Chapter 3 Eliza
ELIZA
I watch Caleb as he parks the truck, looking completely calm and composed, like he didn’t just beat the crap out of a guy. My heart is still pounding in my chest, just like it has been from the moment I stared up into his eyes outside the club.
He cuts the engine, and suddenly the world feels tense.
The night thick. Even the slightest sound of the trees is deafening against the silence in the cab.
I shift slightly in my seat, trying not to make it obvious that I’m still trembling from tonight’s events.
I’m not sure what’s got me more on edge—being attacked, or being saved.
Anger cuts through me. I want to curse him out for abandoning me last year. For embarrassing me when he pointed out all the stupid decisions I made that led to my assault. But I don’t. I relax into the moment, feeling safer than I’ve felt in over a year.
He still isn’t looking at me. His strong hands grip the steering wheel as he stares ahead at the house, its windows dark. Thank God my parents are asleep. The last thing I need is to have a conversation with them about what just happened.
I feel the spot on my wrist where he grabbed me, remembering his touch, the way he led me from danger with such confidence. So sure of himself. At that moment, as his grip tightened, the rest of the world fell away, and I felt truly under his control. Protected. Claimed.
My phone vibrates, and I quickly pull it out of my purse. It’s Mara, and I realize I’ve missed six calls from her and a load more texts.
“Hey, sorry,” I say as I answer. “I’m okay. I didn’t see your calls—”
“Do you know how worried I was!?” she shouts. I can hear the concern in her voice. “I thought you were dead!”
This is so embarrassing. What kind of a friend am I? I should have called her the moment I knew I was safe. “I’m so sorry, Mara. I’m all right though.”
“But how? Like…what happened to you? Where are you?”
I glance over at Caleb, who I know can definitely hear Mara’s voice blaring through the phone. “Caleb…he just happened to be in the area and…took care of Tony for me then drove me home.”
Long pause. I can just see Mara’s face in my mind as she processes this. She’s met Caleb before. “He just happened to be there, huh?”
Not good. I can just hear the wheels turning, the sarcasm in her voice. I have to squash this now before she becomes suspicious.
Something resembling a single laugh rises up from Caleb’s throat, but he covers it with an obviously fake cough. He still isn’t looking at me. I look better than I ever have in my life, yet he’s still just staring straight out the glass.
“Listen, Mara, I’m real sorry, okay? But I have to call you back.
” I hang up and put my phone back in my purse.
I stare at Caleb. I know he feels my gaze.
So why won’t he look at me? He followed me to the club, he watched me, he saved me.
He came for me. And now he’s acting like he doesn’t even know me—like I truly am that annoying little brat he left behind.
His large frame fills the cabin. His scent fills my lungs like a hypnotic cologne. It’s sweat and danger all bundled into one. And it’s causing something to stir within me.
Just as I’m about to look away, I notice it—the little thread of red yarn tied around his wrist. The bracelet I made for him last year when I didn’t have enough money to get him a birthday present. It was only meant to be a joke, but when I see it there, a warmth rolls over me.
“You still have it.” I smile, my voice soft.
“What?”
I point, and he looks down. His eyes soften briefly, but he quickly turns away, hiding his face from me.
“Yeah, well, it would have been heartless to throw it away.” Okay. Not sure if that’s a compliment, a thank-you, or just a nice way of saying he doesn’t actually give a damn about it. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
He exits the truck, and I feel a moment of loss, like he’s leaving again. I unbuckle and quickly hop out, but as I’m rushing over to his side, my foot catches a branch and sends me toppling over.
I cry out, but a pair of strong hands clasps me under the arms, and yet again, I find myself looking up into the mesmerizing eyes of my step-brother. Now he’s looking at me.
“Careful, Eliza. You don’t want to hurt yourself.”
I feel the cool night air on my butt and realize my dress has hiked its way up over my hips. Blushing, I quickly stand up and tug it down. Did Caleb notice? If he did, he sure isn’t letting on. He just turns his back on me and walks up the steps to the front door.
Why is he coming inside? He has his own place to go back to now.
I remember the night he left—when I watched from my bedroom window upstairs as the tears began to fall. The urge to shout at him was nearly overwhelming. To this day, I’m not sure how I pushed it down. When he drove off, I lost it and spent the rest of the night crying my eyes out.
He leans past me and closes the door. “Go get changed.” It’s not a request; it’s an order. An angry order. My shoulders slump and my heart sinks as I realize the truth; my outfit tonight isn’t pleasing him; it’s annoying him.
Or is it?
What if my outfit tonight is making him jealous? Maybe he’s angry because those other men saw more of me than he ever has. The thought makes my stomach flip. No, that can’t be right. Caleb is gorgeous. He could have any woman he wants. Why would he be interested in me?
“Why do you want me to change?” I ask. “Why do you care? You don’t live here anymore.”
He turns quickly, and the space shrinks. My back hits the wall as he moves closer, glaring at me, his eyes on fire. I know what I want to hear, but will he say it?
The heat from his body pins me. His scent sends my head spinning. My breath quickens, catching in my throat. A tingling sensation spreads across my skin, giving me goosebumps. This is the closest I’ve ever been to a man before—well, voluntarily at least. And I’m literally shaking.
From this close, I notice the veins in his forearms and the calluses on his hands. Caleb is a working man. Rugged. I’d trust him with anything.
I feel my heartbeat between my thighs, pulsing like the beating of a drum.
“I don’t have to live here to look out for you,” he tells me. “I’m your older brother—”
“Step-brother,” I correct him. “And you didn’t answer my question. Why do you care?”
Silence falls over us again. Somewhere in the back of the house, a window creaks from the wind. My body is screaming at me to pull my eyes from his, but I don’t. I keep them there, fixed against his fierce gaze. I may be young and na?ve, but I’m not a scaredy-cat.
“You know why,” he finally says, his voice low. He steps back, creating distance between us that physically hurts me. I reach out and grab his arm—a solid slab of hot muscle—but he pulls away and barks, “Go upstairs and change!”
The volume of his voice causes me to jump, but something in me actually warms at his retort. He could have dumped me off outside and driven off, but he didn’t. He came inside. And now he’s watching over me, telling me to change out of my hot night club outfit.
He is jealous, and even now, he can’t face me in my skimpy little outfit.
A secret satisfaction starts to form in my core, but it’s squashed as I watch him turn around and tug the door back open. Memories of that night come rushing back, and I fight the urge to throw myself at him. No. Don’t leave me. Not again.
I want to rush after him—throw myself desperately into his arms and plead with him to stay—and I almost do. But somehow, I manage to hold back. How desperate do I want to look to a man who, up until now, has wanted nothing to do with me?
“Caleb…” I somehow manage to whisper, but it’s too late. He’s already closing the door behind him.
I stand there, deflated, until I hear the sound of his truck engine starting.
Then I slowly take the stairs up to my bedroom.
Once inside, I pause, then lock the deadbolt behind me.
Still wearing my dress, I lie down in bed and close my eyes, replaying everything that happened since I left with Mara.
I remember Tony, but Caleb eclipses everything.
You’d think something so horrible would just stick in your mind, but all my thoughts are on him.
The spot on my wrist where he touched me is tingling more than anywhere else.
If I close my eyes and take a breath, I can still smell him.
If he left his scent on me, I won’t shower tomorrow.
Who knows when I’ll see him again? I can’t get rid of it.
Talk about an emotional roller coaster. It takes me hours to come down and even feel remotely tired. But when I think back to that first encounter outside the club, and the way he looked at me, I realize he wasn’t looking at me like a sister…
And I desperately want him to look at me that way again.