Eoin presses his lips together. “I don’t know, I feel like Freya will probably tell me all the good stuff.”
Luke reaches out and runs his finger along the back of Eoin’s hand. “Maybe, but there’s very little chanceshe’sgoing to go down on you later tonight.”
Eoin blushes, pink blooming under his soft brown cheeks.
I lean back and take another sip of my drink.
They get chatting and Luke is good about including me, but they keep getting lost in each other and soon I’m stuck being the third wheel. I’d go and find my own guy to chat with but my mind circles back to Jude which then reminds me of the note in my pocket. I need to read it.
I stand up and tap Luke on the shoulder. “I’m just going to the restroom.”
Luke nods and I weave my way through the bar, past the couples on tables and the fire fighters who are getting progressively louder with each round of drinks.
Rocky is now intertwined with the blonde, and she’s falling for his romantic Italian act, hook, line and sinker as he presses kisses to her neck. He doesn’t spare me a glance when I walk by, but I still feel like I’m being watched.
I duck into the restroom, go into one of the cubicles and lock the door. A toilet flushes in the stall next to me and footsteps clack across the tiled floor. The white noise of the tap running calms my nerves a little, but I wait till the other person leaves before I take out the note.
My hands shake. The paper is all crumpled now but when I flatten it out the writing is clear. Dark blue ink on a torn scrap of lined paper. It’s like a note you’d get passed in class, but the words are written so hard I can feel the indent of the letters on the other side of the paper. The message sends a shiver down my spine.
Bad things happen when you break promises.
I tilt my head back and stare at the paneled ceiling until my breathing steadies. I think I’m going to be okay. I think I’ve managed to stay in the present but when I close my eyes images flick into my mind, and I’m sucked into a memory.
I watch her, another version of me, standing over the woman tied to the post. The thin silver knife gleams in her hand.
“Come on now Angelica, I’m not waiting all day. Make the cut.” His deep voice is quiet but stern in the open barn. The woman holds herself still, her wide eyes watching, waiting.She’s blonde, like they always are,with a kind face.
The little girl runs her thumb up and down the engraved hilt of the knife. Making people bleed is what she’s been taught to do.
Deep down, I know this is wrong, but I’m not sure she does, not yet.
“I promised I wouldn’t,” she says.
I wince. Part of me is still back in the bathroom stall and I know what happens next. The man that raised her –us –me, grabs her ponytail and yanks back her head.
“Promised who?” he demands.
The little girl’s eyes dart around but she doesn’t say who. She just repeats what she’s been told. “I can’t break my promise. Bad things happen when you break promises.”
Her father snatches the knife from her hand and presses the blade against her t-shirt, his grasp on her hair keeping her close. “Whoever you made thispromise to, bad things are going to happen if you don’t break it.” And with that he slashes the knife down, cutting from her chest to her hip.
I cry out and slide down the stall door to the cold floor, feeling the pain all over again in a burning line on my stomach. I try tofocus on the cool tiles, to pull myself back to reality but I’m still caught in the past.
The little girl is crumpled on the ground now, curled in on herself. The man gets down on one knee and takes off his shirt. He presses the material against the wound to stop the bleeding and strokes her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie, you’re okay. I need you to make a promise to me now though, okay? I need you to promise daddy you’ll always listen to him first, no one else, just daddy. Just me, sweetheart.”
“I promise,” I say as she cries the words and I finally come out of the flashback. The stall door rattles as my shoulders shake. Tears stream down my face. I let it out, knowing that now the crying has started it’s best to get it out of my system when I’m alone, else I’ll end up breaking down in front of River. Again.
After a few minutes the crying slows. I use some toilet roll to dry my eyes before leaving the stall and splashing water on my face. I brace my hands against the ceramic rim of the sink and look at myself in the mirror. My skin is all pale and blotchy, but my eyes are strong. A cool green. I am not broken. I am not a little girl anymore.
So many promises were made back then, but there’s only one I intend to keep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Freya
WHEN I GET back to the bar, Luke and Eoin are leant in close, heads bent together as they talk in low voices.
Josh is at the other end of the bar, studiously ignoring them. My heart hurts for him. I can relate. Love isn’t on the cards for me, no matter how much I may want it. There are times I’ve been tempted to try but I could never bring myself to start a relationship when I was hiding so much. A little voice in my head whispers that that isn’t the case anymore. There are people who know who I really am now. Four of them. Four unfairly attractive FBI agents.
