Grayson's Vow

"That sounds good. Thank you. Although I might not be the best company."

She turned and walked back toward the balcony where she stood looking out over the city. I joined her, leaning my forearms on the metal rail and looking over at her. She looked away, tilting her chin down as if attempting to hide her face from me.

"Hey," I said gently, standing up straight and turning toward her. I used my fingers to nudge her chin toward me. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She sucked in a sharp breath, a tiny sob coming up her throat. A bolt of protectiveness speared through me and I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. "Shh," I said, "it's okay." My throat felt tight as her body tensed in my arms, like she didn't know how to be held. God, growing up with no mother and a father like that, she probably didn't. I had only slightly more to draw upon, but enough to take the lead.

"Kira," I whispered, "relax. Let me hold you, sweetheart." She struggled weakly for a brief moment, but when I tightened my arms around her, she sagged into me and gave way to her tears.

Kira sobbed in my arms, her face buried in my chest for a long while. My gut tensed with pain as I bore witness to her misery. Finally, her sobs began to abate, and she raised her face to me. The tenderness that pulsed in my chest was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It vaguely concerned me, but I pushed my feelings aside and brushed my thumb across Kira's soft cheek, wiping away the wetness of her tears. She blinked, looking slightly confused, but relieved as well. I smoothed her hair back from her face. "It's okay," I said, "I'm here."

"Said The Dragon to the witch," she said softly, a small twinkle in her still-teary eyes. I laughed.

"There's my girl." She smiled softly and pulled away. My arms suddenly felt very empty. Kira sagged down onto one of the plastic balcony chairs and I sat down in the other one, a small plastic table between us.

"Will you tell me about it?" She leaned back in her chair, sighing, seeming to know I was asking what had sent her running off to Africa.

After taking a deep breath, she said, "I met Cooper at a charity event hosted by my father. I was home for the summer from my first year at college. My father had taken Cooper under his wing and was grooming him to win his first judgeship." She bit her lip and looked away for a moment. "Although my father's not in politics anymore, he's very involved in the San Francisco court system." Her eyes darted to me for a quick second and I wondered if she was thinking about my involvement with the San Francisco court system. Thankfully, though, I'd never come in contact with Frank Dallaire. She was quiet for a few moments. "Anyway, Cooper and I started dating and my father was so damned happy about it." She looked out at the horizon, seeming to be lost in memory. "It was the first time in my life I felt like I was pleasing him. It felt . . . well, I felt wanted. It was a heady feeling. Almost addictive," she mused, shaking her head dejectedly.

"So you never really loved Cooper?" I hated the tiny stab of jealousy at the mention of Kira with another man—even one who was mostly in her past. I shook it off.

"Oh, I thought I did, I suppose. He was all polish and country-club manners. My father thought we were a brilliant match and we'd perfectly balance each other. Cooper would finally tame me, and I would offer the Dallaire name to his campaign and his future career as a judge."

"What happened?" I asked, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach.

"We were engaged around Christmas and I, well, I gave him my virginity." She frowned and looked away for what seemed like a long time. My muscles were tensed and I consciously focused on relaxing. "I only tell you that because it relates to the rest of the story."

"Okay," I said.

Kira cleared her throat. "I planned to come home that summer and start wedding planning. Cooper was heavily involved in his first campaign and his team was working out of the St. Regis Hotel." Kira picked at her fingernail for a few seconds before continuing. "I got out of finals early and instead of going straight to the apartment my father kept for me here, I decided to surprise Cooper there." Her frown deepened. "Cooper had always seemed . . . displeased with me in bed. He never said it exactly, but he communicated the message clearly enough. I thought maybe if I surprised him, wore something . . . you get the idea." A blush rose in her cheeks. "Anyway, I went to his room and a member of his campaign opened the door, obviously expecting room service. He tried to stop me from going back to the bedroom, but I wouldn't let him and I walked in on Cooper with . . . women."

"Women? Plural?"

Kira nodded, her expression pained. "There was one under him and one behind him using some sort of . . ." She shook her head and closed her eyes, obviously trying to shake the image from her mind. "God . . ." She put her face in her hands for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

"I don't need a full description. I get the gist," I said, my voice sounding tight.

She nodded, looking relieved. "There were lines of what looked like cocaine on the coffee table, half-empty liquor bottles."

"Jesus," I said, moving my hand through my hair, picturing Cooper, the golden boy in his tennis whites this afternoon.

"Cooper . . . disengaged when he finally noticed me, but he was drunk or drugged or both. I don't know. He started off apologizing, but it disintegrated into him screaming at me about how he didn’t want a whore for a wife. He had actual whores for that." I tried to leave, but he pulled me and I fought him. We tumbled to the ground and he hit me, but I got away. Only as I turned to leave, he caught my ankle and I fell on the glass coffee table, breaking two of my ribs, banging up my face even more, and slicing up my arm. It had happened so fast, but I was a mess. There was blood everywhere. Members of Cooper's campaign team who had been in the other room came running. They got me out of there and called a doctor when we arrived at my father's home."