feel good, Spencer,” she said, setting her boxing gloves and bottle of water on the table. “Really good. Stronger and better than I have in years. But I need my space and independence back so I can start planning my future. I’ve got a job that I love and the next step is finding a place of my own.” She refrained from pointing out that she was thirty years old and didn’t need his permission, because she knew his concern came from a place of love.

He was still wearing that unconvinced frown, stubborn as ever. “You’re the one who encouraged me to move to New York in the first place,” she reminded him.

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