Page 27 of Promise Me Forever


  I would want to be dead too.

  Adam lifted his gun and pointed at the guy’s head as he approached, his arm still wrapped around Cat.

  “I got this, Pearson.”

  The man lifted his hands and moved back a step.

  I looked at Adam, my expression hardening, my voice cold. “Get her out of here,” I snarled.

  “No. No.” Cat shook her head frantically. “Don’t do this, Cash. Please. I need you.”

  My jaw tightened. My eyes flicked to Adam’s. “Leave. Now.”

  He unwrapped Cat’s fingers from the doorframe, his expression grim. She let out a shriek and kicked back at him. My muscles tensed like a tight band, ready to snap any second as Adam wrestled to hold her. I fought to stay still. My fists clenched painfully behind my back. I wanted to rain hell down on everyone, but I held myself in check.

  With a lump in my throat the size of Texas, I watched as Adam heaved Cat up and carried her away. It hit me like a freight train, making me want to puke my guts out. I wouldn’t see her again until a noose was around my neck.

  I wanted to squeeze my eyes closed and block out her cries as Adam carted her through the basement. Her curses mixed with tears, hitting me in the solar plexus and stealing the air from my lungs. I had never felt so helpless before. I didn’t know whether to drop to my knees and scream or throw back my head and roar.

  As the sound of her struggles and cries faded, Frankie stepped into my line of vision. My blood went cold, all my emotions shutting down.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at me. His thick brows drew together.

