Chapter Fourteen:
Hard Promises

Carly pushed the door of the chapel open with authority and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She walked straight to the curb, getting as far away from temperature controlled air, the fluorescent lights of the lobby, the pervasive smell of lemon, and took a deep breath, sucking real world air into her lungs. There was a warm wind pushing its way along the street, making the air feel thin and insubstantial. It was contaminated with the smell of cigarettes and fuel exhaust. She raised her head, looking up at the sky, hoping to find something sharper, less tainted, in the heavens.

She was losing her battle. From the moment she'd seen Nikolas at the hospital that afternoon, she'd been gripped by a panic that she had no words to describe, and a diminishing ability to fight. Now, with everything said and done, vows spoken, papers signed, it was threatening to leave her stranded in anxiety forever.

Her eyes were losing focus and the lights along the street all blurred. The lights, all of them, were luminous, with crosses of light pointing out in compass directions, rotating a little when Carly cocked her head to one side. The sky looked artificial, like a translucent tarp tossed over head. The color was faded from the light pollution and there were no stars. She breathed in again, the same dirty and infected air.

It didn't make her feel any better. She felt the lights dim again, just as they had in the chapel, and she began pushing the air out of her, only to pull it back in out of necessity. She didn't want to be here. She wanted, suddenly and desperately, to be transported anywhere else. She needed to think, and she wasn't going to be able to do it here.

“Are you all right?”

“What the hell did we just do?” Carly expelled the words from her chest along with a ragged breath, as she turned on the pavement to face her new husband. He was standing, framed in the doorway for the chapel, looking at her with concern.

Nikolas let the door slip from his fingers. He heard the chimes sound, hopefully for the last time, as the door swung shut. “I don't know. But it feels good.”

Carly gave him a weak smile and held her breath, refusing to let it escape again. She tried to ignore the pedestrians who passed in the gulf of sidewalk between them.

“So now what?” The quake in Carly's voice didn't translate over the distance, but she looked down, spinning her bouquet in her hand, trying to avoid his eyes anyway.

“That's up to you.”

More people passed between them, causing Nikolas to miss her reaction to the statement. He glimpsed her bite her lip and looked away, her shoulders tensed. She knew the right answer to this question, even if it did grab her with an unreal sense of fear.

“We have to go back,” she stared down the street, suppressing an urge to shiver.

Nikolas' expression twitched ever so slightly. “I know.”

Carly turned back to face him, her eyes meeting his. “So why are we standing here?”

Nikolas stepped away from the door and moved across the walkway towards her. He reached her and took her free hand in his examining the back on her hand while he tried to figure out how to make his suggestion.

“Because… There's another choice.”

Carly fell against the wall, hitting her back hard, and allowing the air rush out of her lungs. It was stale and processed, this time. Treated air… was nothing just clean in this town? Or was she the force behind all this bad oxygen? She closed her eyes, bringing more air in, picturing it gathering in her lungs, mixing with the sickness, the anger and the guilt… definitely the guilt. She pushed it out of her again, hearing the key turning in the lock of the hotel room, and pictured little cells of bad feelings floating off down the hall to ambush some unsuspecting soul. She smiled slightly at the idea, of being able to affect the day of someone who hadn't even had the misfortune of meeting her, let alone marrying her. Her eyes snapped open and she turned, still leaning against the wall, to look at Nikolas.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice betraying more than a touch of boredom. Nikolas' face clouded immediately. Carly was being strange. Even for her, she was being strange. It had started the moment they'd stepped out of the chapel, and he mood had stilled and become very distant over the course of the cab ride to the hotel. She'd agreed to this readily, but Nikolas now found himself replaying the conversation over in his head, looking for any signs of coercion or undo pressure on his part. He slid the key into his pocket.

“We don't have to do this.”

Carly laughed slightly, rolling her eyes. “Oh, of course we do.” She reached over and twisted the doorknob. “You might as well get what you paid for.”

With that, she opened the door and walked into the darkened room, leaving Nikolas, stunned, in the hallway.

Deep breath, he told himself. She was probably just… adjusting. Still. He'd probably be adjusting too, if he weren’t so busy watching her adjust. This wasn't so out of character… After all. If there was one thing he'd managed to learn about Carly thus far, it was that she was defensive. Defensive to the degree that he wondered if she was devoted to raising it to an art form. He saw the light in the room turn on, and shook himself, following her into the room and pulling the door shut behind them.

