Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“You forgot to mention me,” says a deep and teeming-with-anger voice from the side.
Warren’s grip loosens a little when Caleb dumps a bag of rubbish into the trash before shifting on his feet to face him front on. They stand about the same height, but Caleb’s frame doesn’t seem as bulky since it isn’t beefed out with haughty arrogance.
“Go inside, busboy,” Warren spits out, his voice a vicious snarl. “This has nothing to do with you.”
When he tosses a handful of bills onto the ground like he can buy off Caleb as easily as he did the hotel owner in LA, Caleb treads on them as if they are bugs before muttering, “She asked you to let her go. I suggest you do that before I teach you some manners…” Warren looks set to interrupt again until Caleb adds sternly, “… with my fists.”
Warren tries to hide his surging panic with a breathy chuckle while saying, “That’s not how real men settle things.”
“Wanna bet?” Caleb asks, stepping even closer.
I was wrong about their similar stature. Caleb’s anger has it appearing as if he is a good foot taller than Warren and around two hundred pounds heavier.
“I won’t ask you again. Get your fucking hands off her… now.”
I’m tempted to raise my hands in the air and surrender, so I’m not shocked that is what Warren does within a second of Caleb’s demand leaving his mouth.
Regretfully, not all his response is because of Caleb’s obvious anger. Like a master chess player, he never makes a move without precise calculation of the ramifications of his choice.
He’s planning something, but neither Caleb nor I will know what that is until it’s too late.
After nudging his head to the right, Caleb says, “Get the fuck out of here before my boot finds its way up your ass.”
With his hand circling my wrist without an ounce of the aggression Warren used and Warren staring at him with a condescending grin, Caleb pulls me toward the side entrance of the reception area. He babbles under his breath during the short trek, but I can’t make out a word he is saying. My pulse is too high wondering what Warren’s next move will be to concentrate on a rant that will be far less harrowing.
I’m not scared of Warren, and Caleb’s protectiveness is endearing, but I’ve only just reached a time in my life where I’m comfortable and confident in my own skin, so I don’t want an unnecessary incident changing that.
We’re almost clear of controversy when something stops Caleb in his tracks. I assume it is my inability to keep up with his long strides, but I’m proven wrong when I follow the direction of his angry eyes. He’s staring at my arm, right at the section of skin Warren grabbed.
It’s not bleeding as predicted, but there’s no denying I’ve been grabbed. My arm is bruised from Warren’s chubby fingers, and his nails indented my skin.
“Caleb, it’s fine,” I shout when he spins on his heels and storms Warren’s way so fast, not even the stomps of his feet alert Warren to the immediate danger honing in on him.
Caleb’s first strike busts Warren’s nose open. His second sends him sailing backward onto his ass, and his third has me recalling the time Warren whined about how expensive his porcelain veneers were.
He’ll need more than new veneers if I don’t stop this. He may need a new face.
“Caleb, stop!” When my words do nothing, I toss my body into the dangerous mix. “Enough.”
I blink in rapid succession when my stupidity has my nose in direct line with Caleb’s fist.
After sending a quick prayer to God to make my parents’ suffering more bearable, I close my eyes and surrender to what I’m sure will be a painful death, so you can picture my shock when several long seconds pass without a brutal blow to my head.
I suck in a much-needed breath before popping open my eyes. The air I just sucked in races out in a hurry when I spot Caleb staring down at me. His hands are balled at his sides, and his eyes are bleak and lifeless. He’s here, but not, if that makes any sense?
With my mind shut down, I help Warren to his feet before nudging my head to the taxi that was meant to be my ride home. “Go.”
Warren is barely coherent, but he has no issues making my stomach gurgle with worry. “Where? To the police station to report this brute?” His teeth are stained with blood, and his left eye is almost swollen shut.
I don’t sound panicked during my reply, even though I’m teeming with it. “If that is what you want to do, Warren, go ahead. But make sure you mention the fact it was self-defense.”
Splatters of blood dot his chin when he spits out, “I didn’t touch him!”