Forsaken Oath (Avalon Falls #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

ELOISE

The sharp smell of despair hits me before I even open the door. A nauseating combination of stale smoke, cheap booze, and mildew. I close my eyes, giving myself exactly three seconds to get my shit together. My stomach turns and my eyes burn with tears that won’t fall. I stopped letting them go seven years ago when my father died.

I inhale a fortifying breath, steeling my spine and opening my eyes. I’m not really worried about what I’ll find on the other side of the apartment door. It’s the never-ending cycle of quiet chaos that gets me sometimes. The kind that eats a hole inside your stomach and plants a thousand seeds of anxiety.

Every single night is the same: Ma passes out on the couch with the TV blaring and some sleazy asshole pawing at her while my little sisters stay holed up in our room.

Saturday shifts at the diner always leave me exhausted. The job itself isn’t too bad, and unlike my mother, I’m not afraid of hard work. But by the end of the week, I’m drained. I’m at the diner every minute I’m not in school.

Thank god for my boss, Jenny. She gives me more than the legal amount of hours and she never lets me leave without loading my arms full of food to bring home.

I shift the plastic bag of takeout containers on my arm, the weight digging the handle into my skin. Containers of broccoli cheese soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, both of which are my sisters’ favorites. I’m not too proud to admit that we’d be fucked without Jenny’s help.

Entering the apartment, she’s the first thing I see. Slumped back on the couch and dressed in the same pajama set she’s been wearing all week, Ma’s head lolls at an uncomfortable angle. Makeup smeared and half-conscious, she’s lost to whatever she’s taken tonight. If I squint really hard, she almost looks like she did in my memories. Before she had an affair, before she had Margot, before my dad died.

Low, masculine voices snap me from my reverie, and my head snaps toward the sound. My eyes narrow on the two men crowding my sisters’ bedroom door at the end of the hallway. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and the bags of food hit the carpet with a muted thud.

“Hey,” I snap, starting toward the hallway before I can think better of it. “What the hell are you doing?”

They turn as one, looking over their shoulders at me. I don’t recognize either of them, which doesn’t bode well for me. Most of Ma’s usual assholes will scamper off the moment they see me like the cockroaches they are.

But not these two. “Goddamnit, Darla,” I growl my mother’s name. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t so much as twitch.

I’ve forgiven my mother a lot over the years, but I’m so fucking tired of this shit with her. I plant my feet wide and pierce them with my best menacing glare, squeezing my hands into fists at my side. “Get the fuck outta my house.”

They smirk in unison, shifting their weight and cocking their heads to the side as they assess me. And I’m officially creeped out by their twinning routine.

The left one whistles, dragging his hand over his buzzed head. “Damn, don’t you look just like your momma, hm?”

The other guy nods slowly, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. “Nah, Billy. This one here’s prettier than Darla. Younger.” He pauses and sucks his teeth. “Less mileage .”

“Aye. We could get a BOGO with those two in there.” Billy jerks his head back toward my sisters’ bedroom door.

It takes everything inside of me to suppress the shiver of fear from visibly rolling down my back. My hands fly to my back pockets, palming my phone in one hand and my dad’s retractable knife in the other. I whip them both out, armed as well as I can be. I can call the emergency number with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back. It was the first thing I ever learned how to do on a phone.

The men chuckle, another strange display of synchronization.

“Who you gonna call, girlie? Ain’t no cops gonna come rescue you here,” the one guy says.

Billy lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug, lips in a slight smirk, eyes cold and calculating. “Not in time, anyway.”

Don’t I fucking know it. The police’s response time on this side of town is a fucking joke . They rely too much on the smaller crews keeping the peace in our town.

But I can’t just do nothing . Not when the photo they’re painting looks like something worse than hell. I hit the green call button and stare at them.

The nine-one-one operator’s voice fills the stale, charged air. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“Two men have broken into my apartment and they’re trying to assault me and my sisters. I’m seventeen, and my sisters are ten and five. Please send someone right away. I’m scared.” The words tumble out of me like sand falling from an hourglass.

“Okay, miss, please stay on the line with us. What’s your address? Where are you and your sisters now?” the operator asks.

I rattle off my address and hang up the phone. There’s no point in staying on the line and answering any more questions. They’ll either send someone out here or they won’t.

The two men stroll toward me with jovial chuckles. Like this is all some fun day at a park or something. I flatten my back against the wall, holding my knife in front of me. I keep my gaze trained on them so hard, I feel the throbbing of a vein in my forehead.

The one, Billy, stops in front of me. He’s close enough that I could lunge forward and do some serious damage. Maybe get lucky and nick something important. I adjust my grip on the handle and try to steady my breathing. But my chest feels tight, and I can’t calm myself down.

Billy reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. I recoil, pressing myself harder against the wall.

"Don't touch me," I hiss through clenched teeth.

He laughs, a cold, hollow sound. "Feisty. I like that." His eyes glint with malice.

I swallow hard, but the bile rises anyway. This is it. I knew this day was coming, but I was hoping I had more time.

Time to graduate. To save more money and get the fuck out of this town. To help my sisters get on their feet and get away from Ma.

The other man laughs, “C’mon, girlie. Your momma won’t mind if we have a little fun. She said we could take a look at your sisters, but it seems like you wanna take their place.”

Rage and terror war inside me. I can't let them hurt my sisters.

I won't.

Who the fuck is going to take care of them if this asshole kills me now?

Billy leans forward, dropping his face so it’s right in front of mine. I watch as his pupils blow wide, saliva coating the corner of his mouth as his lips part. “Don’t worry, girlie. We ain’t gonna kill ya. You’ll just wish we had.”

There’s a ringing filling my ears, and my vision blackens around the edges.

