The Promise

by

R.L. Mathewson

Other titles by R.L. Mathewson:

Anger Management Series

Devastated (Coming soon)

Furious (Coming soon)

The Pyte/Sentinel Series:

Tall, Dark, & Lonely

Without Regret

Tall, Dark, & Heartless

Tall, Silent, & Lethal

Fated

The Hollywood Hearts Series:

A Humble Heart

A Reclusive Heart

The Neighbor from Hell Series:

Playing for Keeps

Perfection

Checkmate

Truce: The Historic Neighbor from Hell

The Game Plan

Double Dare

Christmas from Hell

Fire & Brimstone

Delectable

Playtime’s Over (Coming Soon)

Irresistible (2020)

The EMS Series:

Sudden Response

The Cursed Hearts Series:

Black Heart

The YA Series Novels:

Misunderstood (The NFH YA Novel) Coming soon…

First Blood: The Pyte Chronicles Coming soon…

Misc. Titles

The 2014 R.L. Mathewson Chronicle Collection

The 2015 R.L. Mathewson Chronicle Collection

The 2016 R.L. Mathewson Chronicle Collection

Nonfiction Titles:

How to Write, Publish and All That Good Stuff…

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events described in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The Promise © Rerum Carta Industries, Inc. 2018. All rights reserved.

http://www.rlmathewson.com

Edited by R.L. Mathewson

eBook:

ISBN-

ISBN-

Dedication Page

As always, this book is dedicated to my children, Kayley and Shane, who put up with me, hook me up with plenty of Coke to keep me going and make me smile every day.

A special thank you to Ashley Gordon, Laura Rose, and Amanda Fiske Brown for helping me along the way and enduring my stalking and interrogation to make this right.

Thank you for purchasing this book and for being there for us every step of the way.

Sign up for my newsletter and receive the latest news about the Neighbor from Hell Series as well as my other series at:

www.Rlmathewson.com

Table of Contents

Prologue

Bridgewater, Massachusetts

Fourteen years ago…

“I really think that we should talk about this,” Joey said even as she had to berate herself for not putting the thirty-second head start they’d given her to good use and found a better hiding spot than the top of an old metal cabinet.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Jamie, the normally sweet girl who always let Joey sit at her table, snapped a bit angrily as she jumped and made another mad grab for her, which only confirmed Joey’s suspicions that she was going to die this very day.

“Death by seniors,” she mumbled miserably with a pathetic sigh as she took in the large group shoving each other out of the way in an attempt to get their hands on her first. If they’d only worked together, she thought with another sigh even as she decided that it was probably for the best if she didn’t point that out.

After calculating the odds of surviving this encounter and deciding that they weren’t good, she decided to try reasoning with them with the hope that they could discuss this like rational human beings. “I understand that you’re upset and possibly disappointed by the way things turned out, but is violence really the answer?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes!” came the resounding answer, making her shoulders sag with defeat, because she was really kind of hoping that they’d take into consideration the fact that she was only twelve, small for her age, and really, really sorry that about this whole thing.

Granted, she hadn’t had a chance to apologize yet, but she would just as soon as they stopped trying to drag her away from the safety of the metal cabinet that kept making ominous sounds that were really starting to concern her. She should have kept running and tried to barricade herself in the closet, but at the time the cheerleaders had been closing in on her and she hadn’t been sure if she was going to make it to the closet in time. Thanks to her quick thinking she was now stuck on top of an old, somewhat rusty, metal cabinet with an angry mob of hormonal teenagers after her.

She really wished she could figure out how to keep her mouth shut sometimes, now being one of those times. It would definitely make her life easier, she thought as she was forced to flatten herself against the wall so that she could pull her foot away from the edge of the cabinet.

“Would it help if I said that I was sorry?” she asked with a hopeful expression only to groan when they yelled, “No!”

Hugging her backpack tightly against her chest, she nervously licked her lips as she glanced around the large classroom, looking for someone or something that could get her out of this. But, it appeared as though she was definitely on her own on this one.

What she wouldn’t give for a teacher to walk in right now…

Well, maybe not Mr. Laferreira since he was the reason that she was in this mess. He really shouldn’t have called on her, especially since he knew better than most teachers what her stubborn mouth was capable of. But, for some reason he’d felt it was necessary to prove that she didn’t know when to quit. There had been seventeen other students in the room who were more than capable of answering his question, but had he asked any of them a question about Robert E. Lee’s role in the American Revolution?

