Promises

"Can I see?"

"Rory, it's not a big deal."

"Please, Vikki. Just let me see." I understood immediately that, for whatever reason, it was something he needed.

Sitting up fully, I moved over on the edge of the bed to give him room to sit next to me. He was hesitant before lowering himself down. With my back to him, I grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt and pulled it upward, exposing my back to him. I knew, from experience, the blocks and lines of bruises that would be starting to form. "Oh GOD" He breathed sharply, and I watched him over my shoulder as his eyes scanned every inch of my bared skin.

Slowly, he reached forward and placed the very tips of his finger across my spine, tracing the outline of purpling skin. He barely brushed a few inches before pulling his hand away sharply and closing his eyes. It wasn't until I lowered my shirt and turned back to face him that he opened them again, tears far too obvious in them as he hung his head. "How could anyone hurt you, Vik? I just can't understand that."

He wasn't looking for an answer, not one that could be expressed in words, anyway, and it was all I could do to wipe a tear from his face. "Before you got there he said that I was just payback because he hated you and Rich."

"Hated us why? But whatever it was of course he would deal with shit the coward's way. I would have gladly given him that ass beaten any time he didn't need to go through you."

"Maybe because I graced you two with my presence."

"How can you make jokes in at time like this?"

Leaning forward, I put my forehead up against his. "I can joke because my big brother's best friend makes me feel safe. I know that as long as he's here for me, things will be okay, and I trust him more than anyone else in the world."

He sighed. "I feel the same way about my best friend's little sister."

I chuckled lightly at his response, feeling vaguely as though we had had the exchange before. "You feel safe with me?" I teased, referring to how small and nonthreatening I was.

"Absolutely. Safe to be myself and to be honest. Safe to make mistakes." He stopped, but rather than wonder what he was about to say, I focused on keeping my heart steady. I needed to keep my thoughts in the right place.

"Safe to do what else?"

"You are so not twelve years old anymore."

I was laughing lightly. "In what ways are you referring?"

"Several." I looked at him in a way that said he needed to go on. "You can actually functionally play video games, you dive off the dock, and I have photographic evidence that shows you wore a dress."

The last one left me chuckling. "Anything else?"

He paused, chewing his words. "One more."

I gave him a second to go on, but he didn't. "And that would be?"

His lips pressed against mine suddenly, sending all the air from my chest. Just as quickly, his hand found the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. Without hesitation and without allowing myself time to think, I returned his kiss, eagerly. His lips were sweet and gently firm. I pulled him closer.

Shyly, his tongue brushed against my lips, as if unsure, but I met it with my own, hoping he would understand that as encouragement. Rising to my knees to turn myself more towards him, I was surprised when he hands found my thighs and slid me up against him, my legs on either side of his, and pulled me back down. Our lips never separated as his kissing intensified and deepened, tongues exploring each other's mouths.

One hand weaved through my hair as the other braced my lower back, keeping me against him, as if I would ever consider wanting to leave. I couldn't think, not knowing what to do with myself, continually moving my hands across his back, arms, neck, through his hair. He rocked gently, rubbing himself up against me through the thin fabric of my shorts. I met his movement, immediately intoxicated by the sensation. With his palm flat on my lower back, he guided me, bringing me down and in, slowly, sensually.

Letting out a sigh against my lips, he lifted me slightly and lowered me backwards onto the bed, never allowing his body to lose contact with mine for even a second. He lay on top of me, body still between my legs. With my knees pulled up, the loose legs of the shorts slid down toward my hips, exposing more of my skin to him. Still kissing me deeply, he gripped my thigh in one hand, sliding along my smooth leg until his fingers brushed just under the short legs. Without venturing any farther, he lifted his hand and resettled it on my covered hip, this time toying with the hem of my shirt.

My hopes alone of what he planned to do were enough to elicit a small moan. He began rocking against me again, very lightly, while slipping his hand underneath my shirt on onto my bare stomach. His skin was erotically warm against my own, and I pulled him closer, gripping onto his t-shirt as if it were my final lifeline.

His hand slid further up, slowly following every curve until just below my breast, then back downward. Our lips pressed together with more force, almost frantically. Once his fingers came back to my hip, he gripped me with both hands and rocked me downward against him. His firm body pushed against me in all the right places and I wrapped my fingers further into his shirt, maintaining what bit of self-control I had left to keep from calling out. Not loosening his grip, he rocked me downward again, bringing himself up to meet me.