“I'm supposed to carry you over the threshold,” Nikolas forced his voice to remain steady, even light. He wasn't going to let this escalate. This was their wedding night. For all the insanity of how they came here, it was still important. Maybe more so.

Carly didn't respond. She was staring at the room. She had expected it to be nice. Just… not like this. There was a large picture window at the far end of the room, the curtains pulled back to reveal a breath-taking view of the city. The lights moved with a hypnotic speed, flashing… reaching out and retracting. Once she tore her eyes from that, she was faced with a decor that was so slick it left her unnerved. The furniture… all of it… was black, with inlaid glass, spotless… No streaks, no dust… It didn't seem plausible. The bed… which was itself larger than some apartments she'd lived in… was laden with pillows of so many shapes and sizes, it appeared that they were breeding. The comforter, like everything else in the room, was black, but the sheets, and half the pillows, were gold in color… silk. It was opulent. And impossible to miss.

She looked back at Nikolas, who was watching her with apprehension that was giving way to dread.

“Carly…” his voice was soft, prodding. She felt her body turn with the rest of her to face him, but she managed to stay grounded to the spot, not stepping towards him. This was a mistake, coming here… Allowing him to talk to her into it. She hadn't even argued. A part of her wanted to be here so badly, had wanted this moment more than any other one of the night. To be alone with him, to know he was with her, caring for her, and that he wasn't going to go leave. He wasn't going to turn away. And even if he decided everything was wrong and he'd made the biggest mistake of his life, it wouldn't be a simple thing to get rid of her.

But she shouldn't have given in. That she knew and couldn't avoid. Her brain wouldn't stop screaming at her for it. She had no right to this. It was too perfect, it was too rich, it was too… Much. She felt a bitter, cutting laugh push it's way out of her.

“Well. I guess this is as good a place to seal the deal as I could hope for,” she stepped back from him, tossing her hair and gave him a quick wink. “Very classy. I hope my body doesn't reject it.”

Nikolas shook his head slightly, an old feeling, one he had promised himself he was never going to allow himself to feel again, stirring in him.

“What are you doing?” his voice was so quiet he had no way of knowing if she had heard him. She was still studying the bed.

“But… It's an important part of the game plan, right? I mean… We can't have any loops holes,” her voice shook a little on the end of the remark. Nikolas closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

“Stop it.”

“Oh, look!” Carly turned away from him quickly, moving to the sideboard at the other end of the room. “Fruit.”

Nikolas, his head beginning to spin in a way he didn't like at all, nodded. “It comes with the name. Apparently.”

Carly pulled the bow off the top of the cellophane and nodded, glancing at the contents. “Exotic.” She looked around for another distraction and saw the ice bucket, complete with chilling champagne. She didn't allow herself to look at the name or vintage, turning back to him.

“Champagne…” she twisted her mouth. “You know… Some couples have songs, special places… We have an alcoholic beverage.”

Nikolas pushed himself off the wall, fighting against the overwhelming anger that was beginning to grip him. She wasn't supposed to do this. This was supposed to be over. He'd married her, for God's sake… what else was it going to take to get her to stop pushing him away?

Carly ran her fingers lightly over the edge sideboard, smiling in a way that suggested she was feeling no amusement or joy at all. “How do you do this?”

“Do what?” The words contorted in his mouth without permission, coming out with a much harsher edge than he'd intended. Carly continued, unfazed.

“Make a phone call and have stuff like this just appear?” She looked up at him, widening her eyes. “How do you swing that?”

Nikolas tensed his jaw. The cavalier manner Carly was displaying cut through him like a hot blade. She seemed determined to make this as unimportant and casual an encounter as possible.

“How long were you and Jason together?” The question came out before Nikolas could really consider it. He continued with unapologetic bitterness, nonetheless. “I mean… You lived with him. Doesn't Jason make things just 'happen'?”

Carly didn't flinch. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back, and crossed the room, stopping right in front of him.

“I know how Jason got things done,” she smiled at him in a way that was almost threatening, and slid her hand under his jacket, up his side, and around his back. She tipped her head up to meet his eyes. “Nope. You're clean.”