No, because for some reason the deeply disturbed man enjoyed it when she pointed out when he was wrong, which unfortunately for the sake of their education, was often. She wasn’t sure what his degree was in, but it definitely wasn’t in American history. He was constantly getting dates mixed up, his facts wrong, and could never seem to answer any of their questions without having to refer to the large history book that he kept open and ready on his desk. So, when she’d politely pointed out that Robert E. Lee had been in the Civil War and that he might want to seriously consider other vocations it had somehow enraged him into assigning everyone a ten-page paper due first thing Monday morning that had really been his fault for calling on her.

“I hate you!” one of the cheerleaders screamed, sobbing a bit at the end there.

“You ruined my life!” someone else added, but she really wasn’t sure who since they’d all decided to start screaming at her.

She should shut up and let them get it out their system with the hopes that it would be enough to get them to give up on their plan to shove her in a locker and seal it with cement, but once again, her mouth refused to stay shut.

“It’s only a dance,” she pointed out, reminding them that it wasn’t the end of the world, but that’s when she realized that she’d made another tactical error.

“It’s Homecoming!” someone yelled as though that meant something to her.

“I had to mow fifty lawns to pay for this thing!”

“It’s the biggest dance of the year!”

“I had to eat lettuce for a month to fit into my dress!” one of girls screamed hysterically as she gave up on trying to grab Joey and decided that it was time to shove the cabinet onto its side.

That was right around the time that Joey decided to abandon ship.

Taking a deep breath, she tightened her hold around her bag and jumped from the cabinet, managing to take everyone by surprise and-

Fall flat on her face with a pained groan.

It wasn’t the smartest thing that she’d ever done, but at least she was off the cabinet, she told herself as another pained groan escaped her. As she lay there, most likely dying from internal injuries, she couldn’t help but wonder if they would be willing to forget this whole thing now that her short, and somewhat depressing, life had flashed before her eyes. When she felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her arms and drag her to her feet, she couldn’t help but regret her decision to turn down her grandmother’s generous offer to homeschool her so that she wouldn’t end up in a situation like this one.

And yes, having the rest of the school turn on her and demand her head on a platter had been something of a concern for her grandparents. If only she’d listened, she thought absently as she was carefully placed on her feet and found herself looking up at her brother’s disapproving face. She couldn’t help but notice that he really didn’t look all that pleased to see her.

That kind of hurt since she was very happy to see him.

“What did you do now?” Brian asked, as he shot the group itching to get their hands on her a look of warning, which was probably the only reason they weren’t dragging her off towards the lockers by now.

“Umm,” she mumbled, shooting a nervous glance around the room to find the rest of her third period American history class glaring at her, “I may have questioned Mr. Laferreira’s ability to teach high school history.”

He didn’t say anything, but then again, he didn’t have to since she was well aware that she’d messed this one up. When he shook his head with a sigh and grabbed her bag, she nearly wept with joy as he gestured for her to move her butt.

“Sorry,” she said, shooting the angry crowd that most likely wouldn’t be asking her to sign their yearbooks a nervous smile.

“She didn’t mean it,” Brian said, reciting the line that he’d been forced to use since she’d learned to talk and making her once again wonder why she couldn’t learn to keep her mouth shut.

“Let’s go,” Brian said, wrapping his large arm around her small shoulders and dragged her out of the room before she could open her mouth and say something to make this worse.

Not that she was sure that was even humanly possible at this point.

“Joey,” he said, with a pained groan as he led her towards the cafeteria, “what did we talk about?”

“Many things,” she mumbled pathetically when she saw who was waiting for them in the hallway.

Reed Bradford, her brother’s best friend, the school’s bad boy, breaker of hearts, her neighbor since she was two, and her self-appointed babysitter.

“You find her in time?” Reed asked, as he pushed away from the lockers and joined them, making her hate him even more than she already did.

It didn’t matter that he’d saved her from an angry crowd determined to get their revenge, she hated him, always had and always would.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Brian said as Joey grumbled a “See you later,” and ducked out of his reach. She hurried towards the cafeteria before she had to listen to the jerk ranting about how she had no business being in high school.

As she was forced to duck inside the janitor’s closet when the angry mob that wanted nothing more than to tear her apart stepped into the hallway, Joey decided then and there that she was going to do whatever it took to finish school early and when she did, she was going to leave this town and never come back.

Chapter 1

Present Day

“Try again,” Reed said, keeping his gaze locked on the sophomore sitting across from him, shifting nervously as she tried to come up with a better lie to explain why she was sitting in his office instead of in third period Biology class where she belonged.

“It was, umm, already there when I got there,” she said, licking her lips as she tried to meet his gaze head on, failed and settled for staring down at her lap.

“You can do better than that,” Reed said, absently tapping the half-empty pack of cigarettes that she’d been caught red handed with against his desk as he waited for another bullshit excuse that would explain why he’d found her hanging out behind the gym, smoking.

