24. Melanie #3
My boy hesitates, his eyes darting between each of us, his look determined.
After a few seconds, he meets my stare and tips his chin in agreement.
“Fine.” He throws one last glance at his father, his mouth opening.
I brace myself for what might come out. At the last moment, Oakley changes his mind, spinning on his heel and walking away.
Harrison follows him, carefully maneuvering his crutches around the tables.
For several seconds, no one moves, Cale’s fingers still viciously digging into Davis’s shoulder. When I’m sure Marcy is keeping her claws to herself, I sidle closer to his side, murmuring, “Let him go.”
“No,” he says just as quietly. His eyes never shift away from Davis, but I don’t think that it’s my imagination that he relaxes fractionally at my nearness.
“If he wants to make a scene, let’s make it a good one.
” He checks over his shoulder, checking that Harrison and Oakley are gone.
When he turns back around, his dark expression is the only warning I get before he’s pulling his arm back and driving his fist into Davis’s soft middle.
Davis lets out a loud groan as he crumples forward, bending in half as he gasps for air. I watch him impassively, surprised at just how little I feel. Marcy starts squawking, trying to yank Davis up, demanding someone call the police.
“Why would we call the police? He tripped and fell,” the man at the table beside ours scoffs. “You should try to be less clumsy, Davis.”
His wife titters, her eyes gleaming. “Just embarrassing. Imagine giving away a family like that, and for her.”
Humor bubbles in my chest. Okay, so having an audience isn’t so bad.
Marcy’s face flushes as more people join in with their opinions, none of them favorable for her and Davis. She steps closer, lips twisted into a sneer. “You’re going to regret this,” she hisses. “Both of you.”
Davis straightens, croaking, “That was assault. You attacked me.”
“Yes!” she agrees, looking rabid. I’m actually a little surprised she’s not foaming at the mouth. “I demand to see the manager! Right now!”
“Ma’am,” someone says. We turn around, finding a guy in a black button-down standing nearby. “I’m the manager. What seems to be the problem?”
“Are you serious?” Marcy demands. “That man attacked my boyfriend. I demand that you call the police.”
The manager looks over at Cale, who smiles easily. “No, I didn’t. He fell into my fist.” He wraps an arm around my waist and yanks me into his side. He looks down at me, the pleasant expression belying the fury in his eyes. “You okay, darlin’?”
My heart is thudding so hard that my chest aches. I stare up at him, unable to decide if I’m turned on or enraged.
“What are you doing here?” I demand in a harsh whisper. “And why did you bring Oakley?”
Cale’s lips quirk in a small smile that sends my stomach swooping.
“Because I’ve been giving you a lot of space lately, and I’ve decided I’m done with that now.
” One hand presses into my hip, while the other, reddened knuckles and all, caresses my cheek.
“You wanna go on dates, Melanie? You’ll go on them with me. ”
“You can’t just—”
“Don’t call the police,” Davis says loudly, a panicked edge entering his voice.
I’d almost forgotten he is still here, but he’s not talking to us, focused on the manager.
“It’s nothing. A misunderstanding. Everything’s fine.
” He shoots a glare at Marcy. “Would you shut up?” He grabs her arm roughly, dragging her away and throwing a look of contempt back at us as he goes.
After the door slams shut behind them, it takes several long moments for the restaurant to simmer back down as everyone returns to their meals. I’m unsettled, embarrassment searing into my skin, unsure what I should be doing now.
Cale strokes a hand down my back. “You okay?”
“I…don’t know,” I admit, not ready to acknowledge his words, keeping my eyes averted from him. “I need to find Oakley.”
“Harrison wouldn’t have gone far.” Cale pulls out a familiar envelope from his pocket—one that shimmers faintly in the overhead light. He catches the eye of the server. “I’m ready for the check.”
“No!” I slap his hand down, ignoring his mock-wounded look. “You’re not using that to pay for my date with Harrison. It’s for the window.”
He watches me for a long moment, his eyes considering.
“You’re right,” he finally agrees. “This money should be saved for something else—”
“The window!” My voice is on the wrong side of shrill.
He acts like I didn’t say a word. “—so I’ll pay for your date myself."
Throwing my hands up in frustration, I whirl away from him, snatching up my bag and escaping from the restaurant. I pause out on the sidewalk, letting the cool breeze outside try to ease my fury. I can’t even pinpoint where to direct my rage.
Davis?
Cale?
The entire fucking evening?
I press shaking hands to my hot cheeks, my chest so tight that it feels like I’m stuck in a vise, each breath a struggle as I fight back the urge to scream.
My phone rings in the bag, and I pull it out with jerky movements, desperate for a distraction.
I pause when I see Rosie’s name flash across the screen.
I breathe deeply, then again, making sure my voice is calm when I answer the call. “Hey, Rosie. What’s going on?”
“Melanie,” she breathes, and something about the sound is choked and wet. “Someone tried to break in while Nell and I were home.”