Inferno (A Harmony Love Story)

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Inferno (A Harmony Love Story) Page 9

by Angela Graham


  “Logan?” I asked, my brows furrowed.

  But Cassandra had finally greeted the guy and they were talking amongst themselves, so I adjusted to face Caleb when he didn’t answer.

  I didn’t need further explanation, catching whom he was watching more intently then necessary: Rafe.

  “Yeah, I should go see—”

  “I’ll go see, in a minute,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

  Before I could argue, Cassandra’s voice had risen. “Thanks, but I can buy my own drinks.” She took her glass from the bartender and turned on her heel, walking toward some old friends without another word.

  Damn, maybe she’s not intimidated by Logan. And whatever she’d been doing was working just as much on him, judging by the grin on his face as he watched her go.

  “I don’t think she likes you,” Caleb said with a chuckle.

  Logan mentioned something about music then stood, disappearing into the crowd.

  “I should really go see what he wants,” I said, attempting to maneuver out of Caleb’s hold. “Get things started. I’ll be back if you need help.”

  “Gonna need your help now,” he told me, lifting the small bell I’d bought for the event.

  I gave it a ring, unsure what else to say as we stepped around the bar.

  “All right, let’s get this thing started, shall we?” Caleb announced. “Ladies, you’ll each have a table to yourself. The men will be the only ones moving around tonight…at least, while you’re still in my bar. They’ll have five minutes at each table to convince you they’re worth your time. Guys, if you want another five minutes, just stay put till the next bell chimes or the woman kicks your ass out of the seat.”

  As Caleb continued, I watched Rafe walking toward the tables. Was he really going to play along tonight? Maybe he’d find a new girl to take my place. I cringed and snagged a beer from a passing waiter’s tray.

  “Thanks,” I mouthed. Luckily, I knew the guy well enough that he didn’t seem to mind grabbing another beer from behind the bar to replace it.

  Caleb gave me a sidelong glance, but only squeezed his arm more tightly around my waist, pulling me further into his side and refocusing my attention.

  “Now let’s have some fun, and remember: No hassling any of these fine ladies here tonight, gentlemen,” Caleb finished, raising his glass while I rang the bell once more to get things started. The room filled instantly with soft laughter and shuffling feet as the women found their tables.

  Rafe had a lot of balls showing up there, in a place where people gossiped more than they ate. The man needed his ego checked, and soon. He sat with a shy girl I knew from high school, and had it not been for Caleb guiding me to a stool to sit, I’d have been over there saving the poor girl.

  Caleb sat on the stool next to mine, facing me, his legs holding mine hostage. If I slipped forward half an inch, I was certain my knee would connect with the bulging outline in his trousers.

  He placed his hands on my bare knees, leaned into my hair, and whispered, “I’m gonna do you a favor.”

  I laughed awkwardly, almost too afraid to ask. “Which is?”

  He pulled back, smiling. “Instead of throwing that ex-boyfriend of yours out of here tonight and handling him properly, I’m gonna try a nicer method and show him that you’re no longer interested.”

  I swallowed, my attention darting to the bartender on the other side of the counter.

  “Unless you still are?” he asked, quirking a brow as warm fingers squeezed my knee.

  “No, um, not at all,” I replied, in what I thought was a convincing tone. How could I begin to explain just how much I meant that?

  “Really?” Caleb pressed.

  “Yeah, really. And he wasn’t my boyfriend—not even close. Just, uh…a friend.”

  I took a massive gulp of my beer and felt my nerves spike, adrenaline racing as Caleb took my chin in his fingers and steered my face closer.

  This was it, finally: The moment I’d dreamed of for the last decade.

  Chapter Nine

  I closed my eyes, ready but not entirely eager. Something wasn’t right. The moment I felt his minty breath caress my mouth was the second I should’ve driven my lips down onto his. But instead, I shook my head free.

  If Caleb was surprised, he hid it well. He didn’t appear fazed at all, simply lifting his glass for another drink.

