Forgotten Promise (Forgotten Series Book 2) (5 page)

Her voice of reason
comforting in the midst of panic. I’m aware Nathan is listening to every word,
maybe it will allow me the opportunity to talk to him. Cash is fucking napalm,
he’s dangerous, and anyone in his path will be destroyed.

“I love you, sweet
girl.”

She continues holding
both of my hands, mine shaking in her grip.

“You didn’t deserve
this, or to have your birthday ruined. I’ll leave you to pick up the pieces.”
Gen kisses my cheek and leaves.

I hear the staff
leave behind her, and we’re alone.

“So, when will I get
the truth, Bryer?” Clenching his fist, in a way to calm himself enough to
handle what just happened.

~Nathan~

Jesus, talk about a punch
in the gut. My thoughts go back to Vegas, the plan, the proposal, the ring. All
ruined. Tainted. Stung by the news that she loved Cash enough to want to spend
her entire life with him. A jaw-dropping bomb just landed between us. Questions
circling my mind, I thought we didn’t keep secrets, shared everything.

“Unbelievable,” I say
after what feels like hours of silence. I’m sitting across the table from the
woman I love, knowing she didn’t trust me enough to share this detail of her
life.

“Why?” She still
hasn’t spoken one word, explaining nothing. The word chump comes to mind as the
burn intensifies. “I need to know more, am I having a conversation with
myself?” The hurt coming out in ways I’m not proud of.

“Not intentionally.”
She speaks.

“Then why keep the
secret? Do you still have feelings for him?” She looks up as if I just struck
her. Hurt in her eyes, but still no fucking words—her silence is only fueling
the crazy thoughts in my mind.

“Yes or no, Bryer?”
Why is she hesitant to answer? Fear increasing with every second.

“Of course not.”

I let out a breath I
didn’t realize I was holding, fucking finally. “Then explain,” I say,
recognizing the scorn in my voice, but I’m unable to reel it in.

“I don’t have a good
reason, I just didn’t want you to know he meant that much to me.”

Jesus, that hurt.
Maybe I don’t want to know all the details. “Any other skeletons in the
closet?’ I know I sound dick-ish, but I’m having a hard time making sense of it
all. Hiding this on the grounds I wouldn’t be able to handle it is unsettling.

“Not that I know of.”

Not exactly the
answer I need. “Cash just got the last laugh, Bryer, and at my expense. I’m
going to bed I have an early morning.” I may be acting like an ass, the hurt
taking a front seat controlling my actions, but I’m letting it.

“Nathan, wait.” The
anguish obvious.

“Not tonight, Bryer,
whatever is said tonight will only be coming from a place of anger.”

She winces at my
words.

And with that I leave
her sitting there, not wanting to risk the words that I might regret tomorrow.
Trust is a fragile emotion that can be put to the test and easily broken. I
look back to see her sitting alone amongst her entire birthday celebration.
Maybe I’m being a dick, maybe I’m caught up in a testosterone battle, and he
just won this round. Fucking prick.

I wake while it’s
still dark, I never heard her come to bed but there she sleeps peaceful and
devastatingly beautiful. It takes everything I have not to touch her or take
her hard. But that’s my body speaking, not my heart. When did love turn a man
into a pussy? Tragic realization as I grab coffee to go, I notice everything
has been put away, cleaned with no trace of the party, the gifts, the balloons,
the fucking ring gone, or hidden. I do notice she left the flowers.

“You look like shit.”
Claytons starts in.

“Imagine that.” Not
wanting to rehash last night.

“It’s not like she
was
married
before, Nathan.” He continues.

“Okay, Clayton, I
don’t need you busting my balls right now.”

“Duly noted.” And
turns towards his computer, going over imaginary work.

Fine, I’ll take the
quiet. I dive into the paperwork that has been sitting here for over a week.
Bills, payroll, mail—all in one big fucking mess.

“I was wondering when
you were getting to that.” Speaking but his eyes never leave the computer.

“Would you just
stop?” Anger starting to bubble in the pit of my stomach again.

“Uh huh, leaving,” he
says quickly, closing the door behind him, knowing I always leave it open.

My attention
engrossed in emails, invoices and client dues. My phone rings, unknown blinking
on the screen. Unknown is always a bad surprise. “Nathan James,” I answer.

“Nathan, Dawson
Kendrick.”

God damnit. “Mr.
Kendrick, what can I do for you?” The lack of respect obvious in my tone,
intentionally.

“The same request I
asked last month. Your father wants to see you, and as his lawyer, I can make
it happen.”

Bile in my stomach
surfacing at the thought. “As I’ve stated before, and I believe every time
we’ve spoken, the answer is no.” Considering just hanging up on him, fucking
lawyer can’t take no for an answer. Jesus, I’m surrounded by unethical lawyers,
giving this profession a black eye.