"Uh!" No longer able to hold it in, I moaned against his lips.

Quickly, too quickly, he pushed himself away from me, "shit," and stood from the bed. "Oh, shit. That didn't just happen. Shit." Covering his face with his hand and shaking his head, he started toward the door. "Goodnight, Vikki."

Torn from my euphoria, I couldn't understand what just happened; only that he was walking away. "Wait! Rory, I'm sorry. Please don't go."

"Just go to sleep, Vikki. I'll be on the couch."

"Wait! Don't go. Please. Don't leave me alone. Not tonight. Please." He stood in the doorway, weight slightly forward as if he were readying himself to leave at any moment. "You can't let me out of your sight, right?" A wavering smirk raised the smallest portion of his lip, and he settled himself back onto his heels.

"Sounds about right." His tone gave the feeling of defeat, yet not unpleasantly. "Just let me shower, okay. Five minutes and then I'll be right back." I nodded, still trying to maintain my composure, and watched him leave the room.

Nothing made sense. What had just happened? I spent the first couple minutes of his shower hitting my head against the pillow, trying to straighten out at least one thought. When that didn't work, I flipped off the light and curled myself into a ball. He was mad at me. He had to be. Was he in the shower washing me off of him the way I had washed Devon off of me? Unable to take the thoughts, I squeezed my eyes as tightly as I could and silently begged for sleep. "Vikki?" His voice was soft in the darkness. I heard his bare feet on the carpet as he walked into the room. I did not open my eyes.

The mattress shifted underneath me as he sat and then lowered himself down onto the bed, he lay on his side toward me. "I know you're still awake. You breathe differently when you sleep." He smelled like perfection, and I couldn't ignore him.

Opening my eyes, I saw him looking right back at me, his every feature gentle and kind. There was no anger or annoyance. It was the same face I had known for years. "I thought you might not come back in."

His hands closed around mine, bringing them close to his chest. "I'm right here." His nearness was comforting, though my head was spinning in confusion and conflicting feelings. My lips tingled, my heart was unsteady; I didn't know what to do. One of his hands found my cheek and brushed the hair off of my face, making me feel light. "Just go to sleep, Vik." The soft voice, just as it had always been. "I'll be right here."

Closing my eyes, it didn't take long before I felt myself being dragged into sleep. Slowly, my body grew limp, but he still held firmly onto my hand, a constant reminder that he was still there for me.

Devon grabbed me, pulling me away forcefully, screaming things at me that I couldn't hear, before throwing me to the ground. His brother stood over me, too, smiling in the most frightening way. Scrambling, I tried backing away, but immediately hit a wall. They came forward, closer and closer, both starting to laugh.

I jolted awake, immediately recognizing where I was but still feeling exposed. "Rory?" I whispered gently, desperately hoping he wouldn't refuse what I was about to ask. "Rory, will you hold me? You can say no if you want."

"Come here." There was no hesitation and no annoyance. There was only concern. He opened his arms and pulled me into him. Flat on his back, he guided my head to his chest and secured me in his arms. Draping my arm over him, I couldn't help but sigh in relief. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his arms, it was exactly what I needed. He ran his fingers through my hair and slowly massaged the nape of my neck. "I told you I'd always be here to hold you. I'm never letting you go."

Still confused, my lips still tingling, I fell asleep. *** The second I woke up, I knew something was wrong. I felt well rested and the air smelled faintly of the sweetly scented shampoo I had used the night before. My head lay against the pillow on Rory's bed, and his covers wrapped around my body. The sheets were warm and welcoming. But overcoming me more than any of those things, was the simple fact that I was alone.

I sat up, looking around the room as if it would provide me some answers. No matter what, my eyes kept falling back to the empty spot beside me on the bed. To the void. Thinking that I would not get any answers by remaining where I was, I rolled myself out, resting my bare feet on the carpet and standing.

Bathroom or kitchen. Those were the two obvious options if he got up and left it had to be for a good reason. After what had happened the night before, after what he had said. The door to the bathroom hung open, light off. I looked inside anyway, but as expected, found it empty. Moving to the end of the hall, the kitchen came into view next, illuminated only by the glow of sun coming through the window.

