Chapter 34 #2
Tom’s back straightens, hand going rigid against my spine.
Baby is the first to react, shoving Calvin’s shoulder hard enough to slosh his drink.
“Cal, don’t be such a fucking wanker.”
Her hiss doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. Tom’s fingers are twisting into my shirt, his palm pressing into my spine so hard I have to brace myself.
With one quick turn, he storms back to the group, snatching the glass straight out of Calvin’s hand.
He brings it to his nose and inhales. The scent of whiskey hits. His pupils flare.
I’m holding my breath.
He’s playing with fire.
Tom lets out a hollow laugh as he lifts the glass to his lips. For one terrifying moment, I’m sure he’s about to destroy everything he fought so hard for.
But just as the tawny liquid touches his mouth, wetting his lips, he stops. He lowers the glass, then deliberately licks his lips clean, whiskey dripping. His eyes stay on Calvin for a long stone-cold moment.
Then he tips the glass forward and pours it straight over the hookah.
The coals flare, thick smoke spreading across the lounge.
Calvin’s friends scramble back, coughing and waving their hands as they disappear in the clouds.
“Cal.” Tom’s voice is cold. “I can’t believe you’re necking that American paint stripper. Your standards are scraping the bottom.”
The table roars. Baby lets out a piercing whistle.
Tom doesn’t laugh.
He grabs Calvin by the collar and yanks him up short. Calvin’s twice his size, but Tom clearly couldn’t care less. His pupils go dark, fists trembling as rage takes over.
“You’re like my brother, Cal, and I love you to bits. But talk to me, or to him.” He points straight at me. “Like that again, and I swear to God, I’ll break your fucking face.”
He shoves Calvin so hard he stumbles back into his chair, bottles clattering around his feet.
Tom is looking at me now, eyes stormy, something desperate tearing through them.
I wish I knew what was happening inside his head so I could slow it down. Stop the category three hurricane from turning into a five.
I shake my head at him. No. Don’t do it.
I send it through my eyes, through the small, silent plea between us. For half a second, I think he hears me. Then his lashes drop and he turns.
Everything slows down and speeds up at the same time.
He launches himself at Calvin, spit flying as he screams, veins standing out in his neck.
“I’LL brEAK YOUR FACE. I’LL brEAK YOUR FUCKING FACE. YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?”
Calvin’s friends pile in, hands everywhere, dragging at Tom’s shoulders and arms.
From the corner of my eye, I see security already moving to us.
Shit.
This is bad. Really fucking bad.
I grab Tom’s arm just in time to stop the next swing. A body slams into him from the side. I duck over him, taking the brunt of a hit meant for his face. Pain flares in my ribs.
I twist, using a quick jiu-jitsu move to shove them off us, sending Tom stumbling back, almost falling of the platform into the swimming pool.
“Tom, fuck!”
I wrap my arms around his chest and drag him with me to the dance floor— thank God he doesn’t fight me.
The moment we’re surrounded by people, I let go. Tom doesn't think twice and takes off.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This is a disaster. Ugh. I hate it when Tiffy’s right. I need to find him before security does.
Tom cuts through the crowd with no clear direction. The rage rolling off him leaves a trail. I can feel it even from here. I follow the pull, trying not to lose him as he vanishes and reappears.
“Tom, wait! Please, just…slow down!”
Useless in this noise, so I move faster in this maze of strangers. People slam into me, smearing paint all over my shirt.
I break into an open space near the dance floor. I brace my forearm against a palm tree and try to process what just happened. The images are spinning like a carousel in my head.
Tom had brought that glass to his mouth, let the burn touch his tongue, and all I could think was that he’d give in, just to make Calvin shut up.
But he hadn’t.
Tom had known exactly what he was doing. He’d made a statement. He’s able to taste whiskey and still choose no. Something Calvin knows he isn’t capable of.
Fuck. That rage had turned me on. It shouldn’t have. But it did. He’d stood up for himself. And for me. He’d made me feel worth fighting for.
Then it hits me, clearer than ever.
He’s the one. And it scares me, but fuck, this thing blooming beneath my ribs is undeniable.
I swallow hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.
I know what it means to let someone matter like this. What it means to hand someone all of me, hoping life won’t rip it away. I also know I’m exhausted from living as if love isn’t for me anymore.
Yes, I knew Tom meant more to me than a casual Friday night fuck. But I never imagined allowing myself to want him at my side.
