Black Promises: A Dark New Adult Romance Page 5

  You know, just murdering someone together. Usual kid shit.

  “There’s nothing going on.”

  “I saw the way you looked at her the other day. Honestly, Jarrod, unless I knew better, I’d guess you felt something.”

  “Good thing I have no emotions.”

  “That’s right, good thing.” She let out a breath and glanced toward the hallway. “Think he’s done for the night?”

  “I’ll be home, don’t worry.”

  She shifted in her chair. “It’s not that. I’m afraid for you, too. One day he’ll go too far.”

  “I can handle him.”

  “I know you can. That’s the problem. He’s not some teenager you can beat senseless.”

  “That’s right, he’s an old, abusive prick.”

  She grimaced and looked down at her hands. “I hate him too, you know. But he’s still my dad.”

  “I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all. The way you’ve been lately—”

  I waved her off. I didn’t want to have this conversation again. She’d been on my ass about the drinking and the fighting for months now, and I was sick of the lectures.

  Yes, it was self-destructive.

  Yes, I’d probably end up at the bottom of a shallow grave.

  No, I really didn’t give a shit about myself.

  Any other questions?

  It was better if we could avoid the subject entirely.

  “Shout if you need me.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  I left her room and went back to mine. I slammed the door shut and locked the deadbolt I’d installed a couple of years back. Nobody had the key but me, and despite Uncle Bernard’s constant threat to take the door completely off its hinges, it was still my best defense against my psychopath uncle and his constant need to make my life hell.

  I put my clean clothes away, then turned on my laptop and fired up my speakers. Drake’s new album blared out, drowning away the negative thoughts swirling through my skull. I grabbed a pocketknife from my nightstand, then knelt next to my bed. I used the blade to pry up a floorboard and gently set it aside on the rug.

  I folded up the contract and stuck it inside. Then I reached in and took out a plain black Android phone, fresh from the packaging, and booted it up. I put the floorboard back, then reclined on my bed with my laptop open and the phone in my lap.

  I texted Cora.

  Jarrod: What are you wearing right now, freak?

  She didn’t answer right away. Probably confused by the number she didn’t recognize. I turned on my laptop’s VPN then started to do some research.

  Dr. Silver was a model citizen. That immediately got my hackles up. The little shit donated to multiple different charities, most of them focused on helping children, and even sat on the board of a nonprofit clinic focused on providing affordable care to underprivileged members of the community. I didn’t know who the fuck was underprivileged in this affluent area, but there was probably somebody.

  My burner phone buzzed.

  Cora: Jarrod?

  Jarrod: That’s right, freak. Don’t save this number. Actually, you should get a burner phone and a freaking VPN.

  Cora: What’s a VPN?

  I groaned. We were going to fucking jail.

  Jarrod: It’s a way to hide your internet activity.

  Cora: Okay, right, I’ll figure that out. And I should get a burner?

  Jarrod: Every few weeks.

  Cora: Sounds like a lot of work.

  Jarrod: Sounds like you want to go to prison.

  Cora: Fine, okay, whatever. I’ll get a burner.

  Jarrod: Get it tonight. Find me on campus tomorrow and give me the number.

  Cora: OKAY!

  I smiled and tossed my phone aside. Freak was going to get us caught, but at least I’d have some fun before I rotted in prison for the rest of my life.

  As I scrolled through positive story after positive story about Dr. Silver, I reflected on why the fuck I was doing this.

  Cora tempted me. That was obvious. The moment I got near her, I wanted to taste her delicious, tight, little body. I was half-hard just thinking about stripping her naked and teasing her until she screamed with pleasure and delight and pain. I wanted to make her hurt and make her come all at once in a bewildering explosion of sensation.

  But I also wanted to murder that pedophile fuck.

  I didn’t know where this overwhelming desire for justice came from. It must’ve been the same impulse that made me step in every time I heard Uncle Bernard about to beat up Robyn. It had been the reason I’d done it back when I’d been small and had taken the full force of his wrath instead of letting Robyn get hit. These days it was easier to get involved, but back then it had taken a lot of balls.

  Back then, I’d had a lot of bruises. I’d had to get good at hiding.

  Dr. Silver deserved whatever he got. The piece of garbage had the gall to present himself in public as some fine, upstanding citizen and protector of children and the vulnerable and some shit, while simultaneously ruining lives with his sick, twisted sexual needs.

  I could almost understand why her parents hadn’t believed her. It’d be hard to fathom that a guy like Dr. Silver would do something so brutally horrible, especially to your own child—and yet there was no part of me that questioned Cora’s story.

  Maybe I should’ve pressed her. She wanted me to murder the guy, after all, and the least I could do was make sure he was guilty.

  I had no interest in playing that game.

  Cora had said he’d done it, so he’d done it. People didn’t lie about that sort of thing, especially not when the stakes were so unfathomably high.

  Dr. Silver had to die. There was no question in my mind.

  He was too well-positioned to keep doing this shit over and over and over.

  The only question was how I’d pull it off.