  And when I offered a small, ridiculous smile, further propelling my need to bang my head on the counter for ruining a possibly magical moment that I’d waited years to experience again, he just laughed.

  As much as I wanted him, I wanted something special—I wanted perfection. Whether that existed didn’t matter in the moment. I couldn’t stand our first real kiss being staged for Rafe. Even buzzed, I wasn’t just taking what I could get anymore.

  “So.” He dipped his head down to find my eyes, forcing me to look at him. “He not the jealous type?”

  I lifted my head and shifted in my seat, completely uncomfortable. “Something like that.” I grabbed my beer. “Thanks though.”

  Jealous type? Rafe was the very definition. I’d seen him knock a guy out for tipping me $100 and offering me his number during a poker game I’d waitressed at. And glancing at him now, I could see the blaze building in his glare from twenty feet away.

  Caleb’s lip quirked up into a hidden smile as he rose slowly to his feet, releasing me from his legs. “Enough said,” he stated, giving me the feeling he did all too well.

  Caleb worked behind the bar, mixing drinks and handing me a new concoction shortly after I finished the previous one. We didn’t speak again but he also didn’t change his demeanor toward me; it was still light and friendly but completely unfocused, distracted by the bevy of beauties lingering around the end of the bar. At that point, I was a few drinks in and feeling it.

  Was he trying to get me drunk? Doesn’t matter, does it?

  I spent the first round watching Cassandra’s nervous expression as she did her best to chat with the young guy at her table. She held her smile and appeared welcoming the entire time, playing along and occasionally making googly eyes between me and Caleb. I’m sure she was thinking things were progressing a lot faster between us than they actually were.

  “Bell,” Caleb said.

  “Hmmm?” I asked, gazing over my drink.

  “Time’s about up. Get ready to ring the bell.”

  I did so, unsure what else to say to him. We sat there a moment, him staring at me, me staring at anything and everything else (except Rafe).

  Luckily, I was able to distract myself with the wordless wonderment happening between Cassandra and Logan. They had it bad; every time he looked at her, I saw something new, from intrigue and lust to small signs of adoration. He was hooked, and despite her attitude earlier tonight, she had the biggest heart and was sweeter than any girl he’d ever meet. Her walls, however—the tall cinderblock ones—were guarded by the fiercest bitch at times.

  I smiled to myself as I took a long drink, hoping Logan would be the one to knock it all down and bring my best friend back out.

  “—little bitch, too!” was all I heard and all I needed to hear from some asshole at Cassandra’s table before I was up.

  Cassandra leaned into the table, squaring off against him, her words drowned in the music and chatter.

  Abruptly, he jumped to his feet, his chair crashing back on the floor behind him. “You women are all the same!”

  Just as I began to march over, Caleb was already there. “Hey, buddy,” he said smoothly, his hands up. “I think you need some fresh air.”

  I recognized the guy as Joe, a usual at a few of the underground poker games. He appeared unaffected, ignoring Caleb and even shoulder-checking him as he stomped toward the door. Caleb let him go, looking down at Cassandra. He must’ve asked her something because she nodded her head in response before speaking.

  Caleb chuckled then turned around to leave her, walking back up to the bar where Jill w
as loading a tray of drinks.

  “You okay?” I mouthed to Cassandra, feeling the depth of my intoxication as the adrenaline subsided. There would be no more drinks for me tonight.

  She shrugged, offering a pacifying smile before looking down at the table, obviously needing to collect herself. A few moments later, Jill walked over to Cassandra and handed her a much-needed margarita.

  I laughed to myself. One or two of those and she’d be lit for the night.

  “Come on, let’s not pretend it’s the first time you guys have seen a drunk guy!” Caleb called out to calm the crowd, chuckling to himself despite the severe expression he held.

  The room exploded in chitchat and laughter, falling back into the motions of the event as Caleb made a pitstop at Logan’s table.

  I rang the bell, and as I sat back down, I noticed Caleb slip out the door where the mouthy jerk had exited moments earlier. What was he going to do?

