These Dead Promises Read online

  The answer was, we couldn’t.

  “It’s okay,” he said, grabbing the back of my neck and dropping a kiss on my head. “Go. I’ll text you later.”

  “Thank you, for today. For everything.”

  He gave me a small nod, the invisible tether between us stretching taut. I wanted to go to him. But I didn’t. Instead, I gave him one last lingering look before heading back over to Celeste.

  “All set?” she asked me, noting that Nix didn’t join us.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  “See you soon,” Chloe called after us. I gave her a small wave as I climbed into Celeste’s car.

  “You good?” My sister eyed me carefully.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Pressing my head against the glass, I watched Nix watch me. He reminded me of a predator stalking its prey, biding its time. But he wouldn’t catch me, not this time.

  “Did you two get a chance to talk?”

  “A little.” But there was still so much we hadn’t aired.

  “I’m sorry if I pushed you to come here. I just thought—”

  “It’s okay, Celeste,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to hide or avoid everything, but sometimes it just feels easier, you know.”

  “Yeah. How can I help? Maybe I could speak to Da—”

  “No, don’t do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

  “Okay, sorry.” Her eyes flicked to mine, brimming with apology. “I won’t say anything.”

  “I appreciate your support, Celeste, I do. But I need to do things at my own pace.”

  “Of course. I know I can be a little much sometimes. But it’s only because I care about you, and I want you to be happy. And I know living at the house with us doesn’t make you happy.”

  No, it didn’t.

  But it didn’t matter.

  The simple truth was, I had nowhere else to go. Sure, I turned eighteen in a few weeks, but if I left, the money I had access to would quickly deplete.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Not if I wanted to truly escape Old Darling Hill and my father’s clutches.

  “It’s not like I have much choice,” I murmured.

  “I know.” She sighed. “But it won’t be like this forever. You’re eighteen soon and you graduate next spring.”

  As if I needed any reminder.

  Nine months.

  I just had to survive nine months.

  It wasn’t lost on me that’s how long I’d survived without Nix.

  We drove the rest of the way back to the house in silence. When we eventually drove through the automatic gold-tipped gates, Celeste broke the tension.

  “What are you going to do about Max?” she asked, cutting the engine and twisting around to me.

  “Honestly, nothing. It’s obviously a game to him. I figure it’s better not to provoke him.”

  “Are you sure that’s the right approach? I mean, he’s my brother, yeah. But he’s also a sociopath.”

  A small chuckle left my lips. She wasn’t wrong there.

  “He’s clearly baiting me for leverage.” I shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll let me know what he wants eventually.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this? Go up against Max, I mean?” Concern flitted across her expression.

  “What else would you suggest? Tell Michael about Nix? Because that’s not an option.”

  Not yet at least.

  “Yeah.” She let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right, he wouldn’t like that at all. God, why do things have to be so complicated?”

  “Because our father is a selfish ass who does what he wants with little regard for others?” My brow arched and Celeste spluttered over the breath caught in her throat.

  “I wish I could argue but…”

  “Yeah, I know.” I stared up at the house, the invisible shackles around me already tightening.

  “You know, he isn’t all bad.” I glanced over at Celeste and she gave me a weak smile. “It’s true. Growing up, there would be these small moments. Rare little glimpses of a man who could laugh, have fun, and enjoy life.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” I didn’t think I’d ever seen the man crack a smile, let alone have fun.

  Heavy silence settled over us and I lifted my gaze to hers. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why do you think he brought me here? I mean, he didn’t want me… he didn’t want my mom.” Pain sliced through me.

  He’d killed her.

  Maybe not by his hand, but his abandonment, his cruel treatment, had broken something vital inside her and she’d never recovered.

  I didn’t know much about her life before The Row, before me. She’d rarely talked about it. But I knew enough to know that Michael Rowe had been her world. Trina Maguire hadn’t been like the other kids growing up in Old Darling Hill. Her parents—my grandparents—had died in a tragic accident years before I was conceived. So she’d grown up with her ailing grandmother. They’d had money like everyone else here. But I always got the impression my mom had been a lost soul.

  Until she’d found my father.

  “You’re his daughter, Harleigh. His blood. I know he didn’t do right by your mom… by you.” Pity shone in her eyes, and I hated it. I hated that a man who meant so little to me could still make me feel such things. “But despite what you might think, he isn’t a monster.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  Before I could find the words to answer her, Celeste added, “I know he messed up, but I think in his own way, he thought he was protecting you.”

  “Protecting me? From what? My friends? My…” The words got stuck in my throat as my body shook with frustration. “He took away the one thing I needed most, Celeste. The one person who—”

  I tamped down those dark, dangerous thoughts, anger rising inside me like a tidal wave.

  “I know. Crap, I know.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, tears pooling in her eyes. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I didn’t—”

  “I know.” I inhaled a shaky breath, trying to smother the intense emotions threatening to consume me. I was okay. I was stronger. I wasn’t the same girl I’d been back then when my world had fallen apart.

