Chapter 3 #3
“Better question is what are you waiting for?” I ask, pushing the bat against a little porcelain figurine sitting on top of an old television set.
“I’m waiting to see you rage.”
I take a deep breath. He’s egging me on, trying to draw me into their chaotic world. I’m above that.
The bat accidentally bumps the figurine a little too hard though, and it begins to topple over. I shoot forward trying to catch it before it hits the ground, but I’m too late. It shatters into a hundred little pieces on the floor.
Just like the plate my mom threw at her drug dealer when he came to the house one day while she was gone, and I was home alone. Or the vase she threw in the middle of the bridal shop when I told her I saw her fiancé slipping into my brother’s room the night before.
It was always something … drugs, money, sex. Broken things … lots of broken things.
Constant chaos.
My brother and I were caught in a cyclone of her making. I’m not going to get sucked into it again.
I bend over to pick up the pieces I broke when I’m suddenly jerked from the floor. Rage wraps his arms around me from behind.
“No!” he barks in my ear. He wraps his hands over mine as we hold the bat together. Then he rears our arms back and hits the center of a television.
I begin to scream at him. “I don’t want to do this!”
Rage doesn’t say anything; he just forces me to smash the next closest object.
Eventually, I yank away from him, swinging the bat on my own, knocking everything off of a nearby shelf.
“Why are you always pulling me into your fucking chaos? I hate you! I hate this! It’s always something. Fuck your boyfriends! Fuck your problems!” I scream while beating the shit out of anything in my path.
I continue to rage at the room, not even noticing that Rage himself has left.
I’m not sure what confessions I make while losing myself to my anger, but I guess it doesn’t matter. What do I have to hide?
“Mr. Johnson … you were the only good thing in my life.” I swing the bat so hard, I fall over, landing face first on the ground, right onto all of the broken rubble. “I’m sorry,” I sob, unable to get back up.
A few minutes later, I sense I’m not alone.
I usually prefer to be by myself when I cry. It’s easier that way. I don’t have to worry about anyone else’s emotions but my own. It’s simpler. Less messy.
I roll over onto my back, staring at the duct work that runs along the ceiling. He doesn’t say anything. He just sits quietly, watching me. For someone whose name is Rage, I sure haven’t seen a lot of it from him. I’ve done more raging than he has.
Slowly, I push myself up, feeling heavy and light at the same time. I know that doesn’t make any sense.
He leans forward, handing me a bottle of water. I bite back tears, struggling to get the gloves off.
He scoots closer and begins to help me remove my protective gear. His dark gaze bounces over my face, but not in the same way as before.
“I’m sorry I came here to try to trick you into giving me your secrets,” I say quietly, looking away from him.
A soft chuckle breaks free from his lips, sending a minty puff of air over the side of my face. “Do I look that easy?”
“No. I realized the futility of my mission the minute I saw you, but I’m still sorry.”
He makes a little grunting sound before pulling me to my feet. He unzips the coveralls and tugs them down over my hips. “Put your hand on my shoulder to steady yourself.”
I do, feeling nothing but solid muscle beneath my fingertips.
“I’m going to need you to be good over at the Inn while I figure this out.”
“Okay,” I answer quietly, feeling thoroughly and utterly defeated. Where else am I going to go?
Rage opens the bottle of water for me and lifts it to my mouth. “Drink,” he orders, but not nearly as gruff as before.
He tugs at a lock of my long dark hair as I take a few sips. He pulls it taught between his fingers, shifting the piece beneath the light. The copper strands shine brightly against the darker pieces.
When his eyes meet mine, he lets the strand fall softly over my chest. “You hungry?”
I nod. I honestly don’t remember the last time I had anything to eat.
His finger pushes against the bottom of the bottle, making sure I finish it off.
We lock up his business and then continue down the sidewalk, both lost in our thoughts. The sun has already dipped behind the horizon, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.
When we slide into a booth at the cutest little café, he apologizes. “There isn’t much open downtown on a Sunday night.”
“This is … this is great,” I say, my eyes taking in all of the antique cowboy memorabilia on the walls.
His gaze remains on me.
A waitress walks over and hands me a menu. “Do you want your usual?” she asks Rage.
He nods, still not taking his eyes off me.
It makes me slightly uncomfortable. My face is probably all red and splotchy from crying. “I’ll just have whatever he’s having,” I say, handing the menu back to the old woman.
They exchange a glance, and he gives her an amused nod. She turns away from us, shaking her head.
“What? Your usual isn’t something weird, is it?”
“Not unless you’re a vegetarian.”
“No.”
“Then you should be okay.”