  There was no help for me now. I was going to die.

  ~~~~

  Frankie rubbed a hand over his chin and stared at me. “Everyone out.”

  The men scrambled to do his bidding. The last man shut the door behind him but Reed stayed, keeping the end of the gun pressed against the bottom of my neck.

  I stared at Frankie through my busted eyes, wondering what hell he was going to put me through now.

  “Let him go, Reed,” he ordered gruffly.

  The gun disappeared from my neck. I could breathe easily again. I still didn’t move. I didn’t trust the fucker in front of me.

  Frankie studied me with a disgruntled frown. I stared at him, my muscles bunched to attack.

  He snorted at the murderous expression in my eyes and strolled behind me to the blanket lying on the floor.

  Blind rage built in me as he leaned over and grabbed it. Bringing it to his nose, he turned back to me and took a big whiff. “Hmmm. Smells like her. Something sweet and heavenly. I’m going to like breaking her in and beating the fight out of her.”

  A low sound erupted from my throat. Something animalistic. Not human. More demon than man.

  Frankie lowered the blanket and raised one bushy eyebrow. “You say something, boy?”

  I curled my lips. “Yeah. Stay the fuck away from her.”

  He grinned and sauntered back to me. “Nah. Don’t think I will.”

  Stopping in front of me, he took another big whiff of the blanket and closed his eyes, enjoying the smell.

  My biceps tightened. The tendons in my neck bulged. I scowled. “You fuc—”

  He dropped the blanket and swung. I never saw it coming. His fist connected with my stomach. I doubled over.

  For an old man, Frankie had the punch of a powerhouse. I had been fucked up by the asshole behind me – Reed – and was still tender. I felt Frankie’s fist all the way to my spine.

  As I breathed through my nose and let the pain roll through me, Frankie smoothed back his hair and looked down at me. “Hold him, Reed.”

  The monster behind me grabbed my arms again and forced me to stand up straight. I gritted my teeth against the pain and glared at Frankie from between my swollen eyelids. “That all you got?”

  Frankie rolled his neck and studied me. “I’ll break you if it’s the last thing I do. Get him on his knees.”

  Reed forced me down. I didn’t go easily but the pain in my stomach got the best of me. My knees hit the cold concrete hard. Sheer agony radiated up my body.

  Frankie grabbed a handful of my hair – that must be his thing – and jerked my head back to look up at him.

  “I want you to grovel.” He hit me in the face. Whack! “I want you to cry.” He hit me again, this time causing blood to spurt from my nose. “I want you to shit your pants with fear and beg for your life and hers.” He hit me again, this time in the cheekbone that was already screaming with pain. “I want you to bleed like my son and scream like he did when they tried to dig that bullet out of him.”

  His knuckle connected with my temple. My brain rattled in my skull. I wavered on my knees. Blackness wavered at the corners of my vision but I shook it away. If I passed out, Frankie would kill me. Hell, he was going to kill me anyway. But I wouldn’t go by his hand. I wouldn’t give him that pleasure. A rope was much better.

  He punched me a fifth time then a sixth. Blood filled my mouth.

  “You got nothing to say, boy?” he grumbled, pulling my hair by the roots and forcing me to look at him. “Hmmm?”

  When I kept my mouth shut, he backhanded me. I would have fallen over if Reed didn’t grab me and hold me up.

  Frankie let out a frustrated snarl, disgusted with my stony silence. I knew it made people sweat. Half the time its why I did it. But mostly it was just me being me. Nothing was going to change that.

  Reed let me go and stood stoically behind me. I swayed on my knees but stayed upright. I was dizzy as shit but still had my wits about me. At the first sign of weakness from Frankie or the beast behind me, I would take it.

  Gladly.

  Frankie started pacing in front of me. I kept my eyes on him and spit a mouthful of blood on the floor. So far, he hadn’t got to me but that was about to change.

  “Get him up,” he muttered to Reed, rubbing at the whiskers on his chin, deep in thought.

  Reed jerked me to my feet. I winced. Shit, I couldn’t help it. The room spun and those black spots in my vision turned into splotches. I blinked and cleared them away. If it was my last day on earth, I was going to stay conscious as long as possible.

  Frankie glanced over at Cat’s shoes, left where she had taken them off last night. My back stiffened, wariness putting me on edge.

  He stopped in front of me and looked me up and down. “So tell me – did you fill her belly with a baby last night? Will she grow round with your son in nine months?” He smiled and took a step closer. “Don’t worry. If you did, I’ll raise it as my own once you’re dead. I’ll teach him to lead this army and I’ll call him my son. He will be in good hands and so will she. I promise.”

  The fiery pits of hell couldn’t be as bad as his words. I bared my teeth and shot toward him but Reed grabbed my shoulder and jerked me back.

  Frankie chuckled. “Ah, there’s your sore spot.”

  I became a feral animal, struggling to get free from Reed’s hold. I wanted to kill Frankie. No one threatened my unborn child, whether Cat was pregnant or not.

