The Promise (Neighbor from Hell #10)(91)

The dog threw her one last dirty look that promised all sorts of retaliation and took off through the brush where she hoped he finished his business. He had a nasty habit of leaving his little “packages” as her Grandmother Powers used to call them, around her truck. She didn’t care what Nathan said. She wasn’t paranoid.

That dog was out to get her.

Wiping her hands off on her pajama pants, she walked back into the house, deciding this would be the perfect opportunity to have a hassle free breakfast. Something she hadn’t had since she moved in with Nathan after she’d left Craig.

It was funny how four months ago her biggest complaint was Craig throwing the newspaper away before she could read it. Their mornings together had been quiet, relaxing, and comfortable. The only thing that interrupted their quiet routine had been the talk of the wedding. The wedding that should have happened two months ago, but didn’t thanks to Craig and the cashier at Anne Marie’s Bakery.

Apparently, Craig liked his coffee with a little something extra, and Beth provided it. Of course, their break up probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the two of them hadn’t stumbled out of the employee bathroom with their pants down around their ankles for all the customers to see, including her. Then again, she probably would have survived that humiliating moment if Craig hadn’t taken the opportunity to announce to one and all that she was horrible in bed. That had also led to him pointing out that she was too damn fat to turn any man on.

Instead of yelling at him or at least bitch slapping him, Sam had been left speechless. Later, of course, she’d thought of a hundred different things she could have said to him. That always happened to her. She was really horrible at handling confrontation, which was probably why her high school debate teacher had handed her a library pass the second week of school with a look of pity and told her she could skip class for the rest of the year. It had been humiliating, but at least she didn’t have to worry about passing out and hitting her head on the podium, again.

Nathan, “the gifted one” as she liked to call him, never had to worry about having the right thing to say at the right time. He was smooth, confident, funny, and if anyone was stupid enough to piss him off he usually just beat the hell out of him.

The only good thing about the news of her humiliation spreading through the small town like wildfire was that it had brought Nathan to the little bakery when Sam couldn’t do more than sputter and pray that she didn’t add to her humiliation by passing out. Her brother simply strolled into the bakery, nodded in greeting to a few friends before coming to stand next to her. He looked from her red face to Craig’s lipstick smeared mouth and wrinkled clothes and smiled like it was Christmas morning. Although Nathan had been disappointed that it had only taken one punch to knock Craig out, she’d honestly never seen him happier.

He’d actually whistled a jaunty tune as he’d put his arm around her shoulders and led her out the door, but not before he’d drop-kicked Craig in the stomach for good measure. That really seemed to make his day. Not even the four hours during one of the hottest days of the summer they’d spent packing up her junk and moving it out of the small house she’d shared with Craig could dampen his mood. For weeks afterwards, she’d look over at him when he sighed dreamily and found him once again smiling fondly.

She flicked on the kitchen light as she walked into the dark room. Why anyone would build the kitchen on the south side of the house, she would never know. Granted, whoever built this house probably hadn’t foreseen two generations of Powers ignoring the upkeep of the property.

Sam walked over to the large porcelain sink and yanked open the yellowed curtains, revealing what should have been a beautiful sight. Instead, all she saw a large ratted nest of briars, old leaves, and twigs with just a hint of sunlight peeking through. She groaned as she reached over and flicked on the coffeepot. It was just another sad reminder of all the work that was waiting for her.

Not that she was really complaining. Thanks to all the work around the house and property she was able to stay busy when she wasn’t working at the hospital. It made pretending that she didn’t have a social life by choice that much easier, because of course, no one would believe that she had to rush home right after work every single night because she missed Charlie, the bane of her existence.

She reached over the coffee machine and opened the cabinet that had seen better days and sighed when the handle broke off in her hand. Without batting an eye, she tossed the rusted handle onto the counter to join the rest and reached into the cabinet for her blueberry pop tarts and almost cried when all she found was an empty box.

Damn it.

She’d have to settle for strawberry pop tarts, her second favorite. She’d really been looking forward to starting her day with some blueberry goodness. Oh well, she thought, placing her breakfast tarts in the toaster. At least she could look forward to eating her breakfast in peace without a hundred-pound hound from hell stealing her food.

Just as the mouthwatering aroma of heated strawberry and icing hit her nose the light in the kitchen flickered out. Her eyes automatically shot to the coffee pot that had just been warming up and ready to spurt out the lifesaving elixir only to find the red light off.

Sam grumbled as she grabbed the flashlight off the counter and extra fuses for the fuse box and headed for the pale-yellow basement door that had been the star of most of her childhood nightmares. It figured that the one time she needed Charlie he was off terrorizing squirrels. It didn’t matter that she was a grown woman, she hated going down into the old cellar.