I turned the corner, already filling with a twinkle of excitement at the thought of seeing Riley standing there. My thoughts flew to him wrapping me in his arms, and my heart gave a flutter. I twirled around the corner, and saw nothing. An empty kitchen.

Everything that had risen inside of me dropped unceremoniously. I was alone. There had to be something. He had to be somewhere, but there was nowhere left to look in the small apartment. I sank into a chair at the table, placing my face in my hands and trying to make sense of anything I could. Just then, I saw it, a yellow paper pinned by magnet to the refrigerator.

Vikki had to go to work. Call Rich so he can bring you home.

That was all there was. No kind wishes or shows of concern. Not even a signature. I read over it again, and then again. No matter how many times I read it, it stayed the same. Slowly, I rose to my feet and walked back to Rory's empty room. Having no other true options, I dug my phone out of the pocket of my abandoned skirt and dialed Rich's number.

The boys were all there, running along the beach and jumping through the water, spirits high. It wasn't the first time I had seen them since the incident, during which time they had all told me every violent vile thing they hoped and planned to do to Devon. It had only been a week, enough time for most of my bruises to fade, but no time at all when it came to my nightmares stopping. Everyone welcomed me back readily, as if I had never left the group, and it made moving forward that much easier. Even so, things did not feel quite right.

Rory had spoken very little to me during that time, cutting my calls short, the times he actually answered them, and not showing up at our house or other outings nearly as often as he normally would have. No matter how much I tried. I couldn't make sense of it.

I sat at the edge of the water, my feet getting brushed over by the ebb, wearing nothing but my bikini. The late afternoon air was hot, warming the lake to the perfect temperature, but I hadn't found the nerve to go in any further. My toes pushed through the wet sand, feeling stiff yet smooth. I knew Rory had been avoiding me, but I couldn't figure out why, though not from lack of a million different scenarios going through my head. He was tired of helping me. He was fed up with all my crying. He was angry that I hadn't listened to him for so long. The worst though, by far, was that he was disgusted by being around me. He knew what Devon had done to me, he knew what Devon and I had done in the past, and it nauseated him.

Listening to the boys splash around in the water, I dropped my head to my knees, wanting to keep my thoughts from going back there. I knew how much I cared about Rory, but I hadn't truly known how much I needed him until he wasn't there anymore. Taking deep breaths, I began to think it would have been better if I'd just stayed home. "Now, Vik, you can do this the easy way or the hard way." The voice behind me made me jump, and I felt the onset of panic as confusion riffled through me. "Easy way you walk in, hard way I throw you."

It took me a moment before I could turn around and face him, needing to hold my composure. "I don't think today's my day for swimming."

He gave me a small mischievous grin. "Wrong answer punk." He scooped me up over his shoulder and jogged us into the water, throwing me down as soon as it was deep enough.

"Now it's war!" I jumped to him and pulled him with all my strength. Laughing, he dragged me down with him. Splashing, throwing, dunking, we joined the others in their fun. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy and perfectly at ease.

The fire started a few hours later as the sun went down and the temperature went with it. I pulled a black cotton pool dress on over my bikini, keeping the cool breeze from chilling me too much. I sank down into the sand a few feet from the fire, enjoying the heat on my face. "Having fun is exhausting, huh?" Rory lowered himself down next to me, his hair thrown in every direction.

"I forgot how exhausting it can be." He laughed with me. We both sat watching the flames. "Hey, you haven't gotten in trouble for well you know?"

To my relief, he shook his head. "No. It doesn't look like he said anything about it to anyone, so I'm good. He gets in enough fights that no one would really think anything of it anyway. Don't worry, okay?" He knocked his shoulder into me gently, smiling.

"I'll try not to."

"He hasn't tried getting a hold of you or anything has he? I'm still willing to beat him up more if necessary. Even if not so necessary, I'd still be more than happy to. Felt a lot better than I ever imagined it would." The smile faded a bit as he looked into the fire and then finally back to me. "Your bruises look like they've softened up a bit." His fingers moved to my cheek bone, tracing it gently.

"Y-yeah," my heart was sped up unceremoniously. "Doesn't really hurt too much anymore." All at once, the wind was cooling me, making me shiver.

