Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(54)
Author: Monica Murphy

I dig through my purse and hand him a twenty and a five as I exit the car, slamming the door behind me. He takes off with a roar, leaving me alone on the sidewalk, the night seeming to close in on me. It’s cool, the sky is dark and moonless, and the street is quiet. Past ten o’clock, and pretty much everyone has gone to bed since it’s mostly families who live on this street.

Colin and I are the exception. We’re definitely not family. Not even close.

Starting up the front walk, I pull out my key and unlock the door. As soon as I enter the house, car lights from outside illuminate the still dark interior and I hear the garage door start to open. My stomach drops into my toes and my mouth goes dry.

Colin’s home.

Swallowing hard, I try to fight off the wave of nausea that threatens and head to the kitchen, where I pour myself a glass of water. I chug it down, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and brace myself against the kitchen counter as I wait for him to enter the house.

Better to face him head on than run off and hide in my room. Not that I’m staying long anyway. He’ll no doubt kick me out and I’ll end up going to Sacramento early. I bet Jason would help me out if I asked him. Maybe I could break down and spend the money to rent a moving truck. I’ll call my new roommate first thing tomorrow and see if I can move in a few days sooner. I have a feeling she won’t mind. This way I can get settled and find a job right away.

Hopefully.

Finally, Colin enters the house, stopping short when he sees me leaning against the kitchen counter. “How did you get here?”

No hi, I was worried, just a how did you get here, like he doesn’t want me in his house any longer. Oh, how quickly our attitudes change! “I took a taxi.”

“A taxi?” he asks incredulously. “How did you find a taxi downtown?” They’re usually pretty scarce, so I understand his questioning.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. Why are we even having this inane conversation? “He was a few blocks down from the restaurant and off duty. I climbed into his car anyway and asked him to drive me here, so he did.”

“Jesus.” He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I swear to God, your risky behavior is going to get you into serious trouble someday. He could’ve hurt you.”

“I’m a big girl. Besides, didn’t I get my quota in this week already when it comes to being attacked by creepy strangers?” I sound like a smug little bitch but I can’t help myself. When I feel cornered, I get defensive.

He stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “We need to talk,” he says slowly.

“What about?” I lift my chin, going for defiance, but my entire body begins to tremble. I’m this close to falling completely apart.

“About what you did when you worked at Gold Diggers.” He flicks his head toward the direction of the living room. “Let’s go sit down.”

I brace my hands against the edge of the countertop, icy dread slithering down my spine. How did he find out? I know he knows, and I can hardly stand it. “I don’t want to. Let’s talk here.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Resting his hands on his hips, he glances around the darkened kitchen. The only light on is the one over the sink. He’s frustrated, I can tell. I know him almost as well as I know myself, though I would never have figured he’d react to my secret like this.

Maybe I was foolish to believe he would be more understanding. Maybe it has something to do with the way he found out and not the actual information itself. I should have been the one who told him and I didn’t. Someone else beat me to the punch.

I’m at a loss, though, unsure how to explain myself.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the dirty details.” A shudder moves through me, and his eyes narrow. “Not that there are many dirty details . . .” My voice trails off. I’m trying to defuse the situation and not doing a very good job of it.

“Did you sleep with men for money?” He asks the question so quietly, so suddenly, I need to grip the counter tighter for fear I’ll slither to the floor. My knees are reduced to jelly by his words, by the look on his face. I wish I could just disappear and forget all of this ever happened.

“What are you talking about?” I whisper, trying to stall. Desperate to stall. I can’t lie to him. I have to tell him the truth or I’d never forgive myself. He wouldn’t believe me if I denied it anyway. He’s already made his assumptions and I’m living up to them.

“Answer me.” He raises his voice, the sound sending goose bumps scattering over my arms, and I part my lips. No sound comes out.

I can’t deny it because it’s true.

“Did you?” he asks again, his voice rough, his eyes full of agony as he storms toward me. He grabs me by my upper arms, his hold firm as he gives me a little shake. “Tell me, God damn it! Did you, Jen?”

I jump when he yells at me, wincing at the fury behind his words. Tears fill my eyes, momentarily blinding me, and then they’re flowing down my cheeks, dropping from my face onto the floor. “Yes,” I sob, my chest threatening to burst. “I did, okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I f**ked around with other men and they paid me?”

His eyes go wide and I swear they shimmer with tears. Actual freaking tears, and I’ve never seen this man cry beyond the dry sobs in his dreams.

But are those tears for me? Or for the fact that he failed me and broke his promise to my brother? To my family? “God Jen, I can’t believe . . . why? Why the hell would you do that? What would your parents think? Or Danny?”

Tearing myself out of his hold, I back away from him, shaking my head. “Don’t put all that guilt on me. I do that well enough on my own, trust me.”

“You know you could’ve called them. They would’ve helped you. You’re their daughter.” He stresses the last word, and that only pisses me off further.

“Give me a break! They forgot all about me once Danny died. So wrapped up in their grief, he was all they could talk about. You’re the same way, with your nightmares about him. He’s always hovering in everyone’s mind, and I get it. He’s in mine, too. But he’s gone. We have to keep on living,” I cry, wondering how my speech changed track.

“So by living, does that mean you go out doing whatever the hell you want and getting paid for it?”

His words are like a slap in the face. I rear back, my cheeks stinging with embarrassment. He immediately realizes his mistake and starts toward me, but I shake my head, my body vibrating with anger.