Hold Me (11 page)

“No. Stay where you are.” I rush to get a broom and dustpan, then carefully scoop up all the glass from the floor around Caleb’s feet. When Caleb lifts his foot, I can see blood staining my white carpet. “Oh God, you’re hurt. Sit on the couch.”

“It’s nothing.” He doesn’t seem overly concerned, but he does as I tell him. “Sorry I ruined your carpet. I wasn’t looking.”

“I don’t care about the fucking carpet.” I rush to the kitchen and throw the glass into the trash, then head to the bathroom for some antiseptic, gauze, and some tape. Caleb’s lips part in surprise when I kneel on the floor in front of him and take hold of his injured foot.

“Really, it’s fine. You don’t...” He tries to take the antiseptic from me, but I shake my head.

“No, don’t move.” I can’t see any pieces of glass stuck in his skin, so I gently dab at the gash, wrap the gauze around his foot, and secured it with a small piece of tape. “There. All done.”

He offers me a smile, and I notice the dark circles around his eyes. One glance at the clock tells me it’s pretty late already and he must be tired. Besides, my muscles are aching too, and I can’t wait to lie down for a bit.

“Let’s go to bed,” I say.

His brow creases for a moment, but he follows me to my room. I don’t know if he expected us to have sex the whole night, but I don’t think either of us could do that right now.

As we snuggle together in my bed, I can’t help but feel like he and I belong together, no matter how weird that seems. All I know about him is that he won’t hurt me, and for now, that’s all I need. I’ve always thought that finding a connection with strangers is impossible, but now I’m not so sure. And I think Caleb likes me as much as I like him. With those thoughts, I drift off to sleep.

I wake up with a gasp, my throat dry. Disentangling myself from Caleb who has one arm and leg draped over me like a hot blanket, I get to my feet and switch on a little lamp, then pad to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water.

As I sit at the kitchen table, I hear a scream. Letting go of the glass, I run toward my room. Caleb is twisting and turning in his sleep, the covers hanging over the edge of the bed.

“Heather, no! Heather!” he cries out, and I climb on the bed, reaching for his arm. As soon as I make contact, his eyes fly open and he nearly scrambles off the bed.

“Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream,” I say.

His eyes are wide, his chest heaving, his forehead covered in sweat. He finally lets out a loud breath and closes his eyes briefly. “Did I... Did I wake you?” Concern creases his brow.

“No, I went to the kitchen and I heard you yell, so...” I shrug. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Does this happen often? The nightmares?” I know he doesn’t have to tell me anything, but I’ve never seen anyone react that way.

“More than I’d like it to,” he admits, and I’m surprised that he answered.

“Who’s Heather?” I ask, and his body goes so still that I’m not even sure he’s breathing.

“No one,” he says quickly, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Is Heather Caleb’s girlfriend? I swallow hard. Great. That would be just my luck.

“So you’re having nightmares about no one. Right,” I bite out before I can stop myself. “Is she your... girlfriend? Someone you care about?” I know I shouldn’t be asking, considering I’m just his client, but if he has a girlfriend, then I’ll definitely have to step away from him once and for all, even if they aren’t together just now. If he still cares about her, there’s no place for me in his heart.

“She was my girlfriend.” His dark eyes meet mine. “She’s dead.”

My hand flies to my mouth, my eyes widening. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. She died a few years ago.” His face is an expressionless mask, but his eyes betray the grief. Is that why he’s doing this? Because the love of his life died and he thinks he’ll never find someone like her?

“How did she die?” My voice is almost a whisper.

He shakes his head, lowering his gaze, and I know he doesn’t really want to talk about it. Suddenly it makes much more sense why he expected the lovers in the movie we watched to end up tragically.

I’m not sure how to comfort him, so I settle down on my pillows and extend my hand to him. “Come here.”

He just watches me for a moment but then crawls toward me and places his head on my lap. I caress his hair until he falls asleep, and as I observe his serene features, I wonder how much Heather’s death has affected him.

The next morning, when Caleb tells me he wouldn’t mind making us breakfast, I think he’s joking. But as he places a plate of perfectly fried eggs and ham in front of me, I narrow my eyes at him. “So you know how to cook too?”

“More or less. I’m not a chef.” He shrugs, popping a piece of ham into his mouth.

“But you didn’t burn my kitchen down. That’s amazing. I’m hopeless at cooking.” I take a bite and am surprised that the food is even better than it looks.

“It’s not that hard, really.”

“It’s not? Oh, let me tell you about that one time I tried to bake some cookies and they turned out inedible.”

“I don’t know how to bake cookies either. Eggs are easy.”

“Only if you’re not me. I somehow managed to screw that up too. They were black and smoking, but I guess I shouldn’t have tried painting my nails at the same time.” I take another bite. “God, this is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He takes a seat across from me, a proud smile on his face.

When we’re done eating, the doorbell makes us both jump. I immediately go for the door, unsure who it could be. Caleb gets to his feet too and looks alert, but he picks up the empty plates and puts them in the sink.

“Should I get a shirt?” he asks. He’s wearing only his pants, but I shake my head. It’s unlikely I’ll have to let anyone inside. Maybe it’s the postman and he has something that I have to sign for.

