Promise Me Not

Payton

Before, July 5

The pounding on the door sounds again, and my heart leaps into my throat, suffocating me.

Oh god. This is it.

“Payton, open the door!” the boy I left behind when I ran hysterically shouts from outside. “Please open the door. Please.” He bangs his fist again.

He’s here. He found me.

He came for me…

“Peep”—Parker holds his hands out—“talk to me. What do we do?”

I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m frozen in place, staring at the white wood like it might crack and splinter into a million pieces, revealing a broken boy on the other side.

“Payton,” Lolli whispers, and I jolt. I hadn’t even noticed her walking closer. “He sounds worried. Maybe we should let him in, if only to show him you’re okay.”

Shit. shit, shit.

Another knock.

“Open it,” I rasp, pressing my hand to my stomach, hoping to settle the sudden queasiness.

My brother opens the door, and there he is, sagging against the frame.

His hair is all over the place instead of in the neat styled curls he normally wears, and his collared shirt is wrinkled from every angle.

He hasn’t spotted me yet, pleading for Parker to put him out of his misery. “Please tell me she’s here. I’ve…I don’t know where else to go. She just…she disappeared and⁠—”

The worry in his tone does it, and I call out, “Deaton.”

The broken laugh that leaves him makes my bones ache, and then his eyes find mine, his own squeezing closed in relief. With his next breath, he’s rushing my way.

The minute his arms wrap around me, the tears fall, and I honestly don’t know if they’re from relief or fear. Relief that he’s here and fear for the very same reason.

If my mother is vicious, his is the devil, but that’s not really why I’m seconds from vomiting all over the both of us. I’m going to have to tell him, and I am not ready.

“Baby, I didn’t know what had happened. Suddenly, you were gone and—” His voice cracks, and his hold on me tightens. “I thought your mom… Why did you leave me there? I would have come with you if you wanted to run away.” He keeps talking, but I can’t hear past the echo of my own pulse pounding hard against my temples.

“Deaton, please.” I pull away, and his arms fall to his sides in defeat.

“Talk to me. Tell me what I did. I’ll fix it. I promise you.”

Shame and frustration in my own self boil over inside me, and I shake my head. “You can’t fix it.” My voice is but a whisper.

He steps closer, but I step back, wincing when his face pales at the movement.

“What’s going on?” he pleads. “I don’t understand.”

“I…” Damn it. There is no soft way to say this, no easing him into our new reality, so I suck it up, forcing the words from my lips and hoping it’s the right decision. “I’m pregnant.”

Deaton’s entire body locks in place as if my words have pressed pause on the wheel of time. One second passes, and then another. Slowly, or so it feels, a whirl of emotion flashes across his features, and the next thing I know, he’s bending in front of me. I’m lifted off the floor, and his feet carry us across the room, not stopping until we’re out the sliding glass door. On the back deck, he eases me down until I’m sitting on the outdoor sofa.

He drops down before me, and I bury my face in my palms, unable to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he finally says. “Ignoring all my calls and texts.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s been days, Payton.” He sounds tired, but there’s no anger in his tone. There’s not even really hurt, just concern, and that makes me feel worse.

He’s not overly emotional, having come from a cold family, but he also never really gets mad. Sometimes I wish he would so I would know he was as jacked up as I am.

“I know” is all I manage to say.

“Look at me. Please.” He pauses, and I force myself to listen. A small smile forms on his lips. “Tell me everything about the baby.”

I jump up so fast he tumbles back a bit as I make a mad dash past him, running right down the steps and out into the warm sand. I’m halfway to the water’s edge when he gently catches me by the wrist, swinging himself around so he’s in front of me.

With my free hand, I press against his chest, my head shaking feverishly, but he only pushes himself closer.

His mouth opens as tears roll down my cheeks, and then a body comes out of nowhere, slamming into Deaton’s side so hard he’s airborne for a solid second.

I nearly stumble onto my ass with a screech, but warm hands wrap around me, keeping me on my feet.

“I’ve got you” is whispered into my ear, but I’m too busy gaping at the sight before me.