“I really can’t,” she finally admitted with a heartfelt sigh.

“That’s it, Jen? No excuses?” he asked, admittedly disappointed, because he’d expected a hell of a lot more from his favorite repeat offender.

“There’s really no excuse for what I did, Principal Bradford, is there?” she said, giving him a “What are you going to do,” look that had him rolling his eyes, because he knew what was coming.

“I mean, I guess that I could blame it on my broken home, but that should really go without saying. Then of course, there’s peer pressure,” she said, sighing heavily as if the weight of the world rested solely upon her small shoulders.

“You were alone,” he pointed out.

“Which only proves how detrimental peer pressure can be,” she said, reaching over and helping herself to the bowl of hard candy that he kept on his desk.

“I see,” he murmured, leaning back against his chair as he considered her. “And this is really the best that you can come up with?”

“With a public education?” she asked before nodding. “I’m afraid so.”

Reminding himself that smiling would only encourage her, he cleared his throat and tossed the pack of cigarettes on the desk and reached for her folder, noting that it was probably the thickest student file that he’d ever come across. He thumbed through it, all while Jen sat there, humming to herself as she waited for him to decide on her punishment.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have suspended her for a week, but he couldn’t do that with her, because Jen would view it as a vacation. He could have her volunteer to tutor elementary school children again, but he’d learned his lesson the last time. That left graffiti cleanup and detention. Since he remembered all too well what happened the last time she was on graffiti cleanup, he decided to save himself the trouble and settled on detention.

“Two weeks,” he said, tossing her folder back on the desk.

“Of suspension?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“Detention.”

“Detention,” she murmured as though she was contemplating her choices.

There weren’t any and she knew it, but that wasn’t going to stop her from treating this like a negotiation. “How about one?”

“Two.”

“Now is that two consecutive weeks or can we break this thing down so that I don’t have to miss basketball practice?” she suggested with a hopeful smile that had him glaring at her.

“You’re not on the basketball team,” he pointed out, rubbing his hands down his face and wishing that he’d picked a different week to give up caffeine.

“I could have been,” she murmured softly with a sad shake of her head, “I could have been.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he shifted his attention to his laptop and brought up the detention schedule. “You can start today,” he said, adding her name to the detention list.

“Who’s the teacher in charge this week?” she asked, as she reached for another piece of candy.

“Mr. Owens,” he said, adding her name to next week’s list as well.

“And next week’s?”

Sighing, he scrolled back to the top and did his best to hide his grimace as he said, “Miss Dawson is on for the next two weeks.”

“Miss Dawson?” Jen asked, suddenly perking up. “Can I start next week instead?”

“No,” he said evenly, hitting “Save” and praying that this was the only time that she was brought up today, because he honestly wasn’t sure that he had the energy to deal with this today.

“It would make things easier,” Jen said, sounding hopeful.

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” he said firmly, absolutely refusing to do this.

“Fine,” Jen said, sighing heavily as she grabbed her backpack and stood up, “but just so you know, I’m probably not going to be able to learn my lesson in such an oppressive environment.”

“Then it should probably help that I plan on calling your mother and asking her to come in for another meeting,” he said, tossing the pack of cigarettes in the bottom left-hand drawer to join the rest of the contraband that he’d taken from students since the start of the year, most of it hers.

“Call my mom?” she said slowly, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not sure that would really help.”

He wasn’t either, but it was school policy.

“Do you have another suggestion?” he asked, open to suggestions at this point.

“Let me off with a warning?” she suggested with the brightest smile that she could manage.

“No. Anything else?” he asked, getting to his feet as he slid his cellphone into his back pocket and headed for the door.

“Fine. Then let me complete my detention with Miss Dawson?” she asked with a sigh as her smile disappeared.

“No,” he said firmly, opening his office door only to find Mrs. Jennings, the head of the English department, standing in front of his door, wringing her hands and looking seconds away from another meltdown.

Since he already had a pretty good idea why she was here, he simply gestured for her to have a seat in his office and stepped out of the way as Janice, his secretary, rushed into the room with a bottle of water, a box of tissues, and a small brown paper bag just in case she started hyperventilating again and handed them all over to Mrs. Jennings, who went for the brown paper bag first.

Never a good sign, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he asked, “Where?” not bothering to waste any more time than necessary, but honestly, it wasn’t necessary.

“Upstairs back hall,” she gasped, placing the brown paper bag over her mouth as she began hyperventilating.

“Great,” he said, sighing as he left the office and gestured for Jen to return to class, but of course she ignored him and decided to tag along.