  6

  Cora

  Buying a burner phone was surprisingly easy. My parents didn’t even ask why I left the house on my bike at seven and came back an hour later half frozen from riding in the cold.

  I got the phone set up then signed up for a VPN on my laptop.

  Jarrod was right. I hated to admit it, but I’d been doing all this stuff out in the open for the past few years. I cringed thinking what kind of footprint I’d left. When we finally ended Dr. Silver, I only hoped that the detectives assigned to his case didn’t come searching for me, because I was sure they’d find something incriminating.

  But at least I could try to do better now.

  The next day I met Jarrod outside of his history class before it started and shoved a piece of paper with my burner number on it. He barely glanced at me twice, but put the scrawled note in his pocket as he brushed past.

  My stomach did flips as I sat in the library, leg bouncing, waiting for him to message.

  I was really doing this.

  I was going to help Jarrod murder a man. Dr. Silver would finally pay for what he did to me and my brother all those years ago, and no matter what happened afterward, at least I could live the rest of my life knowing I did the right thing.

  That I saved countless victims from his slimy fingers.

  I shivered and stared out the window of the library, and didn’t notice a figure sit down across from me. I looked over and nearly screamed.

  Calvin Solar stared at me with an uncanny intensity.

  Of the Four Horsemen (another version: The Four Horsecocks), he was the strangest. Not that it impacted his popularity at all; in fact, if anything, his mysterious, stand-offish nature made women want him even more and men feel like they had to prove themselves around him, as if he were judging them silently.

  I didn’t know what to make of him, and definitely didn’t know what the hell to think of him sitting across from me in the library, staring at me silently.

  “Uhh, hey, Calvin.”

  He tilted hi
s head and frowned like he was an alien and didn’t know how to communicate with a silly primitive human yet.

  “Can I, uh, help you with something?”

  I’d never spoken to Calvin before in my life and his presence did not make me feel any better about murdering someone.

  “What’s your deal, Cora?”

  His voice was deep and soft. I blinked a couple times, trying to process his words. “What’s my deal?”

  “Your deal. Your thing. What’s your truth?”

  I laughed nervously. “I can’t tell if this is some weird New Agey thing or a prank.”

  “You came to Addler’s house the other night and talked with Jarrod. What do you want with him?”

  I went very still.

  I hadn’t realized anyone noticed. But of course they did. When one of the Horsemen walked past, all eyes inevitably turned toward him, and some of those eyes must’ve noticed me floundering along in his wake.

  How Calvin knew about it, I had no clue.

  “Tutoring,” I said lamely. “Remember?”

  He snorted. “Nobody comes to Addler’s place to talk about tutoring.”

  “I do. I’m a goody two-shoes. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”

  He leaned closer. “Do they?”

  I felt my cheeks go hot. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know what you’re doing with Jarrod. Des is too involved in his own world to notice and Addler is too protective of Jarrod to ask. That leaves me.”

  “I’m tutoring him. There’s nothing else.”

  Calvin considered me for a long few seconds. His words scrambled around in my brain, trying to make connections and find meaning.

  Like, for example, why the hell would Addler be protective of Jarrod?

  “Here’s my one warning, so listen up. If you’re doing something stupid with him, stop right now. Jarrod’s on a hot self-destructive streak, and I’m not interested in watching him hit rock bottom. Do you understand?”

  My jaw tightened. He was right that we were up to no good—but how the hell did he knew?

  Lucky guess, that was all.

  “Hopefully, my tutoring doesn’t push him over the edge.”

  “For your sake.” He stood up and regarded me then walked off. He disappeared into the stacks and didn’t look back.

  I slumped back in my chair and let out a silent groan.

  What the hell was that?

  Calvin Solar was terrifying. He was handsome and talented and smart—but he was much too intense. I couldn’t handle his scrutiny, and I definitely didn’t like his line of questioning.

  That was going to be a problem.

  My burner phone buzzed and I nearly screamed.

  Jarrod: Lovely, lovely, lovely freak. I’ve been dreaming about what I’ll do to you on our one and only night. Do you want to hear?

  My heart felt like it might tap dance right the hell out of my chest. I had to get myself under control—I didn’t know if Calvin was watching.

  The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  Cora: I don’t think sexting is a part of our contract.

  Jarrod: I’m going to spread your legs and lick the length of your wet pussy until your back arches as I roll my tongue along your clit. I want to taste you come before I ever fill you up and take your cherry.

  I chewed on my lip. Sexting was definitely not part of the deal, but I had to admit, the man had a way with words.

  Cora: Save it for after. You haven’t earned the right to touch me yet.

  Jarrod: You have no clue how hard I am right now. You want me to earn the right to fuck you, sweet Cora? I’ll cut out that pedo fuck’s tongue and choke him with it just for the privilege of sliding my thick cock between your lips.

  “Shit,” I whispered to myself, pussy tingling with desire.

  Cora: Stop.

  Jarrod: That’s one word you won’t use when I finally take you. Or maybe you will—if you’re into that. Do you want to fight me, freak? Do you want to struggle while I rip into your cunt? I can hold you down and make sure you can’t get away.

