CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MY PROMISE TO YOU
PAST
STEPHAN
I stepped out of the shower, briskly toweled myself dry, and pulled on fresh boxers and shorts.
Some asshole at the club had barfed on the dance floor, spraying half the crowd, but luckily I'd been close enough to the hotel to run back and change.
I was still shirtless, toweling my hair dry and wondering where I'd left my phone, when I heard Bianca's voice in the adjoining room.
"Ste-Stephan?" she called out haltingly.
I came out of the bathroom, surprised that she was back, and so early. "Hey, Buttercup. Some knucklehead got barf on my shirt, so I had to come back to change." As I spoke, I moved toward her.
The room was dimly lit, but as I got close to her, I caught a clear look at her face.
And went cold, then hot, my heart pounding as I pulled her into my arms.
I knew, just knew, that something was horribly wrong. She looked so lost.
"Oh, Bee, what is it?"
She started sobbing. My heart seized up in my chest, and I began to shake and cry myself.
My strong, stoic angel breaking. It was too much. I couldn't stand it.
What had happened? I was afraid to ask.
I was afraid of what I would do when I found out what had brought her to this state.
"Shh, it will be okay," I soothed. "We will survive it, Bianca. Whatever it is, we'll survive it together."
Someone started pounding at the door to her room.
"Bianca, open the door," James shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
I stopped breathing, my vision going red, head filling with a great, vile, black rage.
"We need to talk," he continued. "Don't lock me out. Open the door. Now."
I held her to me, trying to get a handle on myself, on my temper.
He just kept pounding at the door.
We tried to wait him out.
It became too much for her, and suddenly and violently, she ripped out of my arms, flinging herself onto the floor on the far side of the bed.
She folded her legs up to her chest, leaned her head forward, visibly trembling, and began to rock herself.
I nearly lost my mind.
I was at the door flinging it open to glare at James between one breath and the next.
"Don't do that," I bit out. "She doesn't want to see you. Just look at her!"
James tried to move past me, to her, and I met him head on, shoving my shoulder against his hard enough to bruise us both.
"What have you done?" I panted, trying to shove him out the door.
The bastard was strong, though, and I had to settle for pinning him up against the wall.
He stopped pushing at me, as though he'd given up, and I involuntarily let up on him.
He jerked, trying to get out of my hold.
I contained him again, barely.
He made no move to hurt me, instead trying frantically to get to her.
But that wasn't happening. No way.
I'd been avoiding looking at his eyes, and when I finally met them, they were imploring.
"Just let me see her," he pleaded through his teeth. "I just want to make it better. I'm not here to hurt her, Stephan."
That set me off. "You've already done that! Look at her! What did you do?"
No wait. I didn't need to know, shouldn't know, before he left. I'd really lose it then. "You need to leave!"
"I see her," he said, sounding as tortured as I felt. "Bianca," he called out to her. "Just hear me out. That woman was just a friend."
I felt ill, and so enraged I couldn't contain it. I reared back, then forward, driving my fist into his stomach. I'd have kept going, but now I wanted answers, and a few more hits like that would render him unable to give them. "What woman?" I growled, panting into his face.
"Please, just let me go to her. I can't see her hurting like that. It's killing me."
"So leave. You made her like that, and you need to leave. If she wants to talk to you, she has your number."
"Bianca," he tried again, voice breaking.
I slammed him hard into the wall, putting my elbow to his throat. I knew this left my stomach and sides unprotected, but he didn't take the opening. In fact, he made no move at all to hurt me back, only struggling to get around me.
Over my dead body.
"Just say you'll hear me out, Bianca," he told her. "If not now, then later. But promise me you won't just shut me out completely. Promise me, and I'll leave. If that's what you want."
"I give you my word," she said, her broken voice like daggers on my heart, "Just like you did, when you said we were exclusive."
"Fucker!" I roared, landing another vicious blow to his stomach.
The fucker kept trying. "We were," he gasped. "We are. I never lied to you. I tell you the truth about everything, even when it hurts, because I want you to trust me."