“So, what do you think happened?” she asked cheerfully while she did her best to keep up with him as he headed towards the back stairs.

“Get to class,” he said, trying not to think about all the possibilities that would have had Mrs. Jennings leaving her class to come see him.

“Do you think she dumped tea in the pool again?” Jen asked as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Or maybe she held another mock trial?” she asked and he barely had time to suppress a shiver of revulsion at the reminder of the last time she’d held a mock trial

and the mock execution that had immediately followed, which had led to two weeks of paperwork, a meeting with the school board, and a special assembly that the DA and police department had been forced to put on for the school on lynch mobs.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said just as they reached the second-floor landing and was forced to jump out of the way when a group of students ran past them, releasing blood curdling screams as they raised water guns above their heads.

“Son of a bitch!” he snapped, just as Miss Dawson slowly pushed her walker decked out with the Lone Star flag, yelling as loud as her emphysemic lungs would allow, “Remember the Alamo!” which resulted in him standing there, trying to figure out how he was going to explain this one to the school board while the group of freshmen boys moved as one and yelled “YOLO” as they took down what appeared to be Mrs. Jennings’ abandoned A.P. literature class.

Chapter 2

At a university that is probably better left unnamed.

Philadelphia, PA

“Perhaps we could talk about this over coffee?” Joey suggested with a hopeful smile, really hoping that the man sitting across from her wasn’t seriously considering following through with any of the suggestions being screamed from the other side of the, hopefully locked, door.

“Joey…” Dean Anderson said, sighing her name heavily the same way that he had twelve years ago when she’d first been escorted to his office by security after the unfortunate incident that had occurred at freshmen orientation.

“Perhaps a muffin as well?” she suggested, somewhat desperately when it became painfully clear, mostly by the loud shouts demanding her head on a platter that she was doing her best to ignore at the moment, that she may have gone too far this time.

Not that she’d done this on purpose, because she hadn’t, and as soon as Dr. Miller regained consciousness she fully planned on telling him that. Until then, she was going to have to rely on the man that had taken her under his wing and kept the rest of the faculty from killing her over the years not to do anything rash like fire her. So, it was with that in mind that Joey kept that smile on her face even as she discretely shifted her chair away from the door where half the history department was currently expressing their displeasure with the paper that she’d published with shouts, curses, and semi-disturbing threats of violence.

“What are we going to do, Joey?” he asked with a resigned sigh as he rubbed his hands down his face.

“Hire more security?” she suggested, which earned her a glare.

So, she moved on.

“I can apologize,” she offered, which was normally what she did in situations like this, and unfortunately for her, this hadn’t been the first time that her research had ended someone’s career seconds before she...

Well, it wasn’t important what she did or how Dr. Miller ended up in the hospital because the doctor assured her that there wasn’t going to be any lasting damage.

“Was your information correct?” he asked, suddenly looking fifty, which was somewhat concerning since he was only thirty-five.

“Yes,” she said with a wince when the admission caused him to reach into his desk, grab the industrial sized bottle of Tums that he kept stocked at all times and consumed a handful the large chalky pink tablets, something she’d noticed that he did more and more over the years.

“Then apologizing’s not really going to help,” he said around another mouthful of Tums.

“Probably not,” she said absently as she watched him grab a bottle of Pepto-Bismol and finish off half the bottle.

“Then let’s move onto the reason that I called you today,” he said, pausing for a moment before opening his mouth, closing it, opening it again, closing it again, shaking his head, and then downing the rest of the Pepto-Bismol as she sat there, really hoping that this wasn’t about her T.A., because that one definitely wasn’t her fault. But, she still planned to make it up to him when, if, he returned.

“We’ve decided to approve your sabbatical.”

“Umm, thank you?” she said, unable to help but frown as she added, “But, I didn’t put in for one.”

“And yet, we approved it,” he said, holding up a fresh bottle of Pepto-Bismol and muttered, “Congratulations,” before tossing another handful of Tums in his mouth.

“But, my classes-” she started to say only to have him wave off her concerns.

“Already taken care of,” he said, taking another swig from the bottle of Pepto-Bismol as she sat there, wondering if this was his way of telling her that she was fired.

“This is a good thing,” he promised and if he hadn’t followed that up with another mouthful of Tums she probably would have believed him.

*-*-*-*

Bridgewater, MA

“I guess it all started when I found out that Santa Claus wasn’t real,” the little pain in the ass that was trying to get out of detention said from her usual spot.

“That must have been very traumatic for you,” Reed said absently as he finished reading through the rest of the emails, deleting the ones from parents demanding to know why he’d fired Miss Dawson, others calling him a fucking moron for not firing her sooner, and a few writing just to let him know that he was an asshole.