"Are you cold? Here you can you be cold?" His eyes went back to the fire looking away from me. He had started to open his arms to me, but they came together again. I wanted to say something to him, but no words came to me. The crackling of the fire and the boys still splashing off in the distance were the only sounds to break the silence. Finally, he opened his arms again, "You'll get yourself sick if you stay in the wind like that."

"I'll be fine. You don't have to."

"You moving three feet now will save me from having to make chicken noodle soup later." His smile was inviting, though not as bright as I had known it to be. Even so, I scooted toward him, and the second I was within reach, he pulled me to him, bringing me between his knees and wrapping his arms across my chest.

There was the smallest degree of stiffness in the way he held me, so small that I would never had noticed if not for all the hours I had spent thinking about his arms, knees, chest, fingers, everything. Even so, my body relaxed into him. The warmness of his skin perfectly contrasted the cool night air. "You're amazing, Riley." I whispered the words, not quite sure if I should be saying them, but needing to.

He exhaled shortly, shooting the air from his lungs and leaning his chin against my head. "About time you realized it," he whispered in response. "You know, Vikki, I never thought..." he stopped, shaking his head and looking to the fire. "I have to go." He stood, releasing me from him arms. "I just, I need to go." Just like the week before in his bedroom, he was walking away.

"Rory? Rory!" Scrambling to my feet, I took a few steps after him.

"Jus, I don't know I need some time."

"Rory!" He did not turn around, but walked quickly toward his car at the side of the beach. If my pulse slowed for even a moment, it may have allowed my heart to sink in my chest, but it simply beat frantically and unsteady. I couldn't move, even to chase him. His car door slammed, headlights scanning over the sand as he pulled away.

"Boy trouble?" I turned to face Rich, seeing a knowing look on his face as he stood just a few feet behind me.

"Rory troubles." I corrected.

"Is there a difference?" Moving toward me, that same expression did not leave his features. To an extent, he was right. Rory troubles were boy troubles, but they were also so much more. They were best friend troubles. Life troubles. I felt empty without him. "He's hurting, you know."

"I don't understand."

He stepped forward until he was almost uncomfortably close to me, looking down into my tearing eyes. "Vikki, you're my sister, and I love you, but you can be so stupid, and you don't even realize it." His voice wasn't harsh, but the words burned me nonetheless. The softness in his eyes said that he didn't mean to hurt me, but tough love was the only option left. "You know Stacy broke up with him because of you."

Shock and confusion filled me. I thought of all the times he talked about her, how in love with her he had been. "No. No, that's not what he said."

"You thought that she broke up with him because you took too much attention away from her, but that wasn't it. She saw how he acted around you and how he took care of you, and she also saw something that he didn't see then. Vikki, Stacy broke up with Rory because she knew that one day he would stop seeing you as a little girl, and when that day came, she wouldn't be able to compete with you."

Frantically, I shook my head. "Well she was stupid and wrong."

"Victoria. Listen to me, okay? Rory asked you to prom because he knew he would have a great time with you, and with Stacy refusing to go with him, there was no one else he would have rather taken than you. But there was another reason, too, way in the back of his mind. He needed to prove her wrong; he needed to prove to himself that he could be with you in an intimate setting and feel nothing. It backfired completely."

As calmly and clearly as he spoke, the words still refused to connect properly. "He calls me his little sister, Rich! He's introduced me to people as his little sister. That isn't the way that a guy would act toward a girl he's supposedly liked."

"Since prom?"

"What?" My head was spinning.

"Has he introduced you to anyone as his little sister since prom? Has he dated anyone or even so much has been on a date since prom?" I didn't need to think. As soon as he asked the question, I knew the answer. I dropped my gaze back to the fire, no longer able to look my brother in the eye. "And before you start reasoning that prom was years ago, think about it. Think about how he's held you and the things he's said to you. Are those ways guys act toward girls they just want to be friends with? And then, of all the stupid, ridiculous, heartless things you could do, you start dating Devon, the one guy Rory told you to stay away from. The guy everyone told you to stay away from. Even then, Rory was always there for you, while you were making him sit there and wait. How heartlessly naïve could you be?" His started to raise his voice. I turned my eyes further away.