The fear of losing him doesn’t win. It exists beside everything I’m willing to give. It feels manageable. I want him to be mine. And I want him to stay. God, I need to find him and make sure he’s okay.
Suddenly, a hand lands on my shoulder, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“Trouble in paradise?”
I turn, and Terrence’s smug face is right there.
As if this couldn’t get any worse. But of course, watching me fail is by far his favourite sight in the world.
There’s a young brunette on his arm, both of their eyes glassy, pupils blown. High as a kite. Why am I not surprised?
“Lost your tongue along with your resort guest?”
Amazing. He must’ve seen Tom storm by before he saw me.
“Terrence, not now.”
He jerks his chin at the restaurant where they’ve taped off the dining area.
“He went that way.”
I follow his line of sight, catching the shortest glimpse of Tom disappearing around the corner. I part my lips but Terrence lifts his hand to stop me.
“Don’t thank me yet, dear colleague. You can thank me when Arcadia throws you out and I’m the one who saves you.”
I turn back. “Excuse me?”
“Come on. We both know you’re not just tucking him in at night. Let’s be honest, you’re not exactly discreet. The board will figure it out soon enough. And when they do, you really believe they’ll let you stay?”
He tilts his head and shifts gears, putting on that fake friendly tone I’ve heard him use whenever he’s bullshitting through a meeting.
“Look, I’m not the cold-hearted asshole you think I am.
I get it. He charms his way into every bed.
I hope the sex is worth it, but let’s be realistic.
This ends one of two ways: the board finds out, you’re thrown out, investigated, stripped of everything…
or you cancel tomorrow’s interview, and as the newest board member, I make sure you stay on the team. Everybody wins.”
I shake my head. This guy is unbelievable. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s not wrong. If he can see it, everyone can. And yes, I’ll lose my job — again —. But I'd rather live with all the consequences than bend the knee for Terrence.
I straighten myself and walk away.
“Think about it, Aoki” he calls after me.
“Fuck off, Terrence. Not gonna happen.”
“Don’t say I didn’t give you options. I’ll sit back and watch you fuck it up all by yourself.”
I flip him the finger, heading for the restaurant. I make sure no one’s watching before I duck under the barrier tape.
It’s quiet. Moonlight and pink neon spill over the tiles, enough light to make out the shapes of tables and chairs.
I find Tom tucked in the back. There’s a skinny olive tree behind him, its leaves catching bits of silver light.
There's a bowl of lime slices glowing on a table in the half-dark. I grab a few on my way and kneel beside him.
His legs are bent to his chest, arms folded tightly on his knees. It’s a small relief to see him calmer, even if his expression is as sour as the lime wedges I'm holding.
I sit beside him.
“Here.” I take his hand, placing the slices in his palm. “This will help to get the taste out.”
“Whiskey sour. Great.”
Still, he takes them and bites into the flesh with a bitter expression.
“There’s nothing worse than the taste of piss with a label. Shouldn’t have done that. I know it was stupid.”
My hand slips into his. He laces our fingers together like they were made to fit. Like it’s always been this easy.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I murmur, close to his ear. “You're okay.”
“I fucked up big time, Yosh. Once again I’ve proven myself to be a fucking failure.”
My breath comes out slowly. This one hurts.
“No you’re not. This isn’t about what happened at that table. You've been swallowing their poison for years, and tonight you finally hit your limit.”
His eyes flicker with doubt, I see the realization setting in.
“Standing up for yourself isn’t failure. Maybe you’re breaking the silence?”
He releases a cynical scoff, slipping another slice of lime into his mouth.
His face twists at the sourness, and the way his freckles scrunch together is absolutely adorable.
“It takes a whole lot more to get that fucker out of my head, but I think some of it crumbled away.”
He shrugs. “Besides, it wasn’t about me. I hated the way that wanker spoke about you. I didn’t want to make a scene, because I know I lose control easily. But he wouldn’t shut up, so I snapped. Now they’ve got another reason to call me unstable.”
The sharpness drains from his voice. “I get it if you think of me that way too. Maybe it’s true.”
He sighs, shoulders dropping. Something inside me twists. I reach out, softly hooking my finger beneath his chin.
“Hey, Sapphire, look at me.”
It takes him a moment, but when he does, I look straight into his vulnerable pools of blue.
“Could you have toned it down? Absolutely. But you didn’t betray yourself. Sometimes, that matters more than playing nice.”
Tom settles warm against my skin, safe as I hold him.
“You really think so?”
“I know so. I’m so damn proud of you. Thanks for having my back like that. It means more than you know.”