“It was,” Jen said with a sniffle, “It really was.”

“And when did this life altering event take place?” he asked, not bothering to read the next email when he saw the word asshole in capital letters.

“Last week,” Jen answered with a forlorn sigh that had Reed’s lips twitching.

“I see,” Reed murmured, closing his laptop as he leaned back in his chair. “And this is why you couldn’t go to detention?”

“I just don’t think I’m ready to be around all that joy,” Jen whispered. “Not yet,” she said with a sniffle and a forlorn sigh that had him nodding sympathetically.

“It’s too soon,” Reed agreed, matching her sigh with one of his own as he grabbed a pen and started writing a note.

“It is,” Jen whispered as she helped herself to the dish of hard candy on his desk.

“You don’t belong in detention,” Reed said with an understanding smile as he held the note out to the little con artist.

“Bless you, Mr. Bradford,” Jen said with a watery smile and a sniffle as she stood up and took the note. “Bless you.”

“I can only hope that this will help ease the pain,” Reed said as he put his laptop in his bag and stood up, more than ready to call it a day.

“It will, Mr. Bradford. It will,” Jen said with a little sniffle as she headed for the door only to stop dead in her tracks with a horrified gasp when she looked down at the note.

“If you hurry, you should be able to make it to the library before it closes,” Reed said, heading for the door.

“How could you after I shared my pain?” she asked before adding, “How?”

“Easily,” he said, locking his office before walking past the little pain in the ass that should probably be heading to the library if she wanted to avoid another two weeks of detention.

“Ten pages?” the little deviant asked, catching up with him in the main lobby.

“Not enough?” he asked, reaching for the note only to have her jump back with a startled gasp and a, “No! It’s more than enough!”

“Good, then I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, once again heading for the front door and freedom.

“Did I mention that my gerbil died?” his little shadow asked, once again catching up with him.

“No,” he said, heading for his truck.

“He did. It was tragic. Very tragic,” she murmured with a sniffle that had his lips twitching.

“When did he die?” he asked, opening his truck door and carefully tossing his bag on the passenger seat.

“Ten years ago, but the pain is still fresh,” Jen said as she stood there, hugging herself and giving him a sad little smile that had him sighing in defeat.

“Fine,” he said, plucking the note out of her hand and crossed out the ten-page paper that he’d assigned and made another quick note before handing it back to her.

“Bless you, Mr.-No!” she gasped in horror.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, gesturing towards the large hall that housed the library.

“That’s just so wrong,” she said in mock horror as she turned around and headed to the library where she would probably spend the next hour conning some poor unsuspecting freshmen into doing her paper for her, but that was a problem for another day.

Right now, the only thing he cared about was going home, grabbing an ice-cold beer, throwing a steak on the grill, and catching up on some paperwork while he did his best to forget about all the bullshit that could wait until tomorrow, but that all changed when he looked down at his phone and saw the text message that was waiting for him.

Chapter 3

“This isn’t so bad,” Joey mumbled to herself, backing up that lie with a nod as she tightened her hold on her grandfather’s old work ladder and gave it a good yank to free it from the mass of briars that had at some point in the last twelve years decided to accept it as one of its own.

It took a few minutes, several curses, a few mishaps that ended with her sprawled out in the large puddle that she’d been trying to avoid, but finally after several tugs, prayers, and a mishap with her grandmother’s old bird bath, she finally managed to pull the ladder free only to realize that at some point in the last ten minutes that her only means of getting inside the house had fallen apart. Letting the pieces fall to the ground, Joey turned around and tried to make out the old imposing house that she hadn’t seen since she was twelve, through the freezing, pouring rain.

Maybe she should go find a hotel for the night and come back in the morning, she thought only to immediately dismiss the idea since her car was currently stuck in the mud and her keys were in one of five puddles that she’d fallen into when she’d tried to navigate the front yard full of weeds, rocks, and the occasional garden gnome. After an extensive search for her old hide-a-key that had ended with her discovering that there was a raccoon living under her front step, she’d realized that she didn’t have any choice but to pick the lock.

That had ended with her making a mental note to pick up a new lock in the morning. After a ten-minute break, which had resulted in her locking herself out of her car, she’d decided to try her luck with the second-floor bathroom window, praying that Brian hadn’t fixed it since she’d moved out. That had resulted in her traversing the huge backyard with the hopes of finding her grandfather’s old ladder, which the briars had already reclaimed.