  “I don’t think he knew you would… hurt yourself. He couldn’t have.”

  It wasn’t easy for Celeste, being stuck in between me and Michael. He’d been there for her. Raised her. Given her everything she could ever want.

  When I’d first arrived at their house, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. My half-sister—the daughter he’d wanted.

  The daughter he’d kept.

  But Celeste had wormed her way into my heart. She was never jealous of me or wary, she was patient and kind and consistent.

  She was there.

  She’d been there for the last nine months whether I wanted her to be or not, and I was grateful. I was. But I also knew we would never agree on some things.

  Like the kind of man our father really was.

  “We should go inside,” I said, shouldering the door.

  “Harleigh, wait, I didn’t—”

  But I’d already climbed out, needing to feel fresh air in my lungs. I loved Celeste, I did. But sometimes, it was too much. Sometimes it was too hard to forget that she’d had the life I should have had. That while I was living in The Row—barely surviving—she was here, playing princess in her pristine white castle.

  It wasn’t her fault, I knew that. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  “Hey.” She caught up to me as I slipped inside the house. “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” I said a little hastily. “I just can’t talk about it right now.”

  “Oh, okay.” Her words were as tight as her smile. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? We could—”

  “Girls?” Michael’s voice clanged through me.

  “It’s us, Dad,” Celeste called.

  “Can you come in here please?”

  She shot me an apologetic look before taking off down the hall.

  I took a second to calm myself. I didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to spend even a second longer than necessary in his presence. But I couldn’t avoid him; not without raising suspicion. And I wasn’t ready to call him out on everything, not yet. Because it would mean ripping open wounds that were barely healed, and I didn’t know how that would affect the shaky progress I’d made.

  “Harleigh?”

  God, he couldn’t just leave me alone. He didn’t sound particularly pissed though, which was a saving grace. Obviously, Max was keeping the truth to himself for now.

  I padded down the hall and entered the kitchen. “What’s up?”

  My father’s brows pinched, that cleft in his chin more prominent as he frowned at me. “Did you have a nice evening?”

  “It was fine.” My lips pursed.

  “We hung out with Miles.”

  “I see.” His gaze swung to Celeste. “Things are getting serious between you and him?”

  “Daddy.” She flushed. “It’s very… new. But it’s Miles. He’s a good guy.”

  “That he is. And Nate Miller, was he there?”

  “Yeah, I’m not doing this,” I said, distaste curling my lip.

  “And what is it you think we’re doing?” Michael studied me, deep and probing as if he was trying to figure me out.

  “This attempt at a father-daughter chat.” Bitterness coated my tongue.

  “We’re just talking, Harleigh.” He smiled. An honest-to-God smile that made my insides shrivel and die. “Is that such a bad thing? That I’m taking an interest in your life?”

  “Whatever,” I murmured. “I’m going to my room.”

  “Harleigh, wait—”

  But I didn’t wait.

  I hightailed it out of there as if the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels. He was deluded if he thought I wanted to bond over boys. I didn’t want anything to do with him. Never had. And that was before I’d found out just how deep his betrayal ran.

  My entire life Michael Rowe had been nothing but the villain in my story.

  That wasn’t ever going to change.

  Nix

  “Wondered when you’d show your face, you little shit,” my old man spat the words as he sat stretched out in his armchair, sipping on a beer.

  “It wasn’t like I took all of it.”

  “I should make you pack up your stuff and get the hell out of here before—”

  “Nix, sweetheart, you’re back.” Jessa appeared, wearing a tentative smile. She glanced between us, her expression falling. “Joe, you promised.”

  “Relax, woman. I haven’t laid a finger on him, have I, kid?”

  Anger rolled up my spine and it took everything inside me not to respond. Jessa touched my arm, demanding my attention. “Did you have a nice time?” Her eyes twinkled.

  She knew.

  She knew exactly who I’d been with and why I’d stolen a bunch of stuff out of our refrigerator.

  “Yeah. It was good, thanks.”

  “That’s nice, sweetie. Real nice. Me and your dad had a nice evening too. In fact, he has some news, don’t you, Joe?” He grumbled something inaudible, but Jessa added, “Go on, baby. Tell him.”

  “Gotta go out of town for a few days next weekend.”

  “And he’s taking me with him. We’re going to the city, Nix.”

  “Albany?” I asked.

  “No, New York City. Isn’t that exciting? I’ve always wanted to go to the Big Apple.” Jessa’s enthusiasm made my skin itch.

  “New York? What business do you have in New York?” I asked.

  “Watch it, kid.” My old man glared at me, annoyance shining in his half-drunk eyes.

  Something didn’t add up. It wasn’t unheard of for him to disappear on business now and again, but he never ventured as far south as NYC. At least, not to my knowledge.

  Joe Wilder was small-town. He wasn’t a city guy.

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea taking Jessa?”

  “Oh, Phoenix,” she cooed. “I’ll be okay, sweetheart. Your dad said while he’s taking care of business, I can go shopping. How about that? Little old me shopping in NYC.” She clasped her hands together and let out a dreamy sigh.