“He hasn’t given up
on you, Nathan, you’re his son.”

Thank fuck, I’m not.
“You
do
understand what my father has done, correct?’

“Allegedly.”

Ah, another lawyer
word, fuck him. “Mr. Kendrick, I’m the prosecution’s star witness. Isn’t there
some conflict of interest here?”

‘I’ve taken care of
that.”

Of course he has.
“You mean my father’s money has.” The rudeness not easing my anxiety.

“He’s looking for
closure, for you too. To give you peace, Nathan.”

Fucking lawyers, this
is wrong on so many levels. “When?”

“Today.”

I scoff. “Afraid I’ll
change my mind?”

“Yes. Four o’clock.”
He hangs up.

My phone still
pressed to my ear. “Fucking perfect.”

I’m driving to a
prison. What in God’s name am I doing? The turmoil abruptly rising. Trying so
desperately to calm myself before the devil consumes me.

I’m checked in,
scanned, frisked with blatant suspicion, I should have brought a file in a cake
to give them something to do. I’m ushered through one locked door after
another. The loud clang startles me every time they shut. It’s cold, evidently
you don’t get heat if you commit a crime. That’s fair.

“Wait here.”

The guard nodding to
the miniature chair where I’m to sit, and a table with a glass partition. I’ve
lost my mind, I say to myself, as I take a seat. The silence is deafening,
chilling—this was a bad idea. Then I see him slowly walking, his hands up in
surrender, as he’s looking at me. The sharp stare of caution apparent on his
face.

He touches the glass,
but I do nothing in response. He motions for the phone. I pick it up.

“Son.”

“This is awkward.” I
begin, he nods in agreement.

He leans in close to
the glass, too close. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”

I let out a loud
breath in hopes to steady my words. “Disappointed me?” How fucking dare the
bastard!

“I know I’ve hurt
you.”

“Do you? I don’t
think so.” Trembling over his cavalier attitude. “You wreaked havoc on my life,
took my mother from me. Lied, schemed, and all without a second thought. What
kind of man does that?” Not really looking for an answer, I already know what
kind of man does that, a wicked cruel human being with no morals, a narcissist
who has never been held accountable for anything in his life. Until now.

“I don’t pretend to
be someone I’m not.”

I kick myself for
agreeing to do this.

“That was then,
things were different.”

I cut him off. “No,
you’re wrong, nothing’s changed for me, then, or now. I was there, I know the
truth. I only want to know one thing. Why? You could have divorced her. Left
her, left me. We would have been alright.”

“I would have lost
you,” he says quietly, but he can’t look me in the face.

Coward.

He taps his finger on
the table and we both watch as he continues this nervous habit.

Although alI I can
hear is silence. “Why did you want me here?” To fuck with my mind, but he’ll
never admit it.

Silence.

“Ashamed? Are you
sorry for what you’ve done?” Then it occurs to me. “Do you want my forgiveness?
Is that why I’m here?” His watery eyes say it all. “NO.” I stand. “AM. I.
UNDERSTOOD? You’ll never get it.”

I slam the phone
down, Good fucking riddance. “This just keeps getting better.” I don’t look
back. I storm out of there with purpose, unknown purpose. I drive back home
where now I have to face Bryer. Fucking great.

~Bryer~

Sitting at my desk, I
make a decision. I would face Cash, give him the ring, then go ballistic on
him, confront the man who has hurt me more than once. As I muster the courage,
my hand trembles as the phone sits in my hand. I press his number and take a
small calming breath.

“So, the engagement
ring did it,” Cash answers.

What an ass. “On the
contrary, I’m not sure what you think you’ve accomplished, but I’ll be giving
the ring back, again. Meet me at the coffee shop across the street from my
work, now.” I order.

“Then I accomplished
exactly what I set out to.” He hangs up.

That man is so
infuriating I have to find a way to stop him from getting under my skin. He’s
such a dirty player, I’m no match for that level of dysfunction. I grab my
coat, the bite of winter is coming, I’ve never been a fan of the cold. The way
the early darkness comes too soon, all consuming. The cloudy depressing days,
the gloomy day changes everything, it changes me. The irony doesn’t escape me,
I just described how I feel about Cash.

I realize security
won’t see me leave the building from this entrance, maybe I should have alerted
him of my whereabouts. But I’ll be across the street, in a public place,
surrounded by over a dozen people. He’s a phone call away. So I dismiss it.

I run across the
street holding my coat together for warmth, I think I see a few flurries. I
order the strongest cup of coffee, add my special ingredients, and take a seat.
On second thought, a little Bailey’s would have been the smarter choice.