Nikolas felt himself tense at the comparison. He realized he'd invited it, but it stung all the same. Jason. He didn't want that name anywhere near this night. However, it seemed clear, that he was not going to get what he wanted here. She wasn't going to just let this night be. She wanted to complicate it as much as humanly possible, to keep him as far away from her as she could. He could see it in her eyes, in the challenge behind the smile. He felt her press against him and his arms closed around her waist of it's own volition as she raised herself up to meet his lips. Nikolas felt himself drawn into her for a moment. He couldn't be this close to her without sinking into a deep desire to touch her, kiss her for all he was worth. Instead he forced himself to turn away, causing Carly's lips to meet the strong line of his jaw instead of his lips. She opened her eyes in surprise, but was not to be put off. She kissed his face softly, bringing her hand up to his other cheek and turning him to face her again.

She caught her breath at the expression on his face… his jaw tight, eyes dark, boring into hers.

“I'm not Jason,” the words came out as an almost growl. Carly opened her mouth to respond, but only air escaped. Nikolas tightened his grip around her waist, dropping his lips to her neck and running them down to the base of her throat. Carly felt her heart pick up speed, pounding with alarming force against her rib cage as her head dropped back of it's own accord.

“I don't handle things like Jason does…” Nikolas' voice was tinged with anger, as he pulled the strap of her sundress down off her shoulder. He planted a soft kiss on her collarbone, a gesture that seemed to contradict his demeanor. “I don't threaten people like Jason does…” his other hand moved up her bare arm as he continued, his voice like gravel, “And I'm not going to treat you like Jason did.”

Carly swallowed hard, staring up at the ceiling.

“What do you know about how he treated me?” she asked, unable to force any anger or defensiveness into her words. Instead her voice was thin and high pitched. Nikolas lifted his head and looked down at her, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. Once again, she found her eyes had lost all ability to focus. His mouth came down on hers and he gave her a long, deep, sensual kiss. Carly felt any desire she had to keep him away, to stay in control, melt away in a moment. She could feel herself surrendering to him, willing suddenly to give up anything, just to see what kind of difference he was capable of making. All her concerns, everything she was holding so tightly, using to fight off what she really wanted this night, came crashing down around her as she felt Nikolas bend to lift her, in a sudden and unpredicted motion, up into his arms. She gasped, opening her eyes as his lips left hers. He had a look of ever so subtle triumph, having her in the posture she'd ducked out of at the door of the room. She felt her head spin, unprepared for the unabashed romance of the gesture, as he carried her to the bed and laid her down with great care.

Carly let herself sink into the bed, her hands slipping from Nikolas' neck, and onto the pillows, as she looked up at him. She was aware, somehow, that she had probably never allowed herself to look this overwhelmed, this open and vulnerable, in front of any man. Not at a time like this.

Nikolas sat down on the bed beside her, his eyes still trained on hers, not breaking eye contact for a moment, while his hand moved reverently down her body. Carly, feeling herself begin to tremble, closed her eyes, trying to block him out, to escape.

She felt Nikolas’ hand move back up her body and his knuckles gently graze her cheek. She opened her eyes, turning her head to look back at him, fighting back a wave of self-loathing. He was looking down at her, his expression blank, his eyes intense, full of injured determination. She didn't understand him, she realized. Profoundly, on some level, was unprepared for the sort of depth he felt things with. She didn't know anyone else who took everything so to heart. When she played games with Jason, he got annoyed, or angry. Nikolas got hurt.

Her hand moved quickly from where it had been lying, limp against the pillow, and circled his neck. She saw him swallow, his eyes finally breaking from hers. She rubbed her hand against the back of his neck slow, feeling her chest constrict. He didn't look back. Carly sat up, putting her hand to his cheek and again, and turning him to face her. His eyes, containing a glimmer of anger and coldness, previously, were now rich with unabashed hurt. Exactly what she hadn't wanted to see. She felt herself lift up from the bed, and brought her lips to his, and kissed him gently.

Remorse wasn't an emotion Carly traded in freely. She avoided it at all costs, coming up with excuses, reasonings and bargains to avoid it. As she kissed Nikolas she could feel herself contracting with him in her head… kiss me back, stop looking at me like that, forget about it… I will if you will.

The problem was, he wasn't.

