Inferno (A Harmony Love Story)

by Angela Graham

  “But you wouldn’t have given me the time of day, and I was desperate to get to know you. I know how messed up it was, but you really were a good friend to me, always so funny and up for anything. It was refreshing, and I was afraid of losing you, so I kept lying.”

  The man was completely serious, his expression unlike anything I’d seen from him before—similar to that of a child returning a cookie they’d stolen. It was something I connected to instantly: pure shame.

  “Look…” I began, struggling to hold strong.

  “No,” he interrupted, pleading. “I understand why you’re angry at me, and I don’t blame you. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or even the return of your friendship. I just wanted to end this the right way and apologize.”

  I was stunned, to say the least. The last thing I’d expected from Rafe was kindness. It was a side of him I missed. He’d always been the nice guy, handing out twenties to the homeless we’d pass on the streets and complimenting everyone in the room. He had charming down to an art. It was why I’d enjoyed his company so much.

  Resolved to make peace, I dropped my keys back on the table, released a heavy sigh, and strode over to the couch. Once there, I plopped down, kicking off my sneakers.

  “So, are you and your wife working on things?” I asked, letting him off the hook.

  He was as fucked up as I was, I convinced myself. I felt sorry for the guy. The longer I stared, the more I took in his appearance. Gone was the flawlessly pressed suit, tiny wrinkles revealing themselves more and more with every move he made. His tie was missing, and the usual luster of his finest black shoes was now as dull as the hopeless look in his dark eyes.

  “She filed for divorce.”

  Good for her. “Can you blame her?”

  “No,” he grumbled. “But I wasn’t lying about her boss before. He’s already moved into my home, my bed.” The barb in his voice wasn’t missed. “My kids will be calling him Daddy any moment now, I’m sure.”

  I tucked one leg under me and twisted my body so my back rested against the arm of the couch. “Kids are smarter than we give them credit for. And they need a father, so as long as you’re there for them regularly, it won’t matter who’s sleeping in their mother’s bed. You’re their daddy.”

  “Hopefully,” he replied, rubbing his hand across his stubbled chin. I’d never seen him anything but clean shaven. It was a new look for him, and one I could tell he wasn’t used to. “Where’s your boyfriend tonight?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Right. That’s good.” A low chuckle rumbled deep in the back of his throat as he strode my way and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I hope you know that I understand why Caleb was angry with me that night, surprising you and all—it was out of line. But you need to understand Caleb Townsend is not the guy for you.”

  My eyes slashed in his direction. “Not your business.”

  He held his hands up in defense. “Relax,” he said with a hard laugh. “I know it’s not. I just…you’re a good kid. I’d hate to see him drag you into his shitstorm.”

  This wasn’t a conversation we were going to have, which was why I stood. “Right, well, I’m not a kid, so I can handle any shit Caleb brings.”

  Slowly, he inclined his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course.”

  “I appreciate you stopping by to apologize,” I told him sincerely. “Not so much the part where you broke in and made yourself at home, but I’ll let that slide this time. Have a good life, Rafe. I mean that, really.”

  He stood as well. “Thank you, and I know you do.”

  I walked him to my front door, which was still propped open. “Before I go,” he said, turning suddenly, “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Of course you do.” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest again. “And here I thought that maybe, just maybe, you really were here to apologize.”

  “I mean well, Hilary, I do. But I think you’ll want to hear this.”

  Unbelievable. “Always working an angle. Why should I be surprised?”

  “Two minutes and if you’re not interested, okay, done,” he said. “Please.”

  The magic word. He’d buttered me up and was ready for the play, so I might as well hear him out because Rafe was as persistent as they came. At least if I gave him an honest, “No, thank you,” he could move on to someone else.

  “Two minutes,” I said, then stared down, tapping my wrist. “And…go.” I pointed my finger at him and off he went, explaining quickly.

