Her Dangerous Promise - Part 1: (Romantic Suspense Serial) Read online

  Mary found a disposable comb in the basket of sample sized complimentary grooming products the hospital so thoughtfully supplied. Working rhythmically through the tangles one at a time, starting at the bottom and progressing upward, helped Mary slip into a meditative mindset. “One thing at a time,” she muttered. “We’ll just deal with it one thing at a time.”

  She blinked. Since when did she start thinking in terms of we? “I’m mean, I’ll deal with it one thing at a time.”

  Mary removed the bandages from her wrists, not permitting herself to look at the marks beneath. Armed with her mini shower supplies, Mary indulged in a long, hot, soapy shower. As if the memory of the past night stained her skin, she scrubbed every part of herself three times for good measure. She completely used the bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Three slips of soap disintegrated in the ordeal but Mary emerged from the shower, cleansed and renewed. At least, mostly so.

  She wrapped a large fluffy towel around her. After fishing a fresh comb out of the samples, she combed out her wet hair. Shower steam fogged the mirror and she left it that way while she worked. While she brushed her teeth, she contemplated her blurry reflection. The terror from the previous day had twirled down the drain with the dirt, she decided. She would emerge from this bathroom reconstructed back to good old Mary Seeton, a merry third grade teacher. Thom would see for himself how fine she was and let the whole ugly matter drop and who knows, maybe he’d turn his charm tactics toward getting a date with her instead. They could just pretend they met some other way and move on from there. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you lady?” Mary asked her hazy reflection and then she answered, “A girl can daydream. Can’t I just pretend that handsome man is just interested in me and not in picking my brains?”

  Mary grabbed a washcloth. “Okay, Mary, let’s see how you did.” With sweeping strokes, Mary cleaned the fog off the mirror. As she evaluated her freshly cleaned self, Mary felt new tears stinging her eyes.

  Emerging bruises darkened her neck into purple streaks. Finger marks, she thought. Like an unexpected clap of thunder, the attack boomed in her memory. Sudden and vicious, the crushing grip choked off her breath. Too stunned to fight back, she’d not even scratched at the fingers before he’d slammed her forward into a car door. That blow caught her in the chest and would have knocked the wind out of her, if not for the stranglehold. The next time her head collided with the side panel. Sparkles burned like tiny novas before her eyes and then the fast drop into darkness.

  Mary gasped, gripping the sink. She’d been holding her breath throughout the memory. Her vision of the bathroom was blurred but from tears and not from the lack of oxygen.

  As she stared down at her hands clutching the sink, she noticed the marks on her wrists. She’d avoided them when she’d removed the bandages but now she checked them closely. The rope or whatever had gnawed into her skin, leaving a ring of deep abrasions.

  Even worse than the appearance of her wrists and neck, the aches that lingered on her flesh felt like ghosts of the original occurrence. It was as if she still wore invisible bonds. As if some part of her attacker still held her by the throat. As if these were physical reminders of her promise and of her captor’s continued control over her. She might have run away from him but she wasn’t free of him.

  And she never would be.

  The crushing weight of reality smashed the fragile fantasies born of her denial. Mary slouched against the wall and slid to the floor. How could she support this burden she’d accepted? How could she ever find a moment of peace or happiness ever again? Sitting on the floor, with her knees drawn up to pillow her head, Mary surrendered to the despair, letting it absorb into every cell of her being. No longer fighting it, Mary allowed herself to feel all the emotions that hammered at her, let them spin her around like a drunken twister and dump her unceremoniously in the rubble it left in its wake.

  As the turmoil passed, Mary raised her head. In her entire life, she’d never experienced a true tragedy. No hurricane had leveled her neighborhood. No flood had washed away her home. No terrorist strike ever touched someone she knew. She’d survived this attack on her. Although she regretted her promise and always would, she could survive that too. As long as she kept her word, everything would be fine. She could handle this alone. She would handle it.

  Once she regained her composure and washed the tears from her face, Mary cracked open the bathroom door. A neat pile of folded clothes waited on the floor just outside. A pair of running shoes topped the pile and according to the hospital gift shop tag they were the right size.

  She dressed in the same blue colored scrubs she’d seen the nurses wearing. Fortunately, the loose clothing hid the fact she lacked underwear. The unusual sensation of clothing brushing so intimately against her made her feel kind of sexy in an indefinable way she didn’t want to analyze. She didn’t normally wear shoes without socks but wasn’t about to complain. When she’d pulled herself together as much as she could under the circumstances, Mary finally emerged from the bathroom.

  Thom turned his attention from people watching out of the window toward her and smiled. The effect of that sexy smile cast an unexpected ray of light on her heart. “Everything fit?”

  “One size fits all, isn’t it?” Mary gestured to the drawstring tying her pants snugly over the tucked in top. His gaze followed her gesture and then roamed the length of her. Mary felt herself blushing. “Thank you for the shoes. If you’ll tell me how much they cost, I’ll—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” A tad huskier tone colored his voice. Their eyes met, his appreciation of her appearance evident in his expression, and he cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded and headed for the door.

  “What about your flowers?”

  Mary froze, not turning back to even enjoy them one last time. “Tell the nurses they can have them.”

  “Okay,” Thom mumbled, mostly to himself.

  Much to her relief, Thom didn’t start grilling her on the ride home. Instead, he chitchatted pleasantly about nothing consequential. Unlike Mary, Thom grew up in Stony Bend. As he drove his SUV along the winding route through the neighborhoods, Thom pointed out various landmarks, mostly those that had played a role in his misspent youth. Apparently, the majority of his formative years involved poorly constructed bike ramps, trees with notoriously wobbly branches and ill-fated forays onto slippery rooftops. Most of his tales ended with the footnote that he still bore the scar.