She moved on the bed, not letting her lips leave his, and pressed herself closer to him. Her hands slid up into his hair, her eyes closed tightly, and she ran her tongue lightly across his closed lips. After a moment, Nikolas’ mouth finally relaxed against hers, and she pulled him down onto the bed with her, kissing him as deeply as he'd allow. She felt him begin to give in. His own hands started to wander over her body again, his mouth finally moving against hers. Carly felt her guilt begin to release as she pulled him down on top of her, letting her hands slide around his back, pulling his jacket down over his shoulders. He made no move to assist her, however, and after a moment, pulled away from her, lowering his head and breathing against her neck, but not making any other movement.

Carly turned her head towards him, pressing her lips against his neck. She could feel his pulse thundering through him. He wanted her. She knew that. So why the hell was he doing this?

“Nikolas,” she murmured his name, twisting herself beneath him. She brushed her lips back and forth across his jaw, trying to lure him back into the moment. “Nikolas, come on…”

Nikolas pushed himself up on his arms, suddenly, and looked down at her, the same hurt expression on his face that had been there when she had started kissing him. Carly felt her stomach plummet.

He descended on her quickly, kissing her hard. Carly responded in complete confusion, her eyes not even closing, faced with his, which were squeezed shut. She felt his hand start to slide up her leg, pulling her skirt up her thigh. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the physical sensations and blocking out the fact that she was profoundly disturbed by his behavior. Nikolas didn't act like this. He just didn't.

Sure enough, Nikolas broke the kiss as suddenly as he'd begun it, and moved away from her, rolling to the other side of the bed. Carly sat up quickly, gasping for air and looked over at him. He was lying on his back, staring hard at the wall, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breath. She struggled with her own breath.

Carly slid over to him, determinedly, looking down at him. He closed his eyes again, shutting her out. Carly bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out to him that he was, even by her standards, bucking for 'freakiest guy' she'd ever encountered. She reached down and took his hand in hers.

Carly brushed her fingertips over the back of his hand, then turned his hand over in hers. She undid the button at the cuff of his dress shirt, and blew lightly on the inside of his wrist. Nikolas shivered. She smiled to herself, feeling her confidence return, and unhooked he clasp on his watch, slipping it over his hand, before lowering her face to kiss his palm.

When she raised her head, he'd opened his eyes and was looking at her, his lips parted slightly. She knew the look. It was the same way he'd looked at her that first night when she'd been teasing him with the champagne bottle. Carly felt herself relax, and she stretched her body over him, dropping the watch blindly onto the night stand, and sunk into another kiss, while working on parting the buttons of his shirt.

This time Nikolas responded immediately, griping her with his hands, while exploring her kiss, hungrily, the kiss intensifying as she ran her hands up and down his chest. He moved his lips away from her lips, and trailed them down her neck.

“Nikolas,” she moaned approvingly.

His hands grabbed her arms and he rolled her onto her back in a sudden movement, leaving Carly, once again, gazing up at him, stunned and breathless.

“Nikolas…” her laugh was tinged with confusion. Nikolas shook his head hard. He had to get this out, and he had to get it out now.

“I promised…” he stopped, gazing down at her, at the apprehension on her face. He realized how hard he was still holding her, and took a deep breath, relaxing his grip. He looked away, staring at a spot across the room, as he struggled to string his thoughts together. “We made promises to each other tonight.”

Carly nodded, mute. God, what was this about? “I… I promised to take care of you.” He looked back at her, meeting her eyes. “And I'm going to keep those promises. I don't even care if you can't keep yours, Carly, just…” he stopped, struggling visibly for a moment. “Keep one.”

Carly reached up and grabbed the headboard, using it to slide herself out from under him and sit up. She stared at him, still without words or understanding.

“Keep one?” she repeated, the words making no more sense in her mouth as they did in his.

Nikolas nodded. “Make me one promise and never break it, that is all I ask.” Desperation began to creep into his voice. “I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure no one EVER hurts you again. Not Tony Jones, not the Quartermaines… no one. Just promise me this.”

Carly felt her mouth go dry. “What?” she managed to push out.

Nikolas looked away a moment, as if he was battling some sort of inner turmoil against voicing the promise he seemed to need her to make so badly. When he looked back at her, there were unmistakable tears gathering in his eyes.