  Frankie watched me with amusement. “That bother you, boy, the thought of me raising your son? You don’t like the idea of me running my hands over your woman’s tummy, feeling your baby growing right there? Vulnerable. So small and tiny.”

  I growled and yanked at my bindings, wanting to tear him apart limb by limb.

  Frankie spread his legs and looked down his nose at me. “Beg.”

  I went still, my heart racing a mile a minute. My face went white. I could feel all the blood drain from my body. It’s what he wanted – to see me plead. Fuck, I didn’t know if I could do it. But for Cat and a baby that may not even exist, I would do anything.

  Swallowing hard, I said the words. “Don’t. Please.”

  Frankie cupped a hand around his ear. “I can’t hear you. Say it again.”

  I wanted to kill him over and over again just to see him suffer. Instead, I ate my pride. For Cat. God, for our baby
that she might be carrying now. “Kill me. Just don’t touch her or my child if she’s pregnant. Let them go free.”

  Frankie smiled. “And?”

  I swallowed, knowing what else he wanted. “I killed your son.”

  Frankie walked up to me and slapped me on the back. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

  I felt vomit rising in my throat. He gave me another solid pat on the back. I stood motionless, feeling every last hope leave me.

  The heavy door opened. I flicked my eyes up, disinterested. Adam walked in.

  His face blanched when he saw me. I must’ve looked like crap. I looked at him bleakly, hoping he could read my mind because I sure as hell needed him to get Cat out of town as quickly as possible. The thought of her being pregnant and Frankie claiming my child made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to vomit on his shoes but I had nothing in my stomach but fear and whiskey. It was a foreign feeling for me – this vulnerability – but only concern for Cat could make me experience it so heavily.

  Adam recovered from his shock and a mask of indifference fell over his face. He sauntered into the room with a relaxed gait as if he was going for a morning stroll. “All set, boss,” he said to Frankie with a laidback tone.

  Frankie turned to face him, the wrinkles on his leathery face deepening as he frowned. “Where’s the girl?”

  Adam shrugged and kept on walking. “I handed her off to Montague. Her and the kid are down in the yard just like you ordered. Front and center for this little dog and pony show.”

  Who the hell is Montague?

  “Everything is ready?” Frankie asked in a gruff voice.

  Adam stopped in front of him. “Yeah. Crowd is gathering out front. Everyone is here just like you wanted.”

  Frankie nodded. “Good. They want retribution and they will have it.” He headed to the door, saying over his shoulder. “Reed, come with me. Adam, bring the prisoner out in ten minutes. I need to prepare.”

  Adam crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me as Reed went around me. The big man hit my shoulder with his as he walked by, muttering, “fuckhead,” under his breath. I glared at his back as he followed Frankie out of the room.

  As soon as the door closed, I looked at Adam and hissed, “Where is she?”

  He looked at the bruises on my face and the blood under my nose. “You look like shit again. Can you not stay out of trouble?”

  I shot toward him, tired of beating around the bush. “Where is Cat?”

  Adam didn’t move. For all his smartass remarks, he could be as cold as a dead fish sometimes.

  “Her and Tate are with one of my guys. She’s safe,” he said.

  I swore softly. Was he a moron? Did he live in la-la land? “Safe? What does that mean? Her and the kid aren’t safe here at all.”

  Adam didn’t blink. “She’s okay. Trust me.”

  Shit, I had no choice.

  I took a deep breath. “Fine. Get her out of town and…hell…I need you to—”

  Adam interrupted, not moving one muscle. “I know and I will.”

  But I still had to say it for my own peace of mind.

  “Stay with her and make her happy. She deserves it after all she’s been through. Keep her safe and if…if she’s pregnant…” Christ, I couldn’t even finish the rest of the sentence.

  Adam didn’t bat an eye. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  I swallowed past the solid lump in my throat and squared my shoulders. “Then let’s do this.”

  I walked past him and headed toward the door, my hands tied behind my back and my face feeling like someone had taken a meat hammer to it.

  “You that eager to die?” Adam called out, turning around to watch me.

  I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him. “Do I have much choice?”

  He didn’t move or answer my question. Instead, he said the one thing that got my attention. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Thirty–Six

  Cat

  I tried not to wail and sob. What I did do was fight.

  Adam carried me out of the basement but not without receiving some scratches and a bitten finger.

  “You little witch!” he roared when I clamped down on his digit. It was there as I struggled against him to get free so I latched on.

  In anger, he wrapped his other arm around my chest and covered my mouth with his huge palm, carrying me facing away from him in front of his body. I attempted to bite his hand too but he smashed my lips so hard against my teeth, I couldn’t move them without hurting myself.

  I raised quite a ruckus as he carried me through the courthouse and out into the bright sunlight. My teeth started chattering and shivers shook my body as the cold air of early morning washed over me. But nothing would stop me from trying to get free.