"You said you didn't date," she shot back, a new knot entering her voice, finally some anger to accompany the pain. "That was a lie, since I met your date for tonight."
I cursed, slamming him into the wall. "You bastard," I panted in his face. "You swore to me that you wouldn't hurt her, but I haven't seen her this hurt since the last time her dad got his hands on her."
James went still, then limp, the fight gone out of him. I didn't care. I kept pushing.
The bastard. I'd been so happy to see her finally falling for a guy that I'd pushed her towards it. Towards this.
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him to bleed. I knew I was just one degree away from losing it completely.
"Bianca, please, you can't just leave me. Just agree to talk to me again, when you feel up to it. I'll let you pick the time and place, but I can't just let you go without a fight."
"Fine, if you'll answer one question for me first." Her voice was stronger now, though the tonelessness of it was worrisome in its own right.
"Anything," he agreed without hesitating.
"First, agree not to come near me, so Stephan can let you go."
"If that's what you want."
I didn't want to let him go. In fact, I wanted to put my hands around his neck and start squeezing, but that desire let me know just how necessary it was for me to get away from him.
Abruptly, I let him go, and began to pace, one wary eye still on him, in case he tried to go near her.
With every step away from him, I realized how far I'd gone. I felt sick. I hated violence, but I couldn't seem to escape it; I was a violent man.
"You can come to my house Monday afternoon, at five. We can speak then." Her voice was firm and steady now. And the more she calmed, the more I regretted losing my temper.
"Sooner, please," James had the nerve to press his advantage. "Waiting until Monday will be pure torture."
She shook her head. "No. Monday. Now answer my question."
He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking as helpless as I felt.
"Have you fucked Jules?"
"Yes," he answered.
My hands clenched into fists, and I nearly charged him again.
"But it's been a long time," he added.
"When?" Bianca prodded.
"A year, at least. I'm not sure exactly how long."
"Was it just the one time?" Her tone was pointed now.
He shut his eyes. "No. But it never meant anything, I swear."
"So you've been sleeping with her for years, and you were going on a date with her after I left tonight, and it didn't mean anything?" she questioned.
"I know it sounds bad, but it's not like that. I've known her since high school, and our families have ties that go far back. Her brother, Parker, is a close friend of mine. And she is only a friend to me. I swear it."
"But you obviously fuck your friends." Her voice had gone flat, and I knew she was shutting him out. At this point, she was just building up her case against him.
"Not anymore. Anything I had with her means nothing. It never did."
"And you've only known me for a week," she shot back. "What does that say about us?"
She was done with him, I could tell. I only worried what it had cost her to write him off so quickly.
He wasn't done trying to change her mind. He didn't know her like I did. It was a lost cause now.
"Please don't do that," he implored. "It's different. We're different."
She turned her back on him. "Please go. I'll talk to you on Monday. And please don't be on any of my flights. If you are, I'll work in coach to get away from you."
He stared at her for the longest time, looking so desolate that I almost felt bad for him.
When he finally left, I went to her. I bent down and cradled her into my arms, carrying her to bed. I held her tight, feeling helpless.
When she started crying again, I couldn't stand it, I broke down with her.
But as she sobbed, I realized something. She hadn't completely frozen him out yet. She wouldn't be crying like her heart was breaking, if that were the case.
I didn't know what to think, what to hope for. I couldn't tell from the conversation just how far James's betrayal had gone, and how much of it was a misunderstanding.
I felt disloyal for even questioning it, but I'd had such high hopes for them, for her, that it was hard to just let it go.
She didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't press the issue.
In fact, we barely spoke at all, but on the edge of sleep, when all of the energy had been sobbed out of both of us, I heard her quietly chanting, "You're okay, I'm okay, we're okay."
It broke my heart all over again. I hadn't heard her fall back on that in years.
She was better the next morning, though still not talking about it. I didn't pry, and I had to run interference several times on the smitten Captain Damien.
