“You’re safe.”
I locked myself around his hard body. “Caleb,” I sobbed, burying myself closer, inhaling his warmth and strength.
“Shhh. You’re okay now, Honey Bee.”
Slowly, he walked us to the back of the Cadillac. I watched over his shoulder as a small group of four or five men, all dressed in black, raced inside the house.
Saint appeared suddenly, standing over Rafe. He kicked him onto his back and placed his booted foot onto the latter’s chest. The horrified grunt that ripped from Rafe’s throat revealed the level of pressure Saint was applying.
He looked me over. “You all right?”
“You’re late,” I complained, offering a tiny smile that showed I was grateful he was there.
Saint nodded. “Blame it on that one.” He shot a look at Caleb. “If he would’ve calmed his ass down in the bathroom instead of trying to kill me, we’d have been here sooner.”
I clung more tightly against Caleb’s chest, inhaling his masculine scent, thankful they both had made it.
Saint was staring up at nothing with his finger to his ear, listening intently before he announced, “Copy that.”
After dragging him up and slamming him against the hood of the car, Saint asked Rafe, “Where is she?”
“Who!?” Rafe cried out.
“Madeline. She’s not in there.”
“I don’t know!” Rafe yelled.
“We’ll see,” Saint said just as Caleb wrapped his arms more tightly around my center and turned me away, his hands covering my ears doing little to block out the tormented screams that ripped from Rafe.
“Where is she?” Saint asked again.
I heard Rafe’s body smack to the ground, followed by Saint’s severe statement of, “She better be.”
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Caleb said, leading me to a white passenger van—one of the vehicles they’d arrived in. He stopped in front of the headlights, stroking the tenderness of my cheek where Rafe had slapped me. He shook his head and anger flashed in his eyes, hardening his features. He dropped his hand, as well as his gaze.
I watched as five women were led from the house and into the back of the van, looking battered and worn down. The last was carrying a small child in her arms. Tears welled in my eyes—not because they could’ve been me, but because these women were finally free from whatever hell they’d endured.
“What happened to the driver?” I asked Caleb.
“Who?”
“Rafe’s driver. Where is he?”
“Inside the house.”
“Are the police coming?” I stepped back, straightening my jacket.
“No,” Caleb said, then walked toward the huddle between Saint and his guys. They broke apart before he reached them.
“Why not?”
He looked away, as if debating the answer. “Not all of them can be trusted.”
“There’s another place not far,” Saint explained to Caleb. “Mario will take Hilary and the other women to the safe house to wait for us. Let’s go.”
I grasped Caleb’s hand. “What? You’re leaving me?”
Saint crouched over Rafe’s crippled body and helped him sit up, speaking too low for me to hear. Caleb watched as well, then ran over and grabbed my duffle from the Cadillac. He and Saint exchanged a look before Caleb hastened his steps, turning quickly on his heel and heading back my way. He clutched my arm and led me away to the side of the white van.
“I’ll meet you soon. Mario will book you a flight out in a few hours. Whatever happens, I need you to get on it.”
“Wait, will you be back by then?” I asked, dragging my feet as he attempted to open the van door for me.
“I don’t know. But promise me, no matter what, you’ll be on that flight.” His penetrating gaze pleaded for me to obey.
I lowered my eyes, my emotions breaking through. “I…I promise.”
Saint’s shadow caught my eye. I watched as he stood, tugging Rafe to his feet.
Caleb flung the van door open. “Get in. Now.”
Everything that happened next was a giant blur, playing out too quickly for me to process. As I stepped up to climb into the van, I saw Saint’s monstrous hands wrap around Rafe’s neck. I couldn’t help but look, watching as he gave one swift yank before dropping Rafe’s lifeless body to the ground.
My scream was deafening, even over Caleb’s shouting at Saint as he ushered me inside the van. There was no time to process it, or for Caleb to explain why. Before I was even sitting, the van sped away, carrying me from the scene as shock took hold.
I knew nothing—who Saint really was, what Caleb was capable of. The only fact I was certain about was that Rafe was dead, and that Saint had carried out the task with ease.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Numbness and shock preserved my mind by shutting it off. I sat silently, alone in my own corner of a small warehouse somewhere outside of Mexico City. The rescued women were taken elsewhere, and a man named Mario was the only one left behind with me as I waited.
My head fell gently back against the cold brick wall that I’d propped myself up against, my legs extended out in front of me. Mario had set a bottle of water at my side shortly after we’d arrived, ceasing all other contact since then, from him or anyone else.
“Time to go,” he said a while later in broken English, stirring my attention.
I blinked, staring up at him. “Where’s Caleb?”
“Time to go,” he repeated.
I stretched my arms above my head, wakening my limbs before I stood and demanded answers. “Where’s Caleb? Saint? Are they back yet?”
Mario grabbed my duffle, ignoring me and waving his hand out for me to start moving.
“No!” I crossed my arms, planting myself firmly in place. “I’m not leaving until I know he’s okay!”
Frustration marred his expression. “Time to go!”