  “Remember Max, the CEO from the Fortune 500 company who’s always chatting you up about Italy? The one at the last conference who asked you to show his date around?”

  I nodded. He was hard to forget—the man was pushing sixty, with George Clooney looks and a body to match. He was charming and kind but according to rumors was into some hardcore kinks, and he never brought the same date twice.

  “Well, his company is on the verge of a huge merger, and I’m going down to Mexico in a couple weeks to get all the details worked out and find out if he can bring me in on it. He’s game, but he had one request: He was looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Why?” I blurted out. “I hardly know the guy.”

  Rafe seemed to agree. “I know. I told him we’d parted ways and not on the best of terms, but he said he was dating a new girl he really liked and you’d be the perfect woman to show her the ropes—you know, how to handle a room full of old, powerful men and make them feel like kings.”

  “Great,” I grumbled, dropping my head. “Not really looking to add that to my résumé.”

  Rafe lifted my chin, then released it instantly after the scathing glare I shot his way. “Hilary, I have no right to ask you for anything. But we had a lot of fun together for a long time. If you can help me out here, I’ll make it worth your effort.”

  At that, I reared back. “I don’t want your money! I’m done being that girl!”

  “Hil, this isn’t about us or sex. I’m not asking you to sleep with me or even pretend that you want to. All I’m asking is that you fly to Mexico with me on a Friday, spend Saturday with this girl, attend one banquet that night, and then come back Sunday morning. It’s a job—one that…”

  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a stack of cash bundled together with a bank strap. “…you’ll make some real money at.”

  He placed the bundle in my hands. It was $10,000 in cash, all hundreds. I couldn’t help myself, flipping through the bills, imagining how I could so effortlessly rebuild my life with it.

  I eventually shook my head, completely unnerved at how easily I could be persuaded, and tossed the money at his chest.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said. “Nothing worth having comes that easy.”

  He placed the cash on my kitchen counter, daring me to consider. “Hilary, you have my word, you’ll never hear from me again after that weekend.”

  “Why would you pay me that kind of money for a weekend giving a girl tips on men? You’re insane!”

  “First, it’s not my money, it’s Max’s. He insisted he make it worth your time. Plus, no woman has ever been as pleasant and charismatic around the man as you and those are his words, not mine. You were never slutty or too flirty, which is exactly how he wants his new lady to act.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s still insane.”

  “Maybe, but who cares? No one has to know. You’ll be there and back before anyone even notices you left. It will be our secret.”

  “I can’t do that again.” I closed my eyes. “I’m tired of hiding what I’m doing or where I’m going. I can’t.”

  I heard Rafe step closer and opened my eyes to find his pleading and desperate. “You’re not doing anything wrong by accepting the cash, or even wanting to accept it,” he said. “It’s a job, Hilary. He’s wealthy, and he needs your assistance and respects you. And yes, I benefit here too, but you won’t be accepting payment from me. I’m just the middleman.”

  �
��Or the pimp?” I said, disgusted at myself for wanting to say yes. A weekend trip to Mexico, especially at the start of fall semester, would’ve been an immediate yes a few weeks ago, but not anymore. I was a teacher now, with responsibilities. Plus, there was no way Caleb would be okay with it—not that I needed his permission. I did, however, want his respect.

  Rafe shook his head slowly, growing frustrated. “I told you, no sex, no kissing, nothing like that! And if you don’t show this girl how to keep herself safe around a bunch of horny old perverts, you’re leaving her to the wolves, and I know you don’t want that. You’re too big on girl power to leave one of your own hanging. The girl’s barely twenty-two years old.”

  I winced. She was my age. But the fact that she was apparently into much-older men wasn’t my business, especially since Rafe was well over forty, so who was I to judge?

  “Maybe I’ll just warn her to get out—to leave Max.” I pressed a hand to my hip and raised a challenging brow.

  “Maybe you will. Or maybe you’ll see how much he adores the girl, and because deep down you’re the hopeless romantic I know you are, you’ll want to help them both.”