Still, things could be worse, she reminded herself with a shrug as she headed back to the old house that her grandparents had given them with the hopes that one of them would pick up where her grandfather had left off. This old house had been her grandfather’s dream. Since he was a kid, he’d dreamed of getting his hands on one of these old houses and fixing it up, but the war, his parents dying unexpectantly and leaving him to raise his little brother, marriage, kids, and life had gotten in the way.

Every day when he’d forced himself to punch in at the old-time clock to do a job that he’d hated, he’d dreamed of the day when he would be able to buy an old house

and restore it. He’d waited over fifty years for his chance and when he got it, he’d suddenly found himself with two small children to raise when his daughter died in a car crash and their father decided that leaving them on their grandparent’s doorstep in the middle of the night was for the best.

But, he never complained. He’d simply rolled up his sleeves and did his best. He’d taught Brian how to be a man, how to do the right thing, and how to work hard to get what he wanted, and with her…

He’d simply smiled and did his best to ensure that she didn’t end up accidentally burning down the house or torn apart by an angry mob. Her grandparents had done an amazing job, making sure that they were well taken care of, had clothes on their backs, and food in their stomachs even though it meant putting aside their dreams to make sure that they found theirs.

When she went off to college she’d figured that her grandparents would finally get a chance to enjoy their retirement. What she hadn’t planned on was her grandparents both passing away before the first semester was over. After that, she hadn’t seen a reason to come back here, not with Brian in the army, but now…

She was determined to see this thing through for her grandfather.

With that in mind, she headed towards the house, slipped, tripped, and stumbled along the way, but eventually, she made it to the back door. After taking a deep breath and telling herself there was no other way, she picked up a rock, closed her eyes and-

Realized too late that her brother had installed an alarm.

*-*-*-*

Wondering why Brian refused to sell this dump, Reed grabbed the baseball bat that he kept by the back door as he kicked the broken glass out of the way and headed towards the sounds of squeaky footsteps, noting that the burglar had managed to shut off the alarm. From the open doorway of the large living room, he watched as a small silhouette stumbled around the room. Shaking his head in disgust, he reached over and turned on the light.

“Don’t move,” he said, praying that it was just some kid here on a dare so that he could kick him out and call it a night.

There was a surprised gasp before the small burglar tried to turn only to slip, stumble, and fall over Mrs. Lawson’s old tea table with a pained grunt. It took a moment before he realized that the burglar was soaked to the bone, covered from head to toe in mud, trembling, and most likely female. His suspicions were confirmed when she reached up and shoved the long, dark wet hair out of her face. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of him standing there. He watched as she licked her lips nervously, moved to stand up only to slip on the small puddle she’d created and fell back on her ass.

“I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t leave immediately I’ll be forced to call the police,” she announced, taking him by surprise as she held up a dripping wet cell phone to show him that she was serious.

He had to bite back a smile when the cell phone battery slipped out and fell to the floor with an ominous “clank.”

She looked up at him and noticeably swallowed. “Damn,” she whispered with an adorable frown.

Reed decided to take pity on the little wet rat. He lowered the bat and gestured towards the front door. “Just get out of here and I won’t call the cops.”

Large beautiful blue eyes widened even further at that announcement a split second before they narrowed on him.

“Not happening,” she said firmly.

Whatever patience he had snapped. “Look, enough is enough, woman,” he said with a heavy sigh as he stalked forward, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her to her feet only to drop her a split second later when she raised a small metallic tube and sprayed him in the face.

*-*-*-*-*

Joey cringed back from the very large man that didn’t seemed fazed by her peppermint breath spray as he glared down at her while she struggled to come up with a way to save herself and admittedly drawing a blank on this one.

“I’m accident prone,” she heard herself mumble, really hoping that he didn’t put Brian’s old baseball bat to good use.

“What exactly does that have to do with spraying me in the face with breath spray?” he asked with a frown as he wiped the last of the peppermint spray off his face while she took this opportunity to check out her burglar.

And frowned.

She wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but something told her that the large, incredibly handsome man with neatly combed black hair, a tie, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes wasn’t a burglar, which brought up an interesting question…

Why was he here?

Worrying her bottom lip and wondering if Brian finally followed through with his threat to sell this place, she took a step back and slipped in the puddle she’d made when she’d tried to find a lamp and would have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t reached over and steadied her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled automatically as she tried to straighten her wet clothes and figure out how she was going to afford to buy Brian’s share of the house and still be able to afford to restore it to its former glory.

She wasn’t going to be able to, she realized pretty quickly as she bit back a groan, wondering how she was going to convince Brian to give her a chance when they both knew that he was going to say no. He didn’t want the house, never had. The only reason that he hadn’t really pushed her to sell it yet was because he knew just how much it meant to their grandfather, but sooner or later sentiment wasn’t going to be enough.