“Listen to me, damn it!” I stepped in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere without making sure he’s okay.”
Mario stared at me, brows knitting together. Did he even understand what I was asking?
“Do you speak English?” I asked, slowly and clearly. “Any other words? Because I'm not leaving yet.”
Another man appeared. He walked over with a piece of paper and handed it to Mario.
I rushed toward him. “Hey, have you heard from Saint? Are they all right? Are they on their way back?” I asked the second man impatiently.
The two men exchanged a look. Then Mario said something in Spanish that elicited only a shake of the head from the new guy as he handed Mario a boarding pass.
“Time to go,” Mario said yet again, pushing my own frustration to new heights.
I tore the pass from his extended hand, reading over the itinerary. The flight boarded in an hour.
“Please,” I told the new guy. “I just want to know if Caleb is safe.”
“Now!” Mario snapped, then turned to leave.
With a shattered spirit, I trailed behind as he led me back to the van and drove me to the airport. He parked in a short-term lot and followed me inside, never far behind until I passed through security. Once I was in the secure area, he was gone, but I had a feeling he wasn’t leaving the property until my flight took off.
I’d promised Caleb I’d be on it, and I intended to keep that promise. When they called my section, the airline receptionist scanned my ticket at the gate while I gave one final scan of the area to confirm he wasn’t there. Was he safe? Was he dead?
I rested my head against the tiny window, staring at the dark sky with shades of yellow and gold teasing dawn. A few more passengers shuffled on, but I didn’t care about anything except going home and finding out that Caleb was safe.
The seat beside me shifted with a body settling in, but I didn’t bother to dry my dampened eyes. Mental fatigue had left me dazed and disoriented, and I was pleading for sleep to consume me when a warm hand covered mine.
My eyes closed slowl
y as my hand was lifted and I felt the tender pressure of his kiss on my knuckles. He was safe. Caleb had made it.
Tears of relief streamed down, and my body eased further against the window. He rested my hand back between us and didn’t let it go for the entire flight. I never moved from my spot. Not a word was spoken, and never once did I glance his way. I just stared out at the sunrise as darkness shrouded me. The sweet escape of sleep finally took hold; the knowledge that he was there—that’d he’d made it—was enough for now. Everything else could wait.
Somewhere between running wildly from Rafe (whose head hung to the side from a broken neck) and falling into quicksand made of sherbet, Caleb’s voice rang through my head.
“You’re home, Honey Bee.”
I wiped my damp eyes on a yawn, twisting my body to sit back in my seat as the rows in front of us began to stand. I grabbed my duffle and turned, catching Caleb’s solemn stare as he stood and reached out his hand—one I had no memory of ever releasing. I took it, allowing him to lead me through the airport and to his car to drive me home, not a word spoken between us.
Once we arrived at my complex, he walked me to my apartment and gave it a quick look over. I wasn’t sure why, but he seemed determined to do so. He eventually returned to my open door, where I stood, and pulled an envelope from the inside of his jacket.
“Saint asked me to give this to you.”
It was slightly heavy, and I knew exactly why. A small smile tugged at my lips. “He’s okay?”
Caleb gave a curt nod. “He’s always okay.”
“Good,” I said softly, resting my hand on the knob and head on the door, my eyes still weak. “Thanks for bringing me home, Caleb. Good night.” It was almost noon, but I was ready to climb into my bed and sleep until Monday morning.
“Good night, Hilary,” he said.
I’d begun to shut the door when he added regretfully, “I’m sorry,” then walked away.
I closed the door and took a deep breath before opening the package and pulling out my phone. The notes to my father and Cassandra were also inside, along with another piece of paper.
Hilary,
Thank you for your assistance. Madeline is safe; her father is on his way down to collect her. You proved to be a stronger woman than I’d first believed. The $10,000 in your kitchen is yours to keep. You’ve earned it. Take care of yourself.
Saint
I set the note on my kitchen counter, unsure how to feel about the man. He was a murderer, but he’d saved those women. Rafe was a horrible human being, but did that make his murder okay?
I pulled the cash from the drawer where it still sat, fanning the bills through my fingers and rolling my eyes. The things people do for money. I tossed the stack onto the note and walked to my bathroom, stripping along the way.
Once in the shower, I released it all. In less than forty-eight hours, I’d been drunk, kidnapped, tormented, and slapped, and then I’d traveled to another country and watched a man die. How in the hell could Caleb and I ever start over?
As I climbed into bed, I wondered if I even wanted to.
They say that when you hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up, so I did. I visited my dad during the week once the bruises on my face were concealable enough with makeup and explained how I’d been dating a guy who was helping me financially with my apartment.
My dad’s expression was nothing but kind, with no judgment in it. He never asked any questions or tried to pry, instead instantly agreeing to cosign when I asked. I moved into my new place the following week, spending my days at school and nights at home. I moved quietly, and without any help from my friends.
Cassandra knew something was up and even mentioned Caleb to me a few times, asking how things were going. I knew in time I’d have to tell her what had happened, but I was waiting until I figured it out myself.
