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I open the door to see my landlord, his large frame blocking the whole door.
“What do you want, Arthur?”
Arthur is the son of the original man I signed my lease with. His father was a decent sort. His son, however, doesn’t take after him in that regard.
He sneers down at me, his voice scratchy, and grating on the ears. “You movin’?”
I keep one hand on the door, ready to slam it in his face, if necessary. “What’s it to you?” I bare my teeth at him, not willing to budge an inch. I can smell the beer on him as he breathes on me,
His beady eyes look all excited as he says, “Heard you were whoring yourself out to some rich boy.”
I stiffen at the insult, but I know better than to be baited by the likes of him. “You heard wrong, dick face.” I don’t care that my cultured boss might hear me. He knew what he was hiring.
Arthur’s eyes narrow at me. “You better watch that mouth of yours, bitch.” His sneer is repulsive. “Or I can put it to good use. Who’s the rich boy?”
“None of your fucking business. What do you want?” I growl at him.
“When is he coming back?” My landlord persists.
“Why?” I ask sweetly. “Do you want to whore yourself out to him? I doubt you’re his type.”
I see the fist coming and belatedly realize that I won’t be able to dodge it. Cursing myself for not controlling my tongue, I mentally prepare myself for the familiar hot white pain. But before it can make contact with my face, a forearm appears, blocking it. Then, everything slows down, as I turn to see my unlikely rescuer.
Caleb’s face is calm as he steps in front of me, but I see the expression on his face, and I can’t suppress the shudder of fear. The look on his face is nothing short of chilling. There is something so animalistic in his eyes, such a feral look that I’m glad I’m not the focus of that rage.
I watch in horrified fascination as his other hand reaches out, grabbing Arthur’s wrist and giving it a sharp, deliberate twist that has the man falling to his knees with a howl of pain.
“I really wouldn’t touch her if I were you,” Caleb says softly.
The low-pitched menace in his voice, makes my mouth dry. Not because of how sinister he sounds but because of the familiarity of his words.
A sudden memory seizes me of years long past.
I’m curled up on the ground, my arms protectively around my head, not crying, not making a sound.
I shouldn’t have mouthed off to Zack.
But he shouldn’t have said such bad things about Harry.
I’m being kicked at by three different children, bullies, and monsters.
And then, there’s a pain-filled cry when another child comes to my defense, standing before me, glaring at my attackers, his words quiet but filled with the promise of agonizing pain as he says, “I really wouldn’t touch her if I were you.”
“Fucking bastard!” Arthur is on his feet and I see him charge at Caleb.
Eyes widening, I’m about to cry out when Caleb sidesteps the attack and then raises his knee in an eerily fast movement, making contact with Arthur’s groin, and as the larger man bends over with a scream, Caleb’s elbow flashes out and he strikes at the back of his neck, making Arthur collapse in an unconscious heap at his feet.
My eyes flit from Arthur’s form to Caleb, in numb disbelief. “How – What – You’re not going to do that to me, are you?” I swallow dryly.
Caleb gives me a look as if to say, ‘don’t be ridiculous’.
I crouch down to check Arthur’s pulse and sigh with relief. “He’s not dead.”
“Of course not.” Caleb frowns down at me. Then the gleam in his eyes turns dangerous. “Though, if he wants to go another round, I can’t promise the same.”
I take a shuddering breath, trying to gather my wits as if I’ve not just seen my boss punch out my overly muscular landlord.
“He’s going to be so mad.” I close my eyes, pressing my cold fingertips against them. “Shit. Fuck.”