  Cora: I swear, if you don’t stop, I’m going to back out.

  Jarrod: That’d be a mistake.

  Cora: Mutually assured destruction, remember?

  Jarrod: I can’t forget. Meet me at the parking lot after football.

  Cora: What are we doing?

  Jarrod: Surveillance.

  I shoved my phone into my bag and closed my eyes, picturing his big hands on my skin, peeling my legs apart, licking my dripping wet pussy, lapping me up, then holding me down and fucking me rough and without mercy—and god, I was losing my mind, I was seriously going insane, because I wanted to fuck him, I really, really wanted to fuck him.

  Even though he’d banged half the freaking college already, I wanted Jarrod.

  One of the Horsecocks.

  God, I was absolutely broken.

  7

  Cora

  I slipped into the passenger seat of his rusty, beat-up truck. Fortunately, the other Horsemen were nowhere to be seen, though the memory of Calvin sitting across from me like an angry snake was still fresh in my brain.

  “How was class?” I asked the brooding nightmare of a man.

  Jarrod glanced at me then started his engine. “Don’t talk.”

  “You wanted to talk earlier.”

  “I wanted to fuck you. Still do if you’d like to pay me with interest.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Then let’s practice meditation and keep our mouths shut.”

  He roared out of the parking lot. I glared at him then stared out the window, trying not to let my anger get the best of me. I never knew which Jarrod I was going to get. One second, he was almost kind, in his dominating sort of way, and the next he was a real bastard.

  I felt sorry for Robyn. She put up with his shit more than anyone I knew, and I never quite understood it. Whenever I asked, she always just said he had his reasons, and that I didn’t really know him, and blah blah blah.

  I knew him, all right.

  Jarrod was a killer and a monster, and I was in bed with him.

  He drove fast, tearing down quiet suburban streets. He headed toward Main Street and the cluster of business parks that were built around the outskirts of the county courthouse. I knew where he was headed the second he turned down a shade-covered lane and slowed to a crawl before pulling into a parking spot.

  Dr. Silver’s practice looked like any number of doctor’s offices. Nondescript outside and plopped right in the center of an office park. He’d been in the same place at least since I’d gone to see him all those years ago, and the sight of his door made my stomach twist. I stared at the nightmare-seared outline of the windows and the shrubs that hadn’t changed in over a decade, and all I wanted to do was run.

  The panic threatened to swamp me. I felt this way the last time I came here—the one and only time I rode my bike out to scope the place during one of my many planning sessions. I nearly freaked out then and I was about to freak out again, except Jarrod was watching me carefully, and he leaned over to put one massive hand on my thigh.

  “It’s just an office,” he said softly. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  I closed my eyes. I was so embarrassed and angry and confused, but his hand felt good and his voice was strangely calming.

  “I know that. I just, I can’t help it.”

  “You’ll be okay. Take some breaths. Try to get yourself under control.”

  I shook my head. “This is a bad idea. I can’t do this. I’m making a huge mistake.”

  “Cora.” His hand tightened on my leg. “Breathe deep. We’re going to kill this fucker and I can’t have you losing your shit when it happens. Now suck in some air and blow it out your nose real slow.”

  It took a few minutes, but I managed to get my heart rate down to something manageable. He nodded to himself when I brushed his hand away and seemed almost pleased. I couldn’t tell if he was good to me right then or if he
was being a total selfish dick, and figured it was a mixture of both.

  “Don’t look so smug,” I said angrily and I knew I was taking my frustration with myself out on him.

  “I’m not smug.” He leaned forward, staring at the office. “Just happy you’re not full of shit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was thinking last night about how I’d feel if you were wrong, but that reaction proves it.”

  “I didn’t realize my character was in question.”

  “We plan on murdering a man. Everything’s in question.”

  An older woman came out of the office. She blinked around at the streetlights then scurried off to her car. I wondered if she knew any young kids that went to see Dr. Silver, or if she brought her children or grandchildren to see that predator fuck. Each and every person that went in there was in danger and they had no clue.

  “You know what’s messed up?” I spoke quietly, slumped back in my seat. Exhaustion fell over me like a weighted blanket. I should’ve been pissed that he was questioning me, but I couldn’t blame him, not really. “He’s a chiropractor.”

  Jarrod grunted. “So what?”

  “He cracks people’s spines. Have you ever been to a chiro before?”

  “Chiropractic medicine is bullshit. It’s descended from early twentieth-century spiritualists. The founder believed he was cracking ghosts out of bones.”

  I tilted my head in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into this stuff.”

  “I like to read.”

  “Huh.” I turned away. “Not just a meathead then.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “They crack your neck. If you’ve never done it, you don’t realize how invasive it is. One wrong move and he could mess you up for life or even kill you. This pedophile demon’s in there taking the lives of his patients into his hands every day and nobody realizes what he is.”

  “That’s why we’re doing this.” His face clouded as his hands gripped the steering wheel. “So he can’t hurt anyone again.”

  “Is that why you signed up? For justice?”

  “For justice and your virginity.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to the office.