He was a good friend, and he knew Bianca well enough to see something was wrong as soon as he set eyes on her the next morning.
He shot me a look. I shook my head at him.
"I can tell she's upset. Did she break up with that guy?" he asked me, first chance he caught me without her.
I sighed. "It's not a good time, man. I'd just let it go, if I were you."
I knew he sought her out anyway, tried to offer comfort. I hoped he succeeded, but doubted it was possible.
James had already texted me several times before we even took off that morning.
JAMES: I'm so sorry.
JAMES: Is she okay this morning? Has she said anything?
JAMES: Thank you for taking care of her. For being there for her.
JAMES: Words can't express how much I regret how things went last night.
JAMES: Please believe me when I say that I care for her deeply, and I understand why you'd be upset with me. Things look much different than they are, and I don't blame you for wanting to protect her. I'm sorry it came to that.
JAMES: I'd like to talk to you, when you get a chance.
JAMES: Can I call you?
JAMES: My men tell me she looks pale and drawn. Is she all right? Is she eating? Please make sure she takes care of herself.
When I checked my phone again, after we landed, I saw that he'd tried to call me several times during the flight. I wasn't at all surprised.
I felt torn. I believed him, believed he cared for her deeply, believed he had her best interests at heart.
It felt disloyal, and I debated even speaking to him, but Bianca told me that I should handle him however I saw fit.
She went and crashed for hours after the trip, but I stayed up, looking at my phone and agonizing about what was the right thing to do.
"Will you let me explain my side of what happened last night?" was the first thing he said when I finally took his call.
This was just the thing I'd been worried about. "I'll hear you out, but you need to understand that I won't take anything you say to her. She doesn't want to hear it, not even from me, if that is your angle."
"It's not. I know what you are to her, and I need you to understand what I'm trying to be to her. I respect your role in her life, and I'd like to begin to earn my own place there, as well, because I'm not planning to go anywhere. You and I should not be at odds."
I let out an agitated sigh. He sounded so sincere. Either he was an exceptional actor, or he meant what he said, meant it earnestly. And what reason did he have to lie? Why would he bother?
"Tell me who that other woman was last night," I said grudgingly. "The one Bianca seems to think you're with."
"I'm not! She's an old acquaintance, and that is all. We had a long-standing social engagement for a charity event that happened to fall on last night. I—Stephan you have to understand that I have a past, a sordid one, but it is my past. I've promised Bianca exclusivity, and I will stay faithful to that. She's . . . very special to me. I want to create something lasting with her. That's all that I want."
Fuck. I believed him, and that only made everything more complicated.
"I don't know what to tell you," I said, feeling torn.
"There's no conflict here, Stephan. Talking to me is not disloyal to her. We want the same things for her, you and me."
"You have to know I can't just take you on your word on that."
"I understand. All I want is a chance. An opportunity to earn your trust back, and hers." There was a long sigh on the other end, and then, "I'm in love with her. Completely. Absolutely. I mean to marry her."
My eyes tried to bug out of my head. "She'll run the other way if she hears you talking like that, you know."
"I know. She's skittish. I understand that. Things have happened too fast for her, when I should have taken it slow, but my feelings are real. They aren't going anywhere, and neither am I."
"Why did you tell her you didn't want to date then? Why were you hiding your relationship with her?"
"Every woman I'm seen with undergoes a destructive amount of scrutiny. The press makes things up. They print things about the women that date me, things I'm not sure I can stand to have said about her. I'm protective of her too, Stephan. This is what that was about. Protecting her."
"You've done a shitty job of it."
"Yes, I know. I can do better though. I just need another chance."
"What exactly is it that you think I can do? My loyalty is to her, always; and it's her you need to convince."
"I intend to. But I can see how this works, and I need your blessing here. We both know it."
"Fuck, James. What a mess. I can't give you anything, not as things stand, not until you make it right with her. You hurt her, and you need to fix it."
"Always. I'll always fix it, Stephan. That is my promise to you."