“Well?” the man that she was afraid was a realtor said.

“I don’t carry mace-”

“So, I’ve figured,” he cut her off dryly.

“-because with my luck I’d end up spraying myself in the face or mistake it for breath spray,” she admitted with a shrug.

His lips twitched. “I see.”

She glared, slipped, caught herself, and glared again.

He smiled.

She made a small growl of frustration somehow causing herself to lose her footing. He chuckled as he caught her, again.

“I’m Reed Bradford and you are?” he asked with that devastating smile that brought it all back.

It also made it kind of difficult to breathe as she stared at her child nemesis, the boy who’d made her life a living hell, had made her feel like a third wheel in her own house, had made an art out of glaring at her, and the man that she’d publicly humiliated. As she stood there, trying to think of something, anything to save her from the ass whooping that he’d promised her if he ever saw her again, she couldn’t help but regret her decision to come back here.

Granted, when she’d made her decision to come home and pretend that her life wasn’t falling apart she hadn’t exactly been thinking straight, because if she had she would have considered just how stupid that was and never would have taken the risk. Deciding that perhaps it would be for the best if she was anywhere but here, she mumbled, “I’ll just be going now,” with a somewhat hysterical smile as she slowly backed towards the door only to go still when the smile on his incredibly handsome face slowly died and was replaced by the glare that used to haunt her dreams as the realization that she was the girl who’d made him a YouTube sensation hit and when it did…

She decided that it would be in her best interest to see if the pantry still locked from the inside.

Chapter 4

“I said I was sorry!” the little brat who had made his life a living hell yelled while he stood there, glaring at the locked pantry door as his hands twitched with the need to finally give her the spanking that she should have gotten a long time ago.

“No, you didn’t,” he bit out evenly through clenched teeth as the memory of everything the little brat put him through nearly knocked him on his ass.

“Well,” she said, pausing to clear her throat, “it was implied.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said, narrowing his eyes on the door.

“I tried, but Brian felt that it was for the best if I gave you some space until you were able to get your homicidal urges under control.”

“Then you came back too soon,” he bit out, looking around the kitchen for something to use to take that damn door down.

“Oh, come on! You can’t still be mad!”

“Think again,” he said as he considered grabbing that baseball bat so he could bash the door in and spank her ass raw.

“If it makes you feel any better, I sent the frat house that posted that video a strongly worded email,” she said, sounding hopeful.

“It doesn’t,” he said as he rubbed his hands roughly down his face as he stared at the door, debating his next move and wondering if getting revenge after twelve years was worth losing his job, going to prison and having to worry about dropping the soap for the rest of his life. Totally worth the risk, he decided as he grabbed hold of the doorknob and slammed his shoulder against the door.

“Wait. What are you doing?” came the hesitant question

Slam!

“Maybe we should talk about this?

Slam!

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Oh, my god, I’m sorry!” the little demon screamed when the door finally gave way with a satisfying crack.

Shoving the broken door aside, he stepped inside the pantry and took in the small muddy mess plastering herself against the shelves, noting the scrawny little brat that had been nothing more than knobby knees, pointy elbows, and ink stained fingers was gone and in her place was this small frumpy woman, who barely came up to his shoulder, an overabundance of curves that put her on the plump side, messy, mud-caked hair, crystal blue eyes, and plump pink lips that were working soundlessly as she struggled to come up with some bullshit excuse to get her out of the spanking that she deserved. Deciding that he’d waited long enough, he grabbed the little brat and dragged her out of the pantry and headed for the old kitchen table where he’d learned how to read and write, pulled out a chair, sat down and-

“Wait! We can talk about this!”

-yanked the little brat down across his lap, raised his hand and-

“You promised!” she shouted somewhat hysterically as she tried to wiggle her way free as her words slammed into him and when they did, he shoved her off his lap with a curse.

“Goddamn it!” he bit out, shoving to his feet and knocking the chair back in the process.

“So, ummm, since we have that settled then, I’ll be calling it a night,” the little brat mumbled nervously with a nod as she got to her feet, nodded again, opened her mouth to say something else that would probably piss him off, closed it, nodded again, mumbled, “Right then,” and moved to make her escape.

But, there would be no escaping him and they both knew it and it was all thanks to the promise that he never should have made. Not that he’d had a choice, he reminded himself as he grabbed the little brat before she could make things more difficult, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked, but since he was in no mood to talk to her, he simply carried her out the door. As he set the alarm he made a mental note to come back tomorrow and replace the glass before locking up on his way out.

“Why are we heading to the woods?” she asked, shifting nervously over his shoulder before pointing out, “You know that it’s almost impossible to successfully hide a body these days, right? Reed?”