  I kicked and screamed behind Adam’s hand as he carried me down the courthouse steps. Panic at Cash dying made me wild, impossible to control.

  Adam grunted when I got a good kick to his shin but when I saw all the people gathered in the town square, I became immobile.

  There had to be a hundred of them. All I could do was stare. The sun blinded me. A cold wind went straight through my dress and lifted the hem above my knees. I could care less. They’re all here to see Cash hang.

  My face paled. I didn’t need a mirror to know it. My breaths came out in quick puffs of foggy air. Adam pushed his way through the crowd, holding me on his hip like a rag doll. And that’s how I felt. Boneless, my arms and legs flopping uselessly against his body.

  He didn’t say anything which was bad in itself. It meant he could feel it too – the underlining current that something awful was about to happen and we had no way to stop it. It seemed to permeate the air and cause the little hairs on my arm to stand up.

  “Where’s my brother?” I managed to ask, my voice meek and afraid, just a whispered breath.

  “Here,” was his answer, spoken with a curt nod at the crowd.

  Men in hunting jackets and women in old-fashioned flowery dresses and heavy coats turned to look at us. They frowned. They scowled. One or two spit at Adam’s feet. He ignored them and moved on, toward the front of the gathering. My gaze swept over everyone, terrified, looking for a friendly face.

  There were none.

  The crowd’s animosity was too thick, the looks too hostile. I clung to Adam’s neck like a monkey, practically climbing up his body. He grunted and pulled me back down.

  “Stop it,” he ground out.

  I calmed down except for my racing heart. It pounded like a jackhammer out of control. Every breeze or murmured voice seemed like it was coming from far away. They’re going to kill Cash. They’re going to kill Cash.

  The words replayed in my head as Adam pushed his way through the throng of people, carrying me. Near the front of the crowd he drew to a stop in front of a big man with pitch black hair and caramel colored skin. “We set?”

  The big Latino man nodded. “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “Good.” Adam set me on my feet and gave me a push toward the man. “Watch her.”

  The man caught me as I fell against his huge, plump stomach. He must have been one of the soldiers that served with Adam in the military. Adam said some of them still took orders from him.

  I scrambled off the man and spun around to plead with Adam to help Cash but the Latino caught my arm with thick, stubby fingers. “Un momento, chica.”

  Panicking, I tried to tug away. “No. I need to talk to Adam.” He was Cash’s only chance. But the man wouldn’t let me go.

  “You stay,” he said in heavily-accented English.

  My breath burst in and out of me. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I needed to find help. I couldn’t just sit here and wait.

  Grass poked up between my cold toes. My shoes were back in the basement but that was the least of my problems. I wrapped my arms around my middle and shivered violently. Help. I need help. I glanced back, looking for Adam but he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. All I could se
e was handmade stocking hats and dirty ball caps, most of the owners glaring at me. I searched for a friendly face. Mary? David?

  “Sis!”

  I whirled at the sound of the voice, going light-headed with happiness. “Tate!”

  He was rushing around the Latino, pushing him out of the way. His long hair was damp and combed back off his high forehead, worry in his eyes.

  “Oh God, I’m so happy to see you,” I said, wrapping my arms around him as soon as he was close.

  He leaned over and buried his face in my hair, his tall, lanky body almost toppling me over. “Are you okay? I worried about you all night. What happened? Where were you?”

  New tears filled my eyes, soaking into his jacket. “I’m fine. I was with Cash last night. Are you okay?”

  He shook his head, sniffing. “No. They’re going to hang him, Cat. They took my knife and I…I don’t know what to do to help him.”

  I clutched him tight. “I know,” I whispered against his shirt. It was spotless and smelled like flowers. Mary. She would’ve made sure he ate and given him clean clothes. I sent a silent thank you to her wherever she was.

  “Here, chica.”

  I let go of Tate as the Latino nudged my arm. He was holding a hoodie out to me. It was faded blue and didn’t look warm enough to protect against the chill. The man nudged my arm again with it, urging me to take it. I looked down at it with disgust. I would rather feel the bite of cold on my skin than take anything that belonged to Frankie or his men.

  The Latino nodded at the hoodie in his hand. “You’re gonna need it. It’s cold.”

  A powerful shiver shook me but I stuck my chin up anyway and glared at the man. “I don’t want anything that comes from Frankie.”

  Tate let out a frustrated sigh. Grabbing the jacket, he yanked it from the Latino and thrust it at me. “Take the damn jacket, Cat. Don’t you think Cash or Nathan would want you to if they were here right now?”

  Pain squeezed my heart. If our older brother, Nathan, were alive, he would grumble at me for being stubborn and stare at me until I gave in. And Cash? Cash would tell me in that smooth voice he had to put the jacket on before he made me.