Promise

Chapter 4: Hope

Robyn

Dad was with Mom when she stopped by the studio for our weekly lunch.

"What? Now you're retired so you're crashing on my time with Mom?" I chuckled, sliding into the back seat. "Don't you get enough of her already?"

"I could never get enough of my sunshine," Dad smiled. "And since when do I need to justify seeing my favorite child?"

"Parents aren't supposed to have favorites."

"Sure, right. No favorites." He ruffled my hair from the front seat and set the car in drive.

Anthony Hale was a terrifying man. More terrifying than Damon. Vicious, violent, controlled everything. Anyone who had a name worth remembering was in Dad's pocket. Before he stepped down and let Damon take over, he loved being in power. The name that sent tremors into people's homes. The name everyone knew.

But then there was Dad. Sweet, jovial, head-over-heels whipped and in love with Maria Hale, would die for his kids in a heartbeat Dad. The Dad who knew, more than anything else, that family came first and loyalty was above all.

Dad loved her with every fiber of his being. He would kill anyone who ever thought about hurting my mother, down to taking the bullet himself. Every day, he worked to make her happy and hid the reality of his job from her for her own protection. Mom was like me, she didn't want anything to do with the family business but she loved my father too much to stay away.

They were such an old couple–one who still left each other notes signed off as your friend, because that was what they did when they were younger. Damon and I used to make fun of them when we were younger. But now, we were older and wiser and understood that real love like that was nearly impossible to come by.

I never felt like I was adopted in this family. I lived a life full of love and affection, grew up coddled by my parents and my big brother, and was always happy.

Mom gave me a quick smile and put her warm hand on my cheek.

"Oui, we just picked her up," she said to someone on the phone. I furrowed my brows. "D'accord. Meet us there. Au revoir."

"Who was that?"

"Your brother," she answered. "He called to ask me if I wanted to get lunch, so I told him to just join us."

"Oh wow, so everyone's intruding on my mom and daughter time," I hummed, blowing my hair out of my face.

"What could you possibly have to talk to your mother about that I can't know?" Dad shot me a look through the rear-view mirror.

"Tons of stuff: shoes, clothes, makeup," I started.

"All of which you have no interest in," Dad drawled. He was right. I didn't care for any of that. I liked clothes a decent amount, but my Docs and light makeup were good for me.

"Boys," Mom winked.

"Or lack thereof," I completed, looking out the window as we cruised through the streets. Cruised was an exaggeration—more like moved at a snail's pace frequently punctuated by traffic and stop signs.

"Excellent," Dad nodded. "As it should be."

"Dad, you can't protect me from everything, you know. At some point, I might actually find someone."

"Not if I can help it," he murmured, pulling into a parking lot of a new Thai restaurant.

The four of us loved food. We liked trying out new places all the time. From a young age, Mom taught Damon and I how to cook. He loved it a lot more than I did but while I knew my way around a kitchen well enough, it was baking I was passionate about.