  I had to find out—obviously, since I was already on my feet—but I was unable to make my way to the door with Cassandra looking at me so often. If she saw me go out, she’d worry and soon follow. I smiled, lifted my brow in approval at the guy now in front of her, then beelined it into the back on wobbly drunken legs.

  I walked through the kitchen and out the back door, leaving it propped open with the same bucket Caleb had used earlier in the week. The sun had recently set; yellows and blues still danced through the sky, awaiting the darkness. The flood lights focused solely on the parking lot, where I could hear Caleb speaking in a tone so intimidating it made me shiver.

  “I said fuck off!” Joe spat just as I spotted them both, standing between two parked cars.

  Caleb stood no less than five feet away from the man. “I didn’t kick your sorry, drunk ass out last weekend, and that was mistake.”

  Joe swayed backward as Caleb stepped into him, grabbing him by the collar. “Should’ve dealt with you then, but I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Fuck—” Joe started, attempting to jerk away just as the first punch landed on his jaw.

  My hand flew to my face, covering my mouth. I watched, wide-eyed, as Caleb barreled down punch after punch until the guy slumped to the ground, hidden from sight.

  Caleb turned, pulled out his phone, and made a call. I watched Joe attempt to stand slowly after Caleb ordered him to do so, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

  “Didn’t know you liked the bad boys.”

  I heard a vicious laugh at my back and froze.

  “You really want a guy with that amount of aggression in him?”

  I rolled my eyes, more than ready to get it over with. “What do you want, Rafe?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as I turned to face him.

  He stood just outside the back door with a cigarette between his lips, lighter sparking in his hands. He’d always been handsome to me, even then, as angry as I was, but not like Caleb. Rafe was more of a nine-to-fiver: all business during the day with male cravings in the evening.

  “Got the car picked up.”

  Not what he drove out there to tell me. “And?”

  “And you blocked my number.” He lit the tip and took a deep puff.

  “Yeah. And?” I held my head high, not letting even a hint of emotion break through.

  “Needed to get ahold of you to see how you wanted to take care of the damage to it.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding! I left that car in—”

  He laughed hard, walking toward me in long strides. “Of course I am. The car’s pristine, like you.”

  The back of his hand stroked my cheek, scorching the skin. I lurched backward, slapping his hand away in the process. “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever fucking touch me again!”

  Rafe just stared at me while taking a long, slow drag from his smoke.

  “I thought I made myself clear,” I explained. “I’m moving on. I just want to forget about the past and my dumbass mistakes, which include you. So please forget you ever knew me.”

  Rafe stared a moment longer then threw down his cigarette, anger flashing in his eyes. “What the hell is your problem, exactly, huh?” he demanded, causing me to wobble backward even farther.

  “I treated you good, Hilary—like a fucking princess. Took you to places you’d never have seen without me, bought you shit you could never afford, and even put your sweet ass up in the best apartment this shithole has to offer. You think I deserve you pissing on me now?”

  “You wife is the one who doesn’t deserve to be pissed on!”

  He laughed. “My wife has been fucking her boss for the last three years. I’m not even sure if all of ‘my’ kids,” he air quoted, “are actually mine. So stop worrying about shit you don’t understand. I didn’t pay you to think or have a goddamned moral code. I paid you—”

  “You didn’t pay me for anything you…” My emotional dam broke, tears pouring out in buckets. “…you asshole.”

  Before I could say another word, Rafe was being swung around and slammed into the brick wall with the same fist from earlier now positioned in front of his face.

  “You like making girls cry, motherfucker!?” Caleb barked. I gasped, not wanting or needing his help.

  Rafe’s stunned expression morphed into something comical. “Harmony—really, Caleb?” he said, and my stomach dropped. Did they know each other? “Grow bored of all that city pussy and thought you’d come chase mine?”

  Rafe shoved Caleb, who stood at least four inches taller with a frame that dwarfed Rafe’s. Caleb didn’t budge or speak. He just stared at Rafe, waiting for something I wasn’t sure of.