“Typical.” I see a black
Limo pulling up, and the driver hurries to open the back door. As he climbs
out, I notice every detail, as if it’s all happening in slow motion, still the
same dark suit dressed to perfection, not a hair out of place, his coat lifting
in the cold breeze, expensive everything. I would bet his watch cost more than
my car. Then, I’m slammed in the face with the realization of my actions.
Face-to-face with Cash.

“May I?”

Always so polite,
fake charm oozing out of every pore. “Fine.” Feeling annoyed. “I have some
questions for you.”

“Fire away.”

His confidence as
powerful as I remembered, watching him take off his coat, straighten his suit
and sit. His hands entwine naturally resting on the table, an arrogant air
surrounds him, and he knows he’s in control. We both know. “The ring, why?” I
ask, no beating around the bush, he doesn’t deserve a soft interrogation.

His eyes narrow into
slits of irritation. “It’s obvious, isn’t it, Bryer? You’re a smart girl, it
got you here.” Cynicism in his voice.

“And that is the
ultimate goal, Cash, getting me here? Why, is there more?”

“Your mother, didn’t
your boyfriend give you the message?” Internally smirking, as our eyes meet.

“Of course he did,
but you failed to offer any details, other than your cryptic few words.” He’s
playing me with a game I want no part of. But that’s what he does, he’s a
master of manipulation.

“This is a private
matter.”

Those words aren’t
sitting well with me, while he runs his hands through his blond hair, messing
it just enough to be a distraction. “I don’t quite follow you, stop acting like
a lawyer circling around the truth, and just tell me. That’s why I’m here,
isn’t it?” Recognizing his way of
handling
someone.

“There was a time when
I had you twisted around my little finger.” He smiles, reaching for a piece of
hair that has fallen close to my face.

“Stop, you gave up
the right to touch me long ago.” Knocking his hand away before it touches me.

“Right.” Pausing to
evaluate the rejection. A feeling that is foreign to Cash.

“My secretary alerted
me  a box delivered to the home I’ve rented while I stay in town. As you
well know, I prefer to work comfortably, instead of in a crowed stuffy office.”
He shrugs.

“I remember, I made
the reservations many times.” Attempting to stay away from the memories
flooding in.

“They are still
setting it up for me, so I’ve been forced to stay at the Chase.”

“Roughing it I see,”
I say sarcastically, under my breath.

“It’s a box with your
mother’s things.”

I look up in wonder,
disbelief at the possibility, the hopeful little girl living inside me
screaming to get out. If he’s lying then I won’t be responsible for my actions.

“I’m afraid I don’t
understand, I lost her years ago.” As I shake my head no.

“I understand the
lawyer who handle your mothers “estate” passed away. He failed to give it to
you.” Cash casually answers as if this wouldn’t mean the world to me.

Yet, still uncertain
if I fully comprehend the gravity of his words, I sit in silence. I’ve longed
for a piece of her, a new memory, her soft touch. He can’t possibly understand
the importance of this.

“If this is true, what are you
waiting for? I need to see it.” I burst out.

“I haven’t been by
the house, I only know it’s there. We can go get it now.” He innocently offers,
rising to leave before I agree.

Bells, whistles and
alarms are going off in my head. No fucking way will I go anywhere with Cash.
I’m desperate for that box so I have to find a way. I could follow him, with
the security guy who drove me this morning. But, do I want Nathan to hear it
from him, or me? Definitely me. A whirlwind in my head, and I know Cash is
sitting back, watching it play out. “I don’t know how comfortable I would be
going with you, Cash, and I’m positive Nathan would have something to say about
it also.”

Pausing, still
searching for the perfect plan. “Especially after the stunt you pulled
yesterday, I’m surprised you’re still walking around on your own two feet.”
Nathan beating him to a pulp would not be beneath him.

“Oh darlin’, I can
take care of myself. I’m not worried about your boyfriend.”

Pretentious as
always. “Stop with the darlin’, Cash.” Sounding self-assured, but inside I’m
anything but. I can see it now: Nathan, sir, your girlfriend just drove off with
Cash. No, I need to tell him. I know it’s compulsive, but I have to know what’s
in that box. If I go with him, I’m trapped and that’s what worries me.

“I don’t have all
day, Bryer. It’s up to me to witness you sign off on this and get the paperwork
back to the office. You have five minutes. I’ll be in the car.”

And I watch as he
walks away. “Call him, just call him.” Dialing his number. It goes straight to
voicemail. I won’t leave a message. There’ll be hell to pay after last night
but I’m going. I’ll try him again in the car. I’ll only be a phone call away.

By this time Cash has
already reached the car, waiting.

Assuming I will
follow. Conceited fuck.