  Mary tried not to smile but lost that battle. “I feel sorry for your teachers. They must have had to keep a close eye on you just so you wouldn’t kill yourself.”

  “I was on a first name basis with the school nurse.”

  Mary laughed. “I can believe that. I bet your teachers sent a lot of notes home.”

  “Naturally. My mother kept them all too. She likes to pull them out at family gatherings.”

  “Now you are exaggerating. I’m sure she is very proud of you.”

  Thom shrugged. “According to her, she is reserving the right to parental pride for when I settle down and give her some grandchildren.”

  Grandkids, of course. With looks like his, a girlfriend or fiancé had to be lurking in the picture somewhere.

  Mary nibbled at her lower lip. “And, are you working toward that goal? Got the girl picked out?”

  His grin touched his eyes with a sparkle of suggestion. “Not yet but I’m accepting applications.”

  Despite the detour, the trip ended much too quickly for Mary. Thom coasted to a stop in front of her house. “Here are your keys.” Thom tugged the jingling mass, overloaded with keys she needed for school, from his pants pocket.

  He’d carried her keys in his pocket. Somehow, that seemed more intimate than when he’d covered her with the blanket. Usually, complete strangers didn’t tuck you into bed
or tote around your keys. Although, they were not complete strangers anymore. After hearing Thom’s tales of his childhood, Mary felt she knew him a little. Enough to decide that she liked him as a person. All except the nosy cop part that he apparently could turn on and off. If he left it off, Mary could see herself entertaining some interesting possibilities when it came to the hunk with burning jade eyes sitting beside her.

  As Mary closed her hand around her keys, her fingers stroked Thom’s. She jolted at the slight contact like someone kicked the back of her seat. Electric, she thought. Or did they call it magnetic? Either way, the chemistry sparking between them grew explosively with each lingering second until she tugged her keys free.

  Reluctantly turning from Thom, Mary stared at the dark windows of her house. Usually, the sight of her bungalow style home filled her with warmth and satisfaction. She’d scrimped to buy it herself, without even asking her parents to loan her the down payment. She loved the happy yellow siding and gingerbread style accents. She’d stopped short of erecting a white picket fence but she hadn’t ruled out that possibility. As Mary scanned the windows—the eyes of the home the Realtor called them—a shiver prickled down her back. Irrationally, she felt certain that someone lurked inside. Watching. Waiting for her to come in alone.

  “Thom, I… um…” The curtain of the living room window swished. Someone was inside. “Did you see that?”

  “Give me your keys,” he ordered, drawing his sidearm. “And stay in the car.”

  ###

  Thank you for reading Episode 1 of Her Dangerous Promise!

  Get Episode 2 from Amazon here.

  ~A taste of~

  Episode 2 of

  Her Dangerous Promise

  Outside the glass door, the faculty parking lot appeared still. This morning even with the activity of arriving teachers, Mary hadn’t had the courage to face the site of her attack. Only with Thom watching over her had she managed that extraordinary feat.

  Now there was no one. No teachers. No parents. No Thom.

  At least no one she could see. Her attacker could be waiting, lurking behind a car or crouched behind a bush.

  He watched her every move, just like Thom had warned that he would. He followed her back to school. Saw the children in her class. Waited for his chance to strike. He almost certainly lurked in the parking lot, expecting her to make a run for it.

  Better to lead him away from the school and the kids than to risk him punishing her by hurting one of her students. She must leave school now and never come back. Maybe then the children would be safe.

  Mary dug her keys out of her pocket. With her car key poised at the ready, she ran flat out down the walkway to the parking lot. She darted between the cars, running for her own white Subaru.

  Once she reached it, her hands trembled as she fought to stab the key into the lock. Was it her imagination, or did she hear footfalls in the parking lot? Her skin tingled as she expected to feel the strangling hands closing around her throat. Choking. Choking.

  Mary stifled a sob of relief as her key finally slipped into the lock. She swung open the door and practically dived in. The forgotten cup of coffee from that morning tipped, sloshing on the floor. Without thinking, Mary snatched the cup and flung it outside before slamming and locking the door.

  Fumbling with the keys, Mary dropped them on the floor. She snatched them up and crammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life. She shoved it into reverse with a terrible grinding sound and then stomped on the gas and lurched backward out of the parking space. Barely hitting the brakes long enough to shift gears, she slammed it into drive and peeled out of the lot like a scalded dog.

  Giving no heed to the speed limit, Mary raced away from the school. A moment later, the squeal of tires shattered the peaceful suburban atmosphere. In the rearview mirror, she saw a monstrous dark truck lunge after her.

  It was him. He was coming after her. Thom had been right. He was never going to leave her alone.

  Mary hit the gas and sped away, with the dark truck closing in behind her. Its larger engine roared like a hell hound running down its prey. As she jerked around a corner, Mary glanced back at the truck. She couldn’t see the driver, just the flash of the bright headlights aimed at her. It flew around the corner without even slowing down.

  “Go away!” Mary screamed. Her heart slammed in her chest as fast as the pistons in her engine.

  The truck accelerated, swerved out into the passing lane and raced up beside her. It honked wildly at her. Menacingly, it inched into her lane, squeezing her car toward the curb. On instinct, Mary hit the brakes. The truck shot past her, spun in a wild U-turn and drove on the wrong side of the street straight for her.

  ###

  Continue the adventure!

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