  “That’s… great.” I swallowed over the lump in my throat.

  “You’ll be okay? Home alone for a few nights?”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  My old man snorted at that. “No parties.”

  “Would I ever?”

  His brow quirked up. “I mean it, Nix. Keep your punk ass friends the fuck out of my home.”

  “Yeah, yeah, keep your hair on. I’ve got my first game of the season Friday, so we’ll probably party down at the res.”

  “Ooh, first game of the season. How exciting. You don’t mind if I give this one a miss, do you?” Jessa nudged my shoulder and I managed a weak half-smile.

  “Mind? Why would I mind?”

  It wasn’t like it was unusual for me to not have anyone in the crowd. Sure, Chloe always came to our games, and Ms. Carter if she felt up to it, but I couldn’t remember the last time my old man watched me play. Jessa had dragged him along once or twice in junior high, but we’d gotten into it afterwards.

  He never came again, and I never asked.

  But Jessa had been there sometimes. And when she wasn’t, she’d still cheered me on, celebrating the wins and commiserating the losses with me.

  “You think you’ll get offered a scholarship?” my old man grunted, surprising me.

  He’d never paid any interest before.

  “Coach said it’s a possibility.”

  “Oh, Joe, a scholarship. How wonderful.”

  “They pay for your board too?” He sneered.

  My stomach sank. Of course it came back to whether they’d give me a place to stay or not. Because come graduation, he wanted me gone.

  A ripple of tension went through the air as Jessa looked at me and then to my old man.

  “What’s going on?”

  So he hadn’t told her then.

  Fucking coward.

  “Nothing you need to worry about, baby.”

  “Nix?” She turned to me.

  “Ask him.” I shrugged, moving past her. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Nix—”

  But I was gone. Out of there. So he hadn’t told her, though it wouldn’t change anything. Joe Wilder didn’t listen to anyone, least of all to Jessa. He didn’t listen all the times she’d begged him to stop hitting me, hurting me. And he didn’t listen over the years whenever she’d tried to stand up for me. Fights over school, on the field, around The Row. Growing up, Jessa constantly tried to stand in my corner. But my old man didn’t care. He was never on my side.

  Ever.

  Sometimes, I thought it was a fucking miracle that we’d gotten here, to this point, without killing each other. But I guess he had some shred of conscience left because he hadn’t turned me out on my ass yet. Then again, I probably had Jessa to thank for that.

  I blew through the trailer to my room, slamming the door behind me. Thankfully, I had the benefit of a small private bathroom. Tearing my clothes off, I tramped inside and turned on the shower. Anger vibrated deep inside me and I wanted nothing more than to lash out. To hit something, hurt something. I needed to go to Buster’s. To get in the ring and work off the restless energy zipping around my body like a live wire.

  The tepid water sluiced down my body as I dropped my head against the tile. What I really needed was B. I needed to feel her close, her soft skin and mesmerizing green eyes. She grounded me, always had.

  But she wasn’t here. She was there. My fist slammed against the tile, the water drowning out the thud. She was there, playing happy family with Michael Rowe.

  Thud.

  She was one of them now, even if she didn’t want to be.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Pain exploded in my wrist as I roared into the jet stream, my body shuddering with frustration. Anger and helplessness.

  This life… this fucking life. It was cruel. Unforgiving and brutal. And I was one of the lucky ones. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and a stepmom who cared. A few bruises here and there, a black eye or two, was getting off lightly compared to what some kids in The Row went through.

  Football was my shot at getting out. I knew that. But I couldn’t commit. I couldn’t let myself believe I was good enough. Because I didn’t feel good enough.

  Pressing my hands flat against the tile, I dropped my head, letting the water wash away my sins. My dark, desperate thoughts.

  I needed a plan.

  I needed a fucking way out of this place.

  For me.

  For her.

  For us.

  “You need to snap out of it,” Zane said as we piled out of my car Monday morning.

  “He’s lovesick.” Kye chuckled and I flipped him off.

  “Yeah, well, it was one day. One fucking day and he’s acting like it’s been weeks.”

  “Fuck you, Z. Fuck. You.”

  He had a point though. Harleigh hadn’t been able to get out to meet me yesterday, and it wasn’t for lack of me trying to persuade her.

  It had only fueled the restlessness inside me.

  “Look, I’m happy she’s back, I am. But be realistic, Nix, how the fuck is this gonna work? You’re here, she’s there. You have school, the team, she has… her new family.”

  “Can we not do this?” I shoved my bag up my shoulder. “We have practice. I need to get my head in the game.”

  “Hell yes, you do.” Kye nudged me. “Albany U is your ticket out of here. Harleigh could look into applying and the two of you could ride off into the sunset and never look—” I cut him off with a please-shut-the-fuck-up look, and he shrugged. “Just saying.”

  I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and checked for messages, a bolt of annoyance going through me at the blank screen.

  “Pussy-whipped,” Zane coughed into his hand.

  “You could just text her, you know?” Kye said.

  “He’s trying to play it cool, asshole.”