The way his eyes seem to be glued to me makes me a little nervous, but I can’t say I want him to remove them. It feels oddly safe. Like I can look at the world around me without the worry of someone sneaking up on me. Which is weird because it’s not like he’s watching my back.
But he did save me from myself earlier today.
I settle against the seat, trying to relax. He’s probably just keeping an eye on me until they can figure out how to get rid of me. He probably thinks I’m a nut job. Which isn’t even a lie.
“Do you need to go back?” he asks, his brows pulling together.
“Back where?”
“You need more time in the cage,” he mumbles to himself.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have more shit to get out.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Your head is still spinning.”
I raise an eyebrow, feeling my anger rise to the surface again.
“Well, in a matter of twenty-four hours, I found out my brother is dead, that he owed the Scorpions a shit ton of money, and I am now expected to repay his debt. When I refused, they killed my boss who was the sweetest man I’ve ever known, and now I’m sitting across from the scariest person I’ve ever met.
” I tick off all the ways my head is spinning on each of my fingers.
He doesn’t refute my claim that he’s scary. A clear sign I’m right and he knows it.
“If I don’t go back, Savage will come for me,” I tell him.
Nothing I’ve said seems to affect him in any way.
The waitress comes out balancing a large tray. When she starts to unload it, my mouth falls open. “This is all for us?”
Rage doesn’t answer, he just digs in.
The woman pats me on the hand. “Don’t worry, honey. We have take-out containers.”
This is like a week’s worth of food. It all looks delicious, but this is simply crazy.
I watch as the man across from me eats. I suppose it takes this many calories to keep a physique like his.
He taps his fork on the corner of one of my plates. “Eat.”
I start with an omelet. It’s stuffed with sausage, cheese, and peppers. I also take a few bites of pancake, but that’s all I can do.
“Where do you put it all?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, just stabs my uneaten steak with his fork and places it on his empty plate.
I’m learning the man doesn’t talk much, and that’s okay with me. I just wish I knew what he was thinking. Obviously, he doesn’t want me dead, but other than that he’s given me no indication of his motive to keep me here.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask cautiously, attempting to take a bite of my hamburger that hasn’t been touched.
“You don’t need to worry about it.”
I roll my eyes. “So, I’m just supposed to go back to the Inn and wait?”
“Exactly.”
His phone rings, and he answers it. “We’re at the diner,” he tells whoever is on the other end.
He listens to them while still stuffing his face.
“I’ll take her back.” His dark scowl returns to rest on me. “That won’t be necessary. She’ll be good.” He hangs up. “CC will be by in the morning to escort you back to the Cage. I want you to spend a little more time there.”
“Who?”
“CC … carbon copy.” When I still don’t understand, he sighs. “Carson and Cole … the twins.”
“Oh them. Well thanks, but I’m good. I don’t need any more time at your establishment,” I say, slightly embarrassed by how quickly I lost myself to my anger back at the Cage.
And what’s worse, I cried in front of him.
I know better than anyone how either of those things can be used against you.
Now he knows my weak spots. “I’m sure you already have people scheduled. ”
“They can reschedule.”
“Rage,” I begin to argue.
The look he throws my direction makes me snap my mouth shut.
“Fine,” I say, acting like I have a choice.
He helps the waitress box up my leftovers and then stands. “There’s a microwave in your room in case you get hungry later,” he says, holding up the bag as we walk out together.
“I’m so full, I don’t think I could eat another thing today. I just want to sleep.”
When we step into the Inn, I’m sad to see that Tiff is still working.
“Hey, handsome,” she says, leaning into the counter so it pushes her breasts into a more voluptuous position.
Rage doesn’t even look in her direction. He simply walks around the counter and grabs a key to my room. He doesn’t acknowledge her at all.
She glares at me as we make our way up the stairs.
He unlocks the door to my room and gently pushes me ahead of him. A skitzy little butterfly flits around the pit of my stomach at being alone with him. He bought me dinner, what if he expects dessert in return?
Rage walks around my room. He checks the bathroom and even under the bed.
“Keep your door locked. Remember CC will be here in the morning to take you over to the Cage.”
“Will you be there?” I ask, turning away from him shyly.
“No.”
He doesn’t say anything else before he steps out and closes the door behind him.
I stand frozen in the middle of the room for several minutes, then jump when the door swings back open.
“I told you to lock the door.”
“Oh, yeah.” I spring into action, moving toward him.
He stares at me for a moment before disappearing.
After I click the lock in place, the door handle jiggles, like he’s double checking my work. I peek out the little hole in the door, and he taps his finger over it, making me hop back.
“Be good,” his muffled voice calls from the other side of the heavy wooden door.
He doesn’t know me very well, because that’s all I’ve ever tried to be.