Page 25 of Don't Make Promises
NINE
Noah
I’m reclined on the large navy L-shaped couch watchingESPNwhen the front door swings open just after seven. It’s been a long day and my meeting with Dew and Olsen didn’t go so well. It’s never a good thing when you have a combative CEO, and the antics of my business partner—who didn’t even fucking show up—didn’t help. Apparently Teddy and Mr. Olsen’s granddaughter haven’t been in touch.
Even if Teddy had been in contact, I don’t think I’d have anything more to say to him than ‘fuck you, Teddy’.
Savannah and Sutton stumble through the door. It bangs on the wall, bouncing off and closing behind them. Seemingly unaware of the damage they’re causing, they giggle to themselves, a low hum of chatter emanating from them.
With the sportscaster talking excitedly about a punt return from a game the other night, I can’t make out what exactly Savannah and Sutton are saying. It at least looks like they’ve had fun and done some bonding. Part of me is happy they’re getting along because it means there won’t be any drama. But another part is worried about how much of our past Savannah might share.
Sutton’s face lights up when she sees me, her speech slightly slurred when she says, “Noah, great, you’re here.” She grabs hold of Savannah’s hand, dragging her across the open space until they’re standing at the back of the couch.
Now that they’re closer to me, I see the matching flushes covering their cheeks and the glassy eyes staring back at me. At least from Sutton. Savannah hasn’t so much as looked at me, her focus on the TV, although I doubt she’s actually watching it.
Sutton speaks, pulling mine and Savannah’s attention to her. “You’ll do it, won’t you? I said you would so you can’t not. I mean, that would kind of be a dick move. Especially for your best friend’s little sister in her time of need.”
My eyebrows rise in question, silently asking what exactly it is that she’s signed me up for. I ignore the frustration bubbling away inside of me at the fact that Savannah has yet to look in my direction. It irks me but it shouldn’t.
Savannah turns to Sutton, her back to me as she rests a hand on Sutton’s arm, muttering something to her that I can’t hear.
Completely unfazed by Savannah’s hushed tones, Sutton replies to her in a louder voice, “No, because he might try and hurt you again.”
My stomach clenches and a heat flashes through my body.Who hurt Savannah?
I’ll fucking kill them.
It’s what Jack would want. He’d do the same. He would feel like this. Conflicting thoughts barrage me as I try and fail to process what Sutton could mean. Berating thoughts for feeling this way about someone that isn’t Sutton and justifying ones, because it’s Savannah.
They continue their conversation, cutting me out. Leaving me to fantasize about all the ways to end a man. At least until I catch myself. I’m not normally a violent person, but there’s just something about Savannah, a need ingrained so deep inside of me to protect her.
I move toward the edge of the couch, desperately trying to listen in and understand who hurt Van. A tightness pulls in my chest as I try to figure out what has happened.
Why am I feeling like this?
In an attempt to silence the noise inside my head, I ask, “Is someone going to clue me in?”
Silence falls over them before Sutton turns to face me. “Well, I was mistaken.” Her eyes dart to Savannah before returning to me. I don’t believe her for a second. “But, would you mind going with Savannah tomorrow to collect her things from her ex’s?”
I don’t even consider it, replying, “Sure.”
It’s what Jack would want and goes hand in hand with his request for me to look out for his little sister. That’s all this is. These feelings of anger at Savannah being mistreated are just because she’s like a sister to me. Nothing more.
I breathe out, my shoulders relaxing as I lean back into the couch. That’s all it is.
Sutton claps her hands together. “Great. I’m going to put my things away and then we can figure out dinner.” With that, she leaves the room.
I’m staring at the TV, not really seeing what’s playing out. My mind is a whirlwind of confused thoughts that I don’t have the capacity to process right now.
I feel a headache starting. Rubbing at my temples, I tip my head back against the sofa, releasing a heavy sigh. Is it too much to ask for a break? It just seems to be one thing after the other recently.
Breaking me from my thoughts, Savannah says, “Thank you for offering, but you really don’t need to come with me tomorrow. I only went along with it because Sutton’s had a few too many and it’s not worth gettin’ in a tussle over.”
“I said I would.”
Under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear, she utters, “Right, ‘cause you mean everything you say.”
Her nose is wrinkled in an infuriatingly adorable way as she shakes her head. It’s on the tip of my tongue to call her out on her shit, to tell her that for as long as she lives under my roof, she can’t keep bringing up the past. But she picks up her bags and heads in the direction of her room.