  I watched him walk through the doorway, out into the hall. “We leave the second weekend of September and when you get there, Max has another ten grand waiting.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars?” I asked breathlessly.

  Rafe nodded. “You could have the fresh start you want and take care of your father. Show her the ropes, and you’ll be done with everyone in that life. One weekend, Hilary. Give it some thought, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime offer.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Emotional fatigue took hold shortly after Rafe left. I fell asleep on the couch, staring hopelessly at the pile of cash but reminding myself I wasn’t so easily bought. Not anymore. I never touched it, leaving it sitting on the counter directly in my line of sight. I didn’t even bother to remove my makeup or change my clothes. My heavy limbs paralyzed me and my mind was a chaotic storm, battling between good and evil—or more so, want versus need.

  If I accepted the money and made an excuse for going out of town that weekend, I could come back and live comfortably, at least for a while. I wouldn’t need to depend on anyone. There would be no big purchases or extravagant lifestyle until I’d burned through it. This time, I’d be smart—prepared. After I moved, I’d buy my dad the best recliner they made, then put the rest in my savings and use it sparingly, only as needed.

  Despite the relief $20,000 would bring, the thought was far from pleasant. I’d be left with more than an upgraded bank account—hell, I wouldn’t even be able to deposit that much cash. I’d be looking at having a safe under my bed or buried in a closet, but there are worse problems to have. The real issue was the undeniable swelling mix of shame and guilt that would eat away at me slowly. I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so damn weak. Was I just like my mother?

  I could easily lie to myself and say the plan was to return it to Rafe in the morning, which sounded good…if I could only squash the urge to keep it by taking him up on the offer and never telling a soul. But I couldn’t accept it, and I knew that. I would return it. Until then, though, I’d be left with a nagging awareness, filling my thoughts with what all I could do with that kind of money.

  I closed my tear-laden eyes, wiping my nose and curling myself tightly into a ball, pleading with my mind to disconnect. Not five minutes later, a loud pounding on my front door pulled me from my uncomfortable dream state and tiny couch. My body jerked up and over onto the floor, and I knocked my elbow on the coffee table.

  “Ouch.” I winced, rubbing the tender spot as I jumped up and rushed to open the door.

  Stunned, I found Caleb standing on the other side, his hair messy and expression distraught.

  “Caleb!” I gasped. “What’s wrong?”

  He shoved past me, shaking his head as I kicked the door shut. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Clue the fuck in!”

  “What?” was the only response that fell from my parted lips. I dropped my cradled arm, my elbow now the least of my problems.

  When he reached the living room and swung around, I reared back at the scathing glare directed at me.

  “First,” he said in a menacingly low tone, a side of him I’d only glimpsed in the Haven parking lot, “what the fuck did you say to Felicia?”

  “What?” I huffed, breathless. “Felicia?”

  He stalked closer, for the first time in my life frightening me. My body fled backward. “What did you say to her, Hilary?”

  “I, uh…I don’t…I don’t know.” Rational words lodged somewhere between my sputtering brain and parched throat. Nothing but broken fragments escaped past my gaping mouth as I grappled for some sort of understanding. “Why? What…what happened?”

  Suddenly he was in my space, his hot breath mingling with mine. It was something I would’ve begged for hours earlier but was now rebuffing.

  “Did you tell her to run my name, huh? Do a little diggin’ for ya?”

  I shook my head vehemently. “No, I didn't…I-I didn’t say anything to her.” With a trembling bottom lip, I took a step backward, clearing my thoughts as well as my throat. “I never asked her to do anything. And as far as I know, she had no reason to look into your past.” Finally, I was able to produce a full, coherent sentence.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He drew back, turning on his heel and reentering the living room with a deep, humorless laugh, pointing an accusing finger my way. “See, I know enough about you, Hilary, to question that. You like to play games, toy with people. And finding out about your schoolgirl crush, having the sheriff look into him—that sounds exactly like you.”