I felt like a zombie, zoned out to those around me. Transitioning back to my everyday routine felt dull with my world cast in darkness, all things bright and colorful drained away. As much as I desired solitude, I missed Caleb deeply. There were so many unanswered questions between us that I wasn’t sure where to start, which was why I avoided Haven at all costs.
I made an anonymous donation to a women and children’s shelter in the city for $9,000 in cash, using the other $1,000 for my apartment deposit and refusing to feel bad about it. I spent the rest of September settling into my new apartment and helping my father pack up his house and find a new place. The day he moved out, Cassandra and Logan showed up to help.
“Hey, can we talk a minute?” I asked her while we stood on the front porch, watching my father and Logan drive off to get lunch.
She set the box in her hands down, then sat beside me on the swing. “Of course.”
“You and Logan look like you’re getting along.”
She shot me a look. “He insisted on helping, but we’re still just friends.”
“Right.” I fought for laughter—an expression I dearly missed.
“Hey.” She took my hand. “I know you’ve been going through a lot with your dad selling the house and knowing that in a couple of weeks it’ll be gone, but this isn’t a bad thing. It’s a step back into the world for him.”
“Yeah.” I bobbed my head. “I know, I just…remember how I told you I moved?”
“How could I forget?” She released my hand, shooting me a playfully scorned look. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier, so I could help.”
“I didn’t have much stuff.” I shrugged. “Besides, it was peaceful doing it myself.”
She didn’t seem to buy it. “How did you move your couch—your bed?”
A small smile pulled through. “Okay, so not completely by myself. My father helped.”
“Thank God you let someone!”
I rolled my eyes, lounging back in the swing. “I know I’ve been weird lately, and not just because of the moving…” I trailed off, unsure where to start or how deep to go. The thought of her judging Caleb broke my heart, and I didn’t want her to worry about me or him.
So I started at the beginning, revealing how I’d been working for an illegal underground poker game to pay for college when I met a wealthy older man. She sat there, her expression open and kind as I told her that he’d been paying for it all and made sure to top the story off with his marital status.
Cassandra didn’t try to speak, interrupt, or do anything except listen while I explained how I’d broken it off and that Rafe was gone from my life—but not before Caleb had kicked his ass with one blow. I went on about my regrets and how I’d grown, my excitement over starting fresh, and how being a broke bitch had never felt more empowering because I knew with everything inside me that I could build my future on my own.
As much as I wanted to continue, I stopped there, omitting the trip to Mexico and anything about Saint. It’s best to forget, I reminded myself.
Logan’s car pulled into the driveway as she leaned over and pulled me in for a hug, speaking softly into my ear.
“I knew you were seeing someone in the spring,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out how you always had money and a new car, but it wasn’t my place to ask.” She pulled back, smiling. “Hilary, you live your life so freely that I wish I could do half the things you do. You’re such an amazing woman and I love you. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me the truth. I don’t care what it is—even if you kill someone, I’ll always love you, and I’m always here to help you figure things out.”
A car door slammed shut and she added quickly and sincerely, “You’re my sister in every way that matters. I hope you remember that.”
“You girls all right?” my dad asked, walking up the steps with a tray full of soft drinks.
I dried my eyes and smiled. “Just sentimental.”
“That’s a woman thing, Logan.” My dad chuckled, walking inside the house. “That’s why we need to stay clear of them when they get like that.”
Logan stopped and handed the two food
bags he was carrying to Cassandra. “Can you take these in? I forgot something in the car.”
“Sure,” she said, her eyes bright.
Friends, my ass. Those two had it bad.
Once Cassandra had stepped over the threshold and disappeared around the corner, Logan looked my way.
“Walk with me a moment,” he said, already halfway down the steps.
I followed him to his car, wondering if he had a message from Caleb.
“What did you say to her?” he asked, catching me off guard with the question.
My temple tightened in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He leaned in and lowered his voice. “About you and Saint taking a trip?”
I reared back. “Caleb told you? What did he say?”
“Relax.” Logan held up his hands. “I don’t want to know where you went or what happened while you were there, and Caleb wouldn’t divulge that information even if I did. But I know you met Saint, and that Caleb has been away more on business than not since the night you slapped the shit out of me.”
“It’s complicated,” I admitted, bowing my head.
Logan waited, watching me. When I didn’t continue, he did. “Cassandra’s different. Her intentions are always considerate and kind. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever met.”
I peered up and nodded in agreement as his expression turned severe.
“I’ll do everything I can to keep her that way,” he asserted. “She doesn’t need to know the other side of Caleb—not the way you do now. And she sure the hell never needs to know Saint even exists.”
“I didn’t tell her about them,” I proclaimed. “And I won’t. I know she’d just worry and never look at Caleb the same again.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “I promise, as long as I can help it, I’ll never be the one who shows her how dangerous this world really is.”
“Thank you.” Tension erased itself from his stance. “I just want to protect her from that bullshit. Can you blame me?”
“No, but would you believe me if I told you so do I?” I held his unwavering gaze, matching it with my own intensity.
Inferno (A Harmony Love Story) Page 25