The Sordid Promise (15 page)

“Yes, him. Not really a friend. Not really anyone. Just someone I used to know.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You’ll spook him with your—” I fingered his tie.

“Then, I’ll take you there and wait until you’re done.”

“Eric—“

He abruptly put a finger to my lips. “I’ll take you there and wait until you’re done,” he said with finality.

My appointment went on without a hitch. I was given birth control and an immediate contraception method. Clean bill of health, as expected. With only two lovers in my life with religious protection, it wasn’t a surprise.

Trent sat in the corner of the coffee shop with a hoodie pulled over his head. His dark green eyes continuously darted out of the coffee shop window. He waved me over when he spotted me. “Hey, be a peach and get me an espresso,” he said before I could fully sit down.

I rolled my eyes and went back in line, buying an espresso for him and a plain black coffee for myself. Approaching his table, I slid his mug over to him, and took a seat.

He clutched the large ceramic mug, like it was a precious gem, and stared at it. “You used to like espressos, too—‘til someone fucked up your taste in coffee.” His eyeliner was smudged underneath his eyes and there was dirt underneath his nails as black as his chipped nail polish.

“You don’t look well. You look like you’re next in line to be six feet under,” I said.

“You look like shit, too. What are you, like ninety pounds now? Hey, thought your mother wanted to be cremated.”

“Why would you say that like you knew her? My mother had a thing about being burned alive. She didn’t want to be burned in death.” I took a sip of my bitter, burnt coffee and made a sour face. “Why am I here, Trent?”

“I—” he started to sob.

I immediately remembered why I could only take him in very small doses. His overemotional nature added to the awkwardness of the first time we tried to have sex. He constantly asked if he was hurting me every two seconds. It ranked as one of the worst two minutes of sex I’d ever had.

“I need a place to stay.”

“I knew that this was what it was about,” I grumbled. “Trent, what did I tell you?”

“I know your mom gave you a few houses. Let me stay in one.”

“She gave me two. I’m not going to let you stay in one of my mother’s homes, so you can wreck it like you did your parents’ guest house.”

“That was an accident. If I can’t use you, I have no one.”

I took in a deep breath and picked up my phone.

“What are you doing? Are you calling The Center? Don’t call The Center. I can’t stay there.”

“Because you’re too good for it?”

“Because they kicked me out.”

“For?”

“I gave a guy some brain to get a score.”

I hunched over the table and repeatedly hit my forehead on the surface. “I have to go,” I moaned loudly into my lap. He wasn’t going to succeed in bringing me back into his vortex of disaster. Not today. Not again. Not
ever
again. I didn’t need it. Surely, if I needed someone to make me feel worse about myself and my situation, Trent would be the one to call upon.

“I’ll beg. I’ll do anything. Please. I’m living on the street.”

“I might have an option for that.” Startling both Trent and I, Eric stood over the table. He took a chair from one of the other tables and joined my not-so-good friend and me.

“Who the fuck are you?” Trent asked through gritted teeth.

Before I could stop Eric from answering, he said, “Eric, Nikki’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Trent asked incredulously as his eyes widened. “You have a
boyfriend
? No.” He shook his head profusely as he clutched it. “I’m going to fucking kill myself!” He rushed out, forgetting his barely touched five dollar espresso.

I moved to follow.

Eric grabbed my arm. “If you really want to help him, I can get him help. Following him is only going to make things worse for the both of you.”

“You don’t know him to know that.”

“I’m familiar with bipolar disorder—very familiar.” He firmed his hold as he suddenly turned on the phlegmatic persona. “Let him go.” His demand rang strong, reminding me of our agreement through three simple words.

I didn’t know the rules would extend to who I could and couldn’t see.

I gave in, because I knew Trent. I gave in, because after my mother, the fight I had left inside me was all but dead.

Besides, I knew how Trent worked. I’d see him again very soon.

The slamming of a car door startled Maisha and me at the same time. She did a low short bark as her ears perked up. She jumped on the bed and tried to sit on my lap.

I attempted to push her off me, but my hands and feet felt numb. My body was covered in sweat. I felt jittery and restless. I felt like I was going through…withdrawal. I couldn’t remember how or when I got into my bed. Last I remembered, I was watching a brain-sucking horror movie while Eric ordered takeout.

I did a double take, noticing Eric was sleeping next to me. I couldn’t remember how he got there either.

I slipped out of bed with a monstrous headache. I immediately went to the bathroom to expel the sick feeling from my stomach. With my stomach empty and my mouth rinsed out, I moved back to my bedroom window to see what the commotion outside was about.

Estelle and her boyfriend were arguing in the middle of the street…again. She continuously lunged at Preston, pushing him around while he tried to dodge her blows.

While in her dressing gown, Mrs. Hobbins marched down her drive. She threatened to call the cops, but it didn’t seem to faze either one of them.

“Back in bed, Nik.” I jumped at Eric’s booming voice as he slipped his arms around my waist.