Cash sees me and
opens the door, naturally assuming he’s getting his way. He’s got that wrong,
I’ll be in and out. A mixture of fear and something I can’t name is confusing
my assessment of the situation about to unfold. A snowflake lands on his
eyelash, and I have the most natural desire to brush it away, but stop before I
reach his face. What was that? I hit redial, voice mail again. I sigh in
frustration.

“Missing boyfriend?
Don’t cha’ just hate that?” Cash smirks.

“Zip it, I don’t need
a commentary.”  I have to admit, he’s right though, missing boyfriend is
making me nervous.

“Don’t get yourself
all bent out of shape now.” Checking his own phone, and taking his attention
away from me for a split second.

I text Gen, knowing
she’s at work.

Bryer:
Cash’s firm has found a missing
box that was my mother’s..

Tumblina:
Where are you going?” her response
is immediate

Bryer:
To Cash’s office

Tumblina
: Alone?

Bryer
: No, with Cash.

Tumblina
: Have you lost your fucking mind?

Bryer
: yes.

“How much longer?”
It’s starting to snow and we’ve been on the highway for what seems like hours.
I feel as if I’m suffocating in the back seat with
him
.

“Not sure, I’ve only
been there once. I told you it wasn’t set up yet.”

Easily discarding my
worry. His familiar scent clings to me, and recollections I thought I had long
buried start to surface. I push them down, but the day comes back to me like a
lightning strike.

Remembering the ring.
I start digging through my purse and feeling the anger from last night.

“Here.” Shoving the small box in
his face. “I don’t want it.”

“We’ve never talked
about this, Bryer.”

My arm hanging in
midair. “Maybe because the last time I saw you, you had your dick in some other
woman.”

He whips his face to
meet mine. “On second thought, we can talk about this later.”

“Take it.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you
can’t?”

He ignores me,
looking out the window.

And that’s when we
arrive at the long driveway, I can hear the crunch of the gravel beneath us.
Barely making out the massive log home, slowly the lights displaying the
grounds and the home itself come into view, it is actually stunning, huge, and
expensive. So…fucking…Cash.

“Come inside.”

~DAY
ONE~

~Bryer~

As I watch Cash hold
the grand door to his oasis, I consider who this man is. He has the ability to
hurt me in the blink of an eye. Yet here he stands going to great lengths to
personally present me with one of the most precious gifts I’ll ever receive—a
part of my mom. Something I thought I would never possess again, a tangible
part of her. Well, that’s what I’m anticipating.

“Here, let me take
your coat.”

I let him, and take a
moment to admire my surroundings.

“Let me start a fire,
it’s chilly in here, and the snow looks like it’s coming down a little harder.”

“Cash, don’t bother.
I’m not staying that long.” I try Nathan again, but when I dial, I get a
beeping noise. Panic starting to rise. “No signal out here?” Sounding a bit
more flustered than I mean too.

“Not yet, they are
working on setting internet, phones and yes tower strength. That’s why I
haven’t been working from here yet. I told you, remember?”

And within minutes
the flames are roaring. I step closer and hold my hands out to grab the heat.
Chills consuming my body. This is not good, not good at all. I’m imagining
Nathan not being able to return my missed calls, he’ll never understand unless
I get home soon.

“And when did they
say it would be working?” Gauging his words, never really knowing what to
believe. He’s the ultimate con man. A mastery of deceit, yet I fucking came
with him. Chastising myself.

“Soon.”

“That’s not an
answer, Cash.”

“I agree, that’s what
I told them.” Touching my shoulder.

But I move instantly,
not allowing his touch.

“Don’t panic, Bryer,
I have your mother’s box”.”

A rush of excitement
stirs, and everything else falls away. Nearly.

Feeling slightly
self-conscience to display the excitement he’s brought me, I underplay it, as
some sort of shield, but in truth, he knows, he knows me to well not to
understand.

“Where’s your
driver?” I ask, looking out the window, watching the snow fall and build on the
driveway.

“He’s not my driver,
it’s a service.” Looking over his shoulder as if that’s not a problem.

“You mean he’s not
waiting to take us back?’

“He’s not.”

“What are you saying,
Cash? I can’t stay here tonight.” My voice rising, frantic with what looks like
will be my only option.

“Darlin’, unless you
brought your snow boots that’s exactly what you’ll be doing,” he says smugly,
as he leaves the room.

Fuck, was this his
plan?

“Feel free to take
the tour. There’s plenty of rooms here, you can have your choice of one of the
eight bedrooms, there’re seven baths, there’s over eleven thousand square feet
here, you can lose yourself, and never have to see me,” he says casually.

What the hell? Nathan
will be worried sick, especially after our first fight last night. “I have to
get a message to Nathan.”

“And how do you
propose to do that?” Looking at me with complete compassion.