  “You fuck with me and I’ll make sure my guys hear about it. Saint as well,” Rafe said, grinning.

  Caleb tightened his grip on Rafe’s neck, causing him to choke and gurgle.

  “Saint doesn’t give a shit about you or who you fuck,” he snarled. “He does give a whole lot of shit about respect, though, and you coming into my bar and messing with one of my customers…that will not be tolerated.”

  The fist I waited for him to throw never came. Instead, he slammed Rafe’s head back so hard against the bricks it made a piercing thud, followed by another as Rafe dropped to his knees.

  I shrieked, stumbling back at the sight of blood seeping from his scalp. He swayed on his knees a few seconds before falling onto his side, either dead or unconscious. I prayed for the latter, feeling suddenly sober, unsure what the hell had just happened. Who was Saint? How did Caleb know Rafe, and why hadn’t Caleb mentioned that earlier?

  Suddenly, it all crashed down. Why was I always so naive? I didn’t know anything about Caleb. And as I lifted my gaze from a bloody Rafe to meet the former’s icy stare, my fight or flight took over. I was terrified of Caleb in that moment.

  “I’ll call an ambulance,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “Hilary.” Caleb’s voice was warm and soft, and it took all I had not to get lost in it.

  “He needs a doctor,” I urged. “I won’t tell anyone what happened…self-defense, or whatever you want to say—”

  “Hilary—”

  “You probably thought he was gonna hurt me, right?” I was rambling. “So, sure, you knocked him out. Cool. Let’s just get him fixed up, okay?”

  As I attempted to slip past Caleb and retreat inside for my phone (and safety, along with another stiff drink), he grabbed my hand gently and hauled me in front of him. He lifted my chin with his finger, just as he had earlier, but the look in his eyes held much more tenderness.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Caleb whispered.

  “This?” I murmured.

  Our eyes searched each other’s, sudden dampness blurring my vision. I didn’t want to cry and begged myself to hold it in, but the moment I felt the sting of the first tear falling, Caleb’s thumb was there to wipe it away.

  “He’s not dead, Hilary,” he assured me, releasing my chin to take my face in both his hands. “I don’t go around killing people.”

  I nodded.

&
nbsp; “Rafe is an old associate. He’s a piece of shit with a lot of connections that make him useful at times.”

  I nodded again, breathless.

  “He’ll leave you alone now. I’ll make sure of it.”

  After a third dumb nod from me, Caleb sighed and stepped back. “You aren’t the only girl he’s toyed with. He has a reputation for using young girls to…” He stopped himself, tilting his head slightly to the side, nostrils flaring.

  He knew exactly what I was to Rafe, and all the alcohol in my system wouldn’t be able to erase the memory of his expression. It was almost pathetic. I was nothing more than a whore, and he knew it. I swallowed down my rising vomit.

  “To what?” I asked despite not wanting to hear the answer.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Grab your bag inside and I’ll have someone drive you home.”

  I blocked him from walking away. “Answer me. To what?”

  Caleb closed his eyes on a heavy sigh, then spoke the truth I already knew but needed to hear someone else say out loud.

  “Rafe likes to have young girls around to show off. But he’s not into hiring escorts. Instead, he prides himself on creating them.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nothing ever prepares you for a hangover as a teenager, but by the time you’ve hit legal drinking age, you pretty much know your limit and have a good expectation for the following morning.

  Then there are the ones you experience after watching your dream guy nearly kill two people—one of whom you’d been acting out your own twisted Pretty Woman fantasy with. That type of morning needed a classification all its own. I’d say it was a complete mindfuck, but I wasn’t interested in any kind of fucks at the moment. I hid under my blanket, wanting—no, needing—it all to be a horrible nightmare.

  The worst part was that I was so messed up that I still found the silver lining: Caleb had looked out for me. Who the hell was I? Sure as hell not Harley Quinn in search of a Joker. I wanted a respected man, but not one who earned said respect through violence.

  And who was the grown-up Caleb Townsend? That was the real question, and one I asked myself all morning.

 

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