“Just stay here.” I’m sure I can keep any unwanted visitors away from my kitchen. Although, it has to be someone who has the code to enter the building, so I doubt it’s anyone I don’t know. I look through the peephole, and the sight in front of me makes me freeze. Katherine’s makeup is smeared all over her face, her hair all tangled and messy. I immediately open the door.

“Kat, what happened?” I take in her whole appearance. Her black dress is torn at the front, barely covering her chest, and she’s holding her shoes in her hand. There’s a dark bruise forming on her forearm. She pushes next to me and heads straight for the kitchen.

“Don’t ask,” she says. “Sorry for barging in on you like this, but I need to borrow a decent shirt to cover up this mess.”

I don’t have time to tell her about Caleb because she’s already at the kitchen door where she stops dead in her tracks, her shoulders tensing, her brows drawing together. “What the fuck is he doing here?” she all but snarls.

“That’s none of your business,” I say, not willing to deal with her dislike for Caleb right now. “I’ll get you a shirt and then you can go.” I head toward the room, keeping an eye on her. She leans on the doorway and crosses her arms, glaring at Caleb. It takes me a minute or two to find the shirt, so I rush back. But as I near the kitchen, I see Katherine is no longer in the doorway.

“Stay away from her,” she hisses. “She doesn’t know anything about your world. If you know what’s best, you’ll break this off once and for all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Caleb’s voice is low and calm.

“Oh, please. I know you’re...”

I hear a commotion and a gasp.

“Should have known. You’re Raphael’s,” Katherine says.

I dash to the kitchen and find Katherine clutching Caleb’s pants and exposing his tattoo. Caleb is gripping her wrist, anger written all over his face.

“Hey, let go of him!” I yell, unsure what the hell is going on. Katherine steps back, swaying on her feet and blinking rapidly. She’s drunk. She’s fucking drunk.

“Here’s your shirt.” I throw it at her and she barely catches it. “Call someone to get you home so you can sober up!”

“Fine. I will. Thanks for the shirt,” she mumbles, smiling at me, then her smile disappears as she looks at Caleb.

When I hear the door close behind her, I turn to Caleb, flush creeping up my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. She’s just... drunk,” I say, but Caleb’s brow is wrinkled, his body rigid. As I reach out for him, he steps away.

“I should go,” he says. “And I have to ask you something. Please don’t call for me anymore. I think you want something I can’t give you. It’s better if we never see each other again.”

With those words, he strides out of the room, and my mouth goes slack, my chest tightening. I’m sure Katherine knows something, because she didn’t seem drunk enough to act the way she did. Somehow she knows Caleb and maybe he knows her too. I just need to find out what their connection is.

And who is this Raphael Katherine was talking about? I don’t want to lose Caleb because of her, but I know that no matter what I say now, he won’t change his mind, not after Katherine practically assaulted him. I need to give him time, and I sure as hell need to find out what’s going on.

My hand is shaking when I ring Katherine’s doorbell later in the afternoon. I’m still angry with her and I want to look her in the eyes now that’s she hopefully sobered up so she can tell me what her deal with Caleb is. As I wait, I chew on the insides of my cheek and wonder if she’ll refuse to see me and just pretend she isn’t home, but finally the door opens and Katherine meets my gaze, her lips pressed together into a tight line.

“Hey,” she says. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Yeah, well, some things can’t wait.”

She steps aside and lets me in. Her apartment is not that different from mine, but it’s slightly smaller and the colors that prevail are different shades of blue. She isn’t wearing any makeup, her hair is tied up in a loose ponytail, and she’s dressed in her favorite black sweatsuit. I plop onto the black leather couch and cross my legs.

“I’m waiting,” I say as she sits on the sofa across from me.

“For what?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“For an explanation. You assaulted Caleb in my kitchen! I want to know why.” I glare at her.

“I’m sorry about that.” She chews on her lip. “I was... in a bad place.”

“Yeah, I could see that, but that still doesn’t explain any of your actions.”

“Look,” she runs a hand over her face, sighing, “I’m truly sorry for what I did. It won’t happen again.”

“Of course it won’t. Because Caleb actually told me he didn’t want to see me again!” I raise my voice, feeling a vein pulsing in my neck. Katherine leans back in the sofa, her shoulders relaxing, which only angers me more.

“Good,” she says.

“Why?”

“Oh come on. Your obsession with him is unhealthy,” she says, trailing her finger across the armrest. “You’re paying him a lot of money just to fuck him. How is that okay?”

“I can do with my life and my money whatever the fuck I want, just like you can do with yours. I’m not judging you for going off with a different guy every night, even if that doesn’t always make you happy, but I know it’s your choice. I respect that. And now I do something you don’t approve of, and you actually decide to ruin things for me! Why shouldn’t I just walk up to the guy you’re dancing with next time and tell him to get his fucking hands off you because I don’t think he’s the right one for you?”

She bites on her lower lip. “I know it looked bad, but I had good intentions.”

“Well, so would I, but you know good intentions don’t mean shit. Just tell me. What’s up with you and Caleb?” I give her a pleading look. “Help me understand. Maybe I’ll actually agree with you. Just please tell me what’s up. I know you’re not just upset about the whole paying for sex thing. Please tell me. What do you know about him?”

“I can’t.” She sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Caleb’s connected with some really bad people and you don’t want to get involved with that. Trust me.”

“What kind of bad?” I’m on the edge of my seat, my nails digging into the leather of the couch.

“The kind that could get you killed.” She looks up at me and her face is completely serious.