Mason jumps to his feet, and I’m so shocked I don’t realize he’s moved to straddle Deaton until his arm tugs back, his fist flying forward in a swift swing.

My brain finally catches up to what’s happening in front of me, and it’s my sudden shriek that breaks through the fog of Mason’s…whatever the hell this is, and his fist freezes in the air mere inches from Deaton’s face.

His head snaps to me instantly, eyes narrowed and pinned on mine, heavy, bursting breaths heaving from his lungs as his gaze slices across my form as if searching for something. I think he’s shaking.

I think I’m shaking.

Somehow, when his wild eyes slide back to mine, it must click. His arm lowers, and when Deaton shoves at him, Mason allows him to knock him onto his ass in the sand.

“What the hell, man?” Deaton frowns, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off.

Mason has already hopped up and moves to stand in front of me just as the arms that kept me from tumbling fall away, and then Chase is there, too, both guys looking from me to Deaton with hard expressions.

Mason wants to ask questions—what those would be, I don’t know—but there must be something he sees in my gaze, as in the next moment, he steps back.

In the blink of an eye, the tension tightening his features falls away, and a wide smile spreads across his lips. “My bad. Thought you were some dick touching her, then I saw her crying and, you know. Game over.”

“Thanks?” Deaton frowns but accepts Mason’s hand when he offers up one of those bro handshakes. “I’m Deaton, but it seems you already know that.” He looks to me expectantly.

I reach out, taking Deaton’s hand and entwining our fingers as I move to his side.

“These are Mason and Chase, friends of my brother.” I pause, thinking better of it. “Actually, Mason is Kenra’s cousin,” I mention, because Kenra was seeing Deaton’s asshole older brother, so he knows her.

“Hey, sorry, man,” Chase apologizes, though he doesn’t look all that sorry, not that he’s the one who tackled Deaton to the ground. He does look annoyed, though. “We didn’t know you were here.”

“It’s fine.” Deaton looks to me and back. “Thanks for looking out for her.”

I offer a small smile, my free hand pressing into his chest as I glance toward the others. “Can you guys leave us alone, please?”

The boys hesitate but then nod, heading up the deck we just came down.

Sighing, I step in to Deaton, resting my cheek against his chest. We’re nearly the same height, so when his arms come around me, lifting me a tiny bit, my toes still dig into the sand.

“Well, this has been a lot more eventful of a reunion than I anticipated,” he muses, rubbing my back.

I grin into his neck, a light chuckle escaping. “Yeah, they’re kind of a lot. And there’s more of them.”

It’s Deaton’s turn to chuckle. “Well, I’m glad to know there are other people you can depend on.”

I close my eyes. “I missed you, and I know I should have told you where I was going so you didn’t worry, but I knew you’d ask questions, and I just…didn’t want to answer them.”

I pull back, looking at him.

“Why?” he asks softly.

“Because I know you, Deaton. I can see it in your eyes right now. You’ve already accepted this, and you’re rearranging puzzle pieces in your mind, and I’m—” I swallow, biting on the inside of my cheek.

He clasps my shoulders with soft hands, and I force my eyes to stay on his when I want to look away. “It’s okay to be afraid, Payton. Or even a little sad. We have, what?” he smiles softly. “Eight months to figure it out, at least?”

Wrong. How do I tell him I’ve known for over a month now, having suspected even longer but was too afraid to find out for sure? Because of the extensive workout plan and stress of my day-to-day life, both thanks to my mother, it was normal for me to skip a month or two of my cycle. I thought nothing of it until that third month rolled around and the box of tampons I’d restocked still sat unopened under the sink. He couldn’t have guessed any of this, though, as my body hasn’t changed much, so it’s been nothing a sweater or flowy sundress couldn’t hide. And I did hide it.

Swallowing, I pull back, putting a little space between us but keeping our hands connected.

This is the hardest part.

The real part I was afraid of and the reason that I was avoiding him. That I ran.

I meet his gaze and speak the words I’ve been desperate to hide, maybe even from myself.

“That’s the thing,” I whisper shakily. “I don’t know if I want to figure it out, Deaton. I…don’t know if I’m keeping the baby.”