Still, he said nothing as he headed for the old path in the woods that connected their properties, thinking about the day that he’d stupidly promised to watch over the little brat. If it had been anyone else he would have told her no and laughed it off, but he couldn’t say no to Mrs. Lawson, not after everything she’d done for him. She’d watched him when his was little, taken care of him when his mother was put on bed rest when she was pregnant with Matt, helped him with his homework, and always made sure that there was a spot at her table for him, which he’d always appreciated since his mother couldn’t cook to save her life. She’d always been there for him so when she’d asked him to watch over the little brat if anything ever happened to her he’d forced himself to say yes, knowing damn well that he would regret it.

*-*-*-*-*

“So, how are your parents?” the little demon asked conversationally as she glanced around the large first floor bathroom, shifting her attention here and there, which of course resulted in her feet threatening to go out from under her every few seconds thanks to the large puddle that she was creating on the tiled bathroom floor.

“What the hell are you doing here, Joey?” he asked, rubbing his hands roughly down his face and still unable to believe that this was really Joey, the annoying little pain in the ass that had done her best to give him a heart attack when they were kids.

“Came home,” she said with a shrug as she took in the floor to ceiling cabinets that his grandfather built for his grandmother before shifting her attention to the large shower stall that he’d installed last year.

“I see,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, because he honestly never thought that he would see her again. “So, you flew home and-”

“Oh no, I drove here. It took five hours longer than it should have, but that probably had something to do with the incident at the drive thru,” she explained with a shrug and that smile that he couldn’t help but find adorable on the mud-caked demon even as he asked, “Drive thru?”

She pursed her lips up, looking thoughtful. “Now that I think about it, the manager was probably right about the clown.”

“The clown?” he found himself asking against his better judgement.

“The clown at the drive thru. When I didn’t hear anything, I decided to use the call button,” she said with a shrug.

“Sounds reasonable,” he murmured, not really sure that he wanted to know where this was going.

“I thought so, too,” she said, nodding in agreement. “But, I couldn’t reach it through the window. So, I opened my door and ended up accidentally hitting the clown, but the fireman said the fire would have happened anyway. Faulty wiring and all that,” she mumbled quickly with a helpless shrug.

“I see,” he said softly as childhood memory after childhood memory hit him, leaving him standing there seriously wondering how she was still alive.

Granted, he’d been wondering that since the day he’d stumbled across her at the playground down the street, barely two-years-old and already pissing off all the other kids. He’d been forced to step in when the rest of the toddlers tried to bury her alive in the sandbox. He still wasn’t sure what she’d done to piss them off, but from that day on it had somehow become his job to keep the little pain in the ass out of trouble. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to step in over the years to save her ass and this time it seemed, wouldn’t be any different.

“My insurance is covering the repairs. The manager said the restaurant should be open again in a week at the latest and thankfully no one got hurt. Well, except for Johnny that is.”

“Johnny?” he said, not really sure that he wanted to hear this.

She waved it away, unconcerned. “Johnny the burger clown.”

His lips twitched despite the fact that he still wanted to throttle the little brat. “I see.”

“It’s fine. I have really good insurance,” she added absently only to frown as she glanced down at the large muddy puddle that she was creating. “I should probably go back home now,” she mumbled thoughtfully and as much as he would love to show her to the door and save himself from the nightmare that was Joey Lawson, he didn’t have a choice.

He had to keep the little brat out of trouble.

“Brian shut the water off years ago,” he said, wondering if he should give her brother a call only to immediately dismiss the idea since he didn’t want to get dragged into the middle of whatever mess the little hellion had gotten herself into.

“Oh,” she said with an adorable frown as she looked back up. “What about the heat?”

Once their grandparents passed away, Brian stopped staying at the old house and started crashing with him or with whatever bar bunny he’d picked up for the night. Reed couldn’t even remember the last time that Brian checked on the old place. Between the taxes and the insurance, the old house just wasn’t worth keeping, but every time Reed suggested that he sell it, Brian would just shrug it off and tell him that he would think about it.

“Broken,” he said, wondering why she really came back here.

Nodding absently, she mumbled, “I see,” as she reached up and pushed her mud-caked hair back before releasing a heavy sigh. “I guess I’ll stay at a hotel until I get it fixed. Is there still a Marriot on Chase Street?”

“You can stay with me,” he found himself saying, because he couldn’t send Brian’s little sister to a hotel.

“Oh,” she said, worrying her bottom lip as she turned to take another look around and somehow managed to trip over her own two feet in the process. She would have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t caught her.

“That must be some insurance,” he said as he dragged her back up to her feet.

“The best.”