The Promise (Neighbor from Hell, #10)(8)

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 up toward 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 Jackson 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 that 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 fingertips 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.