  His words were harsh and drawn out, emphasizing his cruel points. My knees wobbled, adrenaline the only thing holding me upright as I fought the sting of beckoning tears.

  “No, that isn’t me. I wouldn’t.” I moved forward and reached out for him, but he pulled away. “Where is this coming from, Caleb? Please, what happened tonight?”

  He stood there, his body coiled tightly and features hard, with his usual bright green eyes now shrouded in darkness.

  “You sure about that?” he shot back, and I snapped.

  “Positive!” I shouted. “Talk to me, damn it!”

  “Why don’t you talk to me, Hilary?”

  “What!?” How much more could I take? Did he know about Rafe? The offer? Shit, he probably saw the money. I skirted around the wall and stood in front of the counter, blocking his view of it.

  “All you had to do was be patient, and now I have the entire Harmony Sheriff’s Department up my ass thanks to you.”

  “I didn’t ask Felicia to look into you!” I argued.

  “I see.”

  “You damn well better, because you don’t get to come into my home and treat me like shit over something I didn’t do. You need to tell me what the hell happened tonight, because I don’t appreciate being called a liar.”

  “That's what you do though, isn't it?” he said so cruelly I stumbled back. “You lie. You hide from your best friend, from your father. And let’s not forget how you like to fuck old guys for a few bucks.”

  I stumbled back, tears breaking through, unable to look him in the eye. “That’s what you think of me?” I asked in a shameful whisper. “You think…you think I’m…I’m a lying whore.”

  Caleb released a beastly roar, and then I heard something crash against the wall. I didn’t bother to look. Nothing mattered. He could break it all.

  Pull it together, I chanted internally, needing to find enough strength to get through the next few minutes.

  “You know what, Caleb? I think if you have something to hide in police records, you only have yourself to blame. Whatever it is, that’s on you. I’m not perfect—I’m far from it, and can admit that—but I don’t go around accusing and intentionally hurting people. And that’s what you’re doing here. So you need to leave. Now.”

  With my head held high, I walked
calmly to the door and opened it widely. I heard him grunt as my eyes remained cast on the hallway.

  “You want me to leave?” He sounded surprised.

  “Yes, I do. Now.” It took all my strength to not look back at him—to beg and plead for him to open up for once and explain himself.

  Caleb strode past me, into the hall. “Really? Little miss can't get enough of me all of a sudden is kicking me out of her fucking apartment—an apartment that’s not even hers, paid for by her sugar daddy.”

  “What is wrong with you!?” I cried, struggling for control. “I don’t deserve any of this!”

  “Why don't you call your so-called best friend—the girl you're so eager to look out for, the one you were hoping would sail off into the sunset with a man you don't even know!?”

  “Logan? Did he do something tonight? Is she okay?”

  “Do you really care?” he countered instantly.

  On that, a hard dose of rage rumbled up and over any pity or sadness I was feeling. “Yeah, I do! You said she’d be good for him. So, what, you’re saying Logan's a bad guy now?”

  “All I’m saying is that you don’t know shit about him or me. All you little girls care about is how you feel and who looks good.” He leaned in close. “Yeah, Honey Pie, I can make you come more in one night than any guy before me, but that means fucking zero in the real world.”

  I just stood there, my mouth agape. Considering the pathetic sensation spreading toward my center, I could’ve hate-fucked him if I wasn’t desperately worried about Cassandra. Plus, I’d want to kill him, and myself, in the morning for being so damn predictable and weak.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I ordered.

  “Consider me gone. And you need to call Cassie, so you can go and clean up your mess. I got enough of my own.”

  “Wait, just tell me what Logan did,” I pleaded to his back as he strolled down the hall.

  Caleb stopped suddenly but didn’t turn around. “Felicia's up my ass, Logan wants to fucking kill me, and your best friend might need stitches all because you enjoy acting like a little fucking girl and wanted to play matchmaker.”