“Don't use me.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, blinking back the tears that were threatening, as if this was only a minor request. He didn't succeed in keeping the tremor out of his voice. “Ever.” He slid a hand behind her neck, holding her head so that she couldn't look away from her. Carly felt herself go cold, as if he was staring right into the center of her. “I'll give you anything, whatever you want… but you HAVE to promise that we are in this together. Don't push me away, don't hold me at arms length, and don't try to manipulate me.”

Carly couldn't even bring herself to blink. “What happened to you?” she breathed, in horror.

Nikolas dropped his hand, looking away. “Just tell me…” He let his voice trail off, unable to make himself repeat it again. His head was beginning to hurt, combating memories he was refusing to let in. He didn't want to think about them. All he wanted was her, to look at her and know she was safe, that she wasn't going to betray him, or make him think she felt one way while plotting behind his back. Every second she didn't let him in he could feel the pounding in his head get louder. He wanted to shake her, was using every ounce of self- control he had not to. He closed his eyes. “God, do you even want to be here?”

Carly, still in a state of shock, felt something crack in her at his words. She moved forward, towards him, and immediately circled her arms around him,

“I want to be here,” she whispered to him, feverishly as she began to lay moist kisses down his neck and onto his chest. “I don't… I want to be with you.”

Nikolas struggled against the overwhelming urge to just surrender to this, to let that be enough, and let the rest of the night take its course. He found himself helping Carly release him from his shirt and jacket. This was so easy. Why the hell was he making it so hard?

An image, clear as day, and completely unbidden, flashed before his eyes. A woman, turning, lowering her eyes, and giving him that smile… He shuttered and pushed Carly away, looking down at her.

“Tell me why you're acting like this.”

Carly shook her head, tears beginning to threaten. She was fighting crippling guilt on two fronts now, and she had no other way to show him how sorry she was. She leaned back against him, caressing her shoulders with her hands.

“Don't.”

Nikolas closed his eyes. “Carly… I have to,” he slid his hands to grip her shoulders and pushed her back so that he could look at her. “I have to know.”

Carly squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face. God, how the hell had she gotten into this? She didn't want to talk about it.

“I promise, ok?” her voice shook. “I promise, I promise, I promise.” she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I'm not going to use you. You want this to be a partnership… then it is.”

Nikolas swallowed hard. “Then tell me what all of that stuff was about.”

Carly leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands and smiling at him sadly. “Later.” Nikolas felt his heart drop into his stomach. He wondered mildly if she was ever going to be able to understand what it did to him, when she smiled at him in a way she could believe.

She leaned over and brushed her lips against his lightly. “Later… I promise. I just want…” she stopped talking as she felt Nikolas’ body relax, relenting. He moved slowly towards her and they sank together back into the pillows on the bed.

“What do you want?” his lips moved against hers, the words coming out in a thick whisper. Carly felt herself shiver beneath him, feeling a current run through her.

“You,” she spoke, arching closer to him. “Just you.”

Nikolas propped himself up on one elbow, to look down at her. He brushed her hair out of her face, carefully, just staring at her, taking her in. “I promise not to hurt you,” he said finally, stating the words like they were another vow, an unspoken part of the words the minister had recited with such a complete lack of enthusiasm. “Believe that.”

Carly reached up and trailed her fingers down his upper arm. She had no response to that. It was like being asked to believe that pigs could fly, or that Elvis was still alive. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

Nikolas leaned down slowly and gave her a long and purposeful kiss, his hand lightly stroking her cheek. It seemed to announce that they were starting this moment over again. That what had come before didn't matter now. She closed her hand around his arm.

His lips moved from her lips, down her body, and she felt the rest of the room begin to fade away, an ache in her begin to diminish, as he made love to her. There was something different about him tonight, something being held back, measured out. It was in his touch, in a way it hadn't been before. Despite his bizarre behavior, despite his running hot and cold, she could feel something different about the way he was with her tonight. It was like he was marking something. His touch was worshipful, and full of respect. Carly wasn't sure anyone had ever touched her like this before. She opened her eyes, staring up at the distant ceiling as Nikolas began to slide her dress off of her.

“Nikolas?”

Nikolas was intent on laying soft kisses along her shoulder. “Mmmm?”

Carly took a deep breath, letting her arms slip under his, to slide around his back.

“I do believe you.”