My time is up.

Time slows down, broken into pixelated moments. One second he’s sneering over me, and the next, he’s on the ground, clutching his ankle. Blood blooms underneath his hand, a slash of bright red in an otherwise black-and-white picture.

But that’s not what steals my attention. It’s my ten-year-old sister pushing to stand, kitchen knife clutched in her hand and a blank expression on her face.

It’s the emptiness in her blue eyes that jolts me into action. “Margot!” I lunge forward, wrap my arm around her shoulders, and shove her behind me.

I keep my blade pointed at Billy as he writhes on the ground, his friend frozen behind him. My heart hammers against my ribs, the rush of adrenaline making my hands tremble.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. I don’t know what to do now. I’m spiraling with panic, my breaths coming in choppy and too fast.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I snarl, my voice steadier than I feel. “Or the next cut goes across his throat.”

It’s the biggest bluff of my life, but I don’t know what else to do to get them to leave. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and I strain my hearing for sirens.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a charged silence. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, making sure my knife-wielding sister stays behind me. We’re going to be having a conversation about what she did, but later. Much later, when we’re far away from here.

“Help me up,” Billy grumbles, breaking the silence.

His friend reaches down and hauls him to his feet, pinning me with a glare that promises retribution. “This isn’t over.”

I don’t reply.

I don’t move until they hobble out the front door, slamming it behind them hard enough to rattle one of the picture frames on the wall.

I exhale a shaky breath, my hand trembling as I lower my knife. I turn to face Margot, my heart aching at the sight of her wide, haunted eyes.

"Margot," I say softly, reaching out to take the kitchen knife from her hand. "Are you okay?"

She nods slowly, her gaze distant. "I couldn't let them hurt you, Eloise."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. My brave, fierce little sister. “That was the dumbest, bravest thing you’ve ever done.” I wrap my free hand around her and roughly tug her into a hug. I don’t let myself linger, not when my adrenaline is popping and fizzing like firecrackers inside my veins. The urgency to leave is pounding against my skull, and I just know that if I don’t leave now, we never will.

We’re gonna die in this shithole unless I get us out.

I release her and run to the door. Flicking both of the locks over, I point my knife at my sister. “Pack everything you can’t live without. Put it in garbage bags if you have to. We’re leaving. You, me, and Vivie. And we’re not coming back.”

Margot’s eyes go wide, but she doesn’t argue. She spins around on her heel, her hair flying out behind her, and barrels down the hallway toward their room.

I glance at the couch, where Mom’s starting to stir. “What’s going on?”

I advance toward her, my arms flying wide. “ What’s going on ?” the words seethe through my clenched teeth. Disbelief and horror tangle together inside of me, wrapped up so tight I can barely breathe. “Congratulations, Darla . You’re officially relieved of your motherly duties.”

She blinks in response, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “What’re you on about now?”

My arms hit my legs with a thwack, the rage sucked out of me faster than a deflated balloon. She’s not in the right headspace to even comprehend my anger. “I’m taking the girls, and we’re leaving.”

She shuffles forward, planting her hands on the couch cushion like she’s going to get up. “Oh. We goin’ for ice cream again? You’re buyin’ right?”

“No,” I bark, shaking my head quickly. “You’re staying here. The girls and I are leaving, and we’re not coming back. Not ever.”

I watch her thoughts tumble over one another as she tries to make sense of them. After a minute of silence, I walk backward down the hallway. It doesn’t take me long to pack, and five minutes later, I’m hustling my sisters out the front door.

Ma just watches us without saying a word. I get the girls in my car, and when I go back inside, Ma’s standing in the kitchen, holding my tote bag full of food.

Her lips are pinched into a scowl, one hand planted on her hip.

Is she going to make a plea for us to stay? I hate that I’ve got a seedling of hope that she is. That she suddenly decided in the last ten minutes that she actually wants to be a mother.

I reach for the handles of the tote bag, and she jerks it out of reach. I make myself set flame to that sprouted hope. Locking all my emotions down as I watch it burn into ash.

“What do you want?” This was always the way it was going to be, wasn’t it? Nothing with my mother is ever easy. She takes and takes and takes .

“The way I see it, I could call the cops right now. Tell them my adult daughter kidnapped my babies,” she drawls. “You’d go to prison.”

I shake my head and grit my teeth. “I’m still a fucking minor, Darla. Or did you forget that? What do you want?”

She arches a brow and looks at me. “If you leave, how am I supposed to pay rent? And food?”

I roll my eyes and snatch the bag out of her hands. “Why don’t you try getting a job?” I turn away from her and beeline for the front door.

“Eight hundred,” she says.

I stop with my hand on the doorknob and look over my shoulder at her. My mouth parts as I feel the color drain from my face.

“Eight hundred a month. Every month. Or I call the cops and report you as a runaway and a kidnapper.” She lifts a shoulder and stares at me through dark eyes. “And I’m sure I could rustle up some people to verify that you brought drugs into my home.”

I grit my teeth so hard, I hear something in my jaw pop. It doesn’t matter that I doubt anyone would believe her. If I’m tangled up with the cops, then there’s no one to look out for my sisters. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened tonight if I didn’t get home when I did.

Tears fill my eyes as I blindly grab the cash from my crossbody purse. All five hundred and seventy-three dollars of my tips for the last four weeks.

It’s not enough. Nothing ever is when it comes to her. But I throw it at her anyway, the bills scattering across the dingy carpet between us.

Mom’s eyes light up as drops to her knees and scrambles to collect the cash. “Same time next month,” she says without looking up, her voice softening as she stuffs bills into her bra. “Don’t forget.”

The words hang in the air, and I hate her for saying them. For thinking this is normal. For making it normal .