“Can’t sleep anymore. Feel…sick.” I flourished my hand towards the window. “Don’t you need to do something?”

“It’s their form of foreplay.”

She grabbed his keys and attempted to stab Preston in the face with them.

“She’s really going to hurt him,” I fretted.

She succeeded, and in a flash, he backhanded her so hard she fell onto the hood of the car. I think she either broke her nose, or knocked out a tooth, because copious amounts of blood covered the lower half of her face.

“Is that foreplay, too?” I asked.

I turned back, but Eric was out the door, pulling a shirt on as he disappeared down the hall. “Stay in the house and don’t call anyone,” he yelled over his shoulder.

Maisha snarled and barked as she clawed at the window. I grabbed her collar and went downstairs.

I left her in the foyer as I went outside, leaving her to excitedly bark just behind the door. In just my T-shirt, tap shorts, and rubber soled sock shoes, I remained on the front doorstep and watched.

As Eric approached, the boyfriend immediately threw his arms up, and began to retreat. I couldn’t hear everything that was said as the two men exchanged words, but I did catch the word ‘please’ from Preston.

Eric grabbed him by the back of the neck and made him face-plant onto the hood of the car repeatedly. When he let Preston go, he fell to the ground chanting an apology while profusely bleeding from the nose and mouth. Eric forced him to stand and exchanged hushed words with him, before letting him go. Preston returned to his car and burned rubber as he sped down the road.

Estelle blubbered as she walked backwards, away from Eric. He wouldn’t stop walking toward her, so she hit him. It barely fazed him as he continued to walk while leading with his shoulders.

She fell to her knees with her head bowed. “You screwed up my life,” she sobbed into her lap. “Why don’t you just let me go? Why won’t you let me be with someone? Just leave me alone.” She slowly stood. “Don’t come inside the house. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t get a fucking say in what I do,” Eric shot at her acidly. “And that house? I paid for it. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with
my
house.”

“You said you would take care of me. Is this you taking care of me?”

“This mess with your boy-toy that you keep bringing to my doorstep needs to end, or—” he abruptly stopped. Steadily, his head turned in my direction.

I quickly slipped back inside the house before he caught me. Or at least I hoped I managed to slip away fast enough. I clutched my erratically beating heart as I sat on the stairs in the hall. My mind continually raced around explanations for what I just witnessed. Eric wasn’t kidding when he said he was wicked; however, I think he missed a few more adjectives: volatile, evasive, and…daunting. What I just saw left me stunned and more confused than ever about his nature.

Thirty minutes later, Eric came back inside. He remained silent as he stood in the foyer and leaned against the door while stroking his palm down his face. I noticed his cheek was a bright red, bordering on purple. I stepped forward to take a closer look.

He turned the full extent of his glare on me. “I told you to stay inside.”

I guess I wasn’t quick enough. “I—”

Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my thighs and lifted my legs to rest at his hips. He spun with me draped around him and threw my back against a wall with a hard force. “Tell me that you need me,” he whispered into my neck as he laid a sucking kiss on my collarbone. “Tell me that you want me and only me.”

The sudden onslaught of his touch, emptied my mind and internally moved my body.

“Say it, Nikki.” He pushed his body roughly against me, forcing my back to lightly slam against the wall.

“I-I need you.”

“Say it again,” he snarled.

“I want you. I need you. Only you,” I chanted repeatedly.

He put a finger to my lips and lightly shushed me. With the other hand, he brought my hand down to stroke his erection through his pants. “Do you want this cock, Nikki?” He pressed his palm against my mouth, staring at me with eyes that were dark and menacing.

My feverish body began to lightly perspire. His body against mine felt like a crushing bundle, siphoning away what little energy I had left. I slowly nodded in response.

He removed his hand from my mouth and pressed his lips against mine. He tugged my lips between his. Nipping at my mouth, he tugged my swelling bottom lip between his teeth. He slipped his hands between my thighs and shoved the crotch portion of my shorts and panties to the side. Pulling down his fleece trousers, he grabbed a fistful of his erection, guiding it towards my slit. The head of his hardness throbbed against my sex.

I wanted to say something, but before I could, he shoved his entire length inside me. I immediately squealed at the pinching sensation that reverberated between my not yet moist enough sex. He firmly grabbed the sides of my neck in both of his hands, gazing at me with an intimidating glower. Showing no mercy, he plunged hard and deep inside of me. His hands closed in on my throat, clamping down as he pulled me forward and bit my bottom lip enough to hurt, but not draw blood. Thrusting inside me, deeply, roughly, he increased his pace—hurting me.

My eyes stung with tears. I grimaced as I felt torn apart from within. It didn’t matter about my pleasure. From the look on his face, I knew it was all about pleasing him. I welcomed the physical pain over the crushing emotional onslaught. I craved the carnal desire that fell evident in his piercing gaze. He continued to thrust inside me with motions that were deeply animalistic.