Kristie Cook - Promise

"Do you know when he's moving?" I asked Mom that night.

"I don't think he's set a date yet. I think he's still waiting…."

I just nodded and went back to my book. I spent the next day immersed in the fictional world I'd created.

"Has he set a date yet?" I asked Mom that night. She shook her head.

I spent the next two days the same way. I worked on the book all day; I asked Mom the same question at night. She said no both times. I breathed a sigh of relief. By the end of the third day, I felt the novel was as good as I could make it without input from others. It was time to hand it over—let someone else delve into my fantasies and see what I think about, how weird and twisted and lovely my imagination could be. I practically danced around the printer as each page slowly slid out, feeling both nervous and excited for Mom to finally read it.

Needing something to do to pass the time before she came home, I took a long, hot shower and then painted my toenails purple. Finishing the book and then pampering myself cheered me up. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel good enough to call him . Maybe.

When I came out of the bathroom, I heard voices. I peeked into the kitchen to see who was with Mom. She leaned over the counter, her head in her hands, the phone in front of her. She had it set on speaker and when I heard Tristan's name, I stepped back to listen.

"I've tried to talk sense into him, but he's not listening," Mom said. "He insists there's nothing to keep him here, there's no reason to stick around."

"Stefan has been over there, too, with the same results," said a female voice through the phone's speaker. She had a foreign accent I couldn't place. "We cannot let him go, Sophia."

"I know."

"There is only one person who will get through to him. You know that."

"She's still unwilling. I think she wants to, but she's struggling to trust that he really loves her."

"Oh, of course he does! From what you and Stefan have told me, there is no doubt!"

"I know, but she doesn't. Or if she does, she won't admit it."

"You need to persuade her, Sophia. She needs to understand. Otherwise, we will lose him forever."

Mom sighed heavily. "Yes, I'm sure of that. I'm pretty sure he's going back to them."

"So am I."

My chest constricted, strangling my heart. Oh, no! Oh, God, no!

"Do you think they'll kill him?" Mom nearly whispered. My stomach lurched, filling my mouth with the taste of vomit.

"I am not sure. They have a terrible desire to control him again, but if they think they cannot, they will undoubtedly kill him. Either way, we lose him."

I rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of Mom. Her eyes held mine. She had to see the terror on my face, but put her finger to her lips. I wanted to scream at her and the woman on the phone, but could barely pull air through my constricting throat. I felt like I was suffocating.

"You have to convince her, Sophia! She is the only one—"

"I think we have an answer. I'll call you back." Mom quickly pressed the end button. "Alexis…"

The world fuzzed around the edges, then started to go black. I thought I was about to pass out, but I'd never done that before, so I wasn't sure. Mom caught me and set me in a chair, pushing my head between my knees.

"Mom…" I gasped. "Tristan…?"

"Alexis, did you hear?"

My head shot up and pinpricks of light flashed before my eyes. I looked past them at her face. Her expression was a mix of several different emotions, none of them good. Fear, worry, grief, anxiety…I'd never seen Mom so distressed.

"Yes! What do I do ?" I cried.

"I think you know," she whispered.

"How much time do I have?"

"I don't know. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

" NO! "

I bolted for my room. Yes, I know what to do. I dressed quickly in what I knew he liked, just in case it made a difference—the green blouse Mom gave me for Christmas and a denim mini skirt. I threw my hair in a quick twist to get it out of my face and emptied my school bag on my bed, scattering papers and pens everywhere. I threw the framed poem and his note into the bag. I tucked my ring into my hip pocket. I stood in the door and glanced around, trying to think if there was anything else that might help. My eyes landed on the manuscript I'd just printed. I'd promised Mom first read. She'll understand. I grabbed it, slipped it into a folder and shoved it in the bag. I flew out of my room.

Mom waited at the door for me. "I drive faster," she said.

"I can't be there without a car, Mom, just in case…"

"I'll leave it."

She waved off the look I gave her.

"I'll get home fine. Don't worry," she said.

She raced along the surface streets. It didn't feel fast enough. I tried to think of what I'd say or do but nothing came to mind. We turned into his driveway in two minutes. I'd have to wing it.

"You can do this, honey," Mom said. She pecked me on the forehead and then she was gone.

" Tristan! " I cried from the driveway. I rushed up the stairs to the dining room door and banged on it. " Tristan! "

I pressed my face against the glass to look inside. It looked empty except for some boxes and furniture piled at the far end of the living room. He hasn't left. Yet . But he never came to the door and I wondered if he was even home. I could see a light from the hallway, either the office or the gym. I pressed my ear to the glass and heard blaring music. He'll never hear me over that! Damn, damn, damn!

I ran back down the stairs to the keypad by the garage door. I had no idea what the code was and knew it was hopeless. Unable to keep still, pacing the driveway, I tried to think how he would think. It wouldn't be his birth date. He ignored that date. But maybe… Without anything to lose, I tried my birth date. Holy crap! It worked! The door right next to me started lifting. As soon as I was able, I ducked underneath it and hit the button to close it. I ran up the stairs to the house.

"TRI—"

His name lodged in my throat. A steel vise grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the wall two feet off the floor. I couldn't breathe, couldn't even struggle. The bag fell from my hand. I heard the glass frame break. My heart raced even harder.

" Alexis ?" The lovely voice twisted in horror.

Just as my vision started to blur around the edges again, I saw Tristan step back, his hand dropping from my neck. Then I was free and fell to the floor. My lungs seized to pull in air.

"Tri…stan…" I gasped, kneeling on all fours.

"What are you doing here?" he growled. "I almost killed you."

"I'm…sorry…I…banged…on the…door." I inhaled as deeply as I could, the air tearing at my throat like razor-blades. "You couldn't hear me."

"What are you doing here?" he growled again. Fire blazed in his eyes.

I scrambled to my feet.

"I…I came to stop you." My voice sounded small and weak with fear.

"Stop me from what?" His tone was unfamiliar. I didn't like it at all. He folded his arms across his chest.

"From wherever you're going." My voice grew stronger. He won't hurt me…not on purpose anyway.

"It's too late," he growled angrily.

"But you're still here!"

"You've made your feelings clear, Alexis. I have nothing to stay for."

"But I'm here! I'm here for you !"

He glared at me.

"Where are you going?" I could hear the edge in my voice, the anger rising. I'd need that anger if I had to protect myself.

"Exactly where you told me to. Where I came from! "

" NO! You said you'd never go back!" I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes, daring him to defy his own words.

"I've been wrong all along. I failed with you. I failed at this life. It's where I belong."

"But you didn't fail with me. I'm here, Tristan. I'm here for you!"