Inferno (A Harmony Love Story) Page 5

  As quickly as I could, I blocked his number and tossed my phone back on the nightstand. Apartment hunting suddenly took priority on my to-do list before I started teaching in a couple of weeks. He was right about one thing, though: The apartment was too expensive for my new pay. Not to mention the landlord was a piece of shit.

  As I settled against my pillows, basking in the silence, nearly asleep, my phone pinged again. What the hell!? I blocked him, so how…

  Unknown number, 12:18 a.m.: You still awake?

  My stomach tanked. Thought he already knew I was home. And did Rafe seriously just use someone else’s phone, or another of his own? Wouldn’t doubt he’d stolen his wife’s, the twisted son of a bitch.

  Me, 12:20 a.m.: What part of FUCK OFF are you unclear on?

  Unknown number, 12:22 a.m.: Pretty self-explanatory. That’s usually my line—didn’t realize I deserved it so soon. Might need some clarity before you bruise my ego, Honey Pie.

  Me, 12:24 a.m.: This is too much! What you NEED is an ass kicking! Is your wife sleeping next to you right now, PSYCHO? And Honey Pie? If that’s some messed-up stab at flirting as an attempt to get back into my panties, you’re even more pathetic than I gave you credit for. So I’ll say one FINAL time, as nicely as possible: GOODBYE.

  Before I could calm down enough to block the new number, he texted again.

  Unknown number, 12:25 a.m.: Not sure who has you all riled up, but I’ll be the one doing the ass kicking. Just need a name and consider it done.

  What? My entire body ignited in humiliation.

  Me, 12:27 a.m.: Who is this?

  The wait for the reply grew unbearable. Maybe it was a stranger who got the wrong number, assuming I was a different girl. My fingers were crossed he lived at least a state away.

  Unknown number, 12:32 a.m.: Take a guess.

  Me, 12:34 a.m.: It’s late here and I’m not interested in playing games. I apologize for my assumption. I think you have the wrong #. Good night.

  Unknown number, 12:35 a.m.: Hmmm. This Hilary? The one with the sweet smile, pink cheeks, and stunning curvy figure who came into my place tonight and ran off without a goodbye? ’Cause I’m thinkin’ I got the right # if so.

  Holy shit! My entire body shot up and landed me on my feet. Caleb!

  Chapter Five

  The smart thing to do would’ve been to take a breath and respond with some witty banter or a friendly joke. But instead, I stood paralyzed, brain sputtering, about to hyperventilate. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before.

  My hands trembled, gripping the phone more tightly when it dinged again.

  Unknown number, 12:37 a.m.: I lose you already?

  Think—or at least blink! I mentally chastised myself. Finally, my muscles unlocked and I slid back onto the mattress.

  Unsure what to say, I hit three keys.

  Me, 12:38 a.m.: No.

  Not my best, but it was all I had. I waited, impatient, trembling. What was taking so long? I need to say something. Something smart—hell, anything!

  Before I could figure it out, my phone lit up, ringing. One look at the incoming call confirmed whom it was from. Of all the times I’d fantasized about this moment, none had me feeling this rattled.

  “Holy shit!” I screeched, and with brave fingers, I hit talk. “Hey.”

  I strived for a clear, sexy voice and, to my luck, it wasn’t half as shaky as I felt.

  “No, I didn’t lose you? ’Cause it sure felt like it,” he replied with a casual tone that did nothing to help my composure.

  “Sorry. Just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

  “Right,” he said slowly. “I get that. Now tell me who’s bothering you.”

  Crap. I’d forgotten about that little issue, and how I’d went off on him. He must’ve thought I was crazy.

  I forced a laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Really?” His voice was smooth and silky, soothing my rampant nerves.

  “Yeah, really. I’ve taken care of it.”

  I leaned back against my headboard, waiting for a reply that never came. “So anyway, how was tonight?” I asked. “It looked like everyone was loving the place. You must’ve worked really hard on it, obviously. I mean, it shows. The place was rotting away before. But I’m sure you already knew that. Sad, really—I ate there more than at home growing up.”

  I was rambling…crap.

  “Not that everyone agrees with me—my dad loved the place.”

  Shut up!

  Why wasn’t he speaking? His breath was steady—he was still there, which was why I continued, despite my entire brain screaming for me to shut the hell up.

  “I bet you’ll be on the front page of the paper tomorrow.” An awkward laugh bubbled up. “Not that it’s a huge deal, but in this town, it’s something.”

  Still, he remained silent. “I’ll pick you up a copy if you want,” I continued. “I mean, not that you can’t get it yourself. What made you want the diner, anyway?”

  Finally, a question. Brilliant—a reason to end my torture.

  “What’s his name?” Caleb asked.

  “W-what?”

  “What. Is. His. Name?”

  My brows puckered in confusion. “Whose?”

  Caleb chuckled, and I couldn’t control my own smile at his sexy huskiness until I realized whom exactly he was asking about: Rafe.

  “You figure it out yet, Honey Pie?”

  My cheeks flared at the sentiment. “Um, yeah, but seriously, can we please just forget about him?” Speaking of the jerk revived an anger streak best left controlled and away from Caleb, especially since he’d already seen a peek of it in texts. “I really did take care of it. He’s not gonna bother me again and to be honest, if he does, I’m more than capable of handling it.”

  “How ’bout you let me decide that?” His voice was final and dominant.

  All the girly giddiness fell away. “Look, I appreciate you looking out, but I’m a big girl. So can we just drop it?”

  “Sure,” he said easily…too easily.

  “Um, thanks.”

  “Just understand this is only a temporary dropping.”

  I didn’t like that. But at the same time, feeling his concern for me wasn’t the worst thing.

  “And will you do me a favor?”

  “Um…okay.”

  “Whoever this guy is that’s bothering you, stay clear of him. If he has you this upset, you don’t need him.”

  “I, uh…”

  “And thank you,” he said in a softened tone, cutting me off, “for the offer, but the paper delivers every morning, so I got it covered.”

  “Right, no problem,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, I should probably let you get some sleep.”

  “You don’t want to know why I called?”

  Very much so, but I had a question of my own first. “Yeah, and how did you get my number, anyway?”

  A rough, almost caged-like growl so sensual I could never describe nor forget it echoed through the line straight down my spine, with goosebumps following in its wake.

  “I have ways to find out anything that’s worth knowing.”

  My heart raced, skeptical that I could be worth knowing for him. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t hard—small town and all. Most people have my number.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, physically silencing my insecurities.

  “Do they?”

  “I mean, not guys, but friends—well, guy friends and some guy guys. Obviously, I date. I mean, I’m no virgin. I mean, I’m no…um…saint.” Shit, shit, shit. “Anyway, I’m sure you remember what it’s like growing up here. Everyone knows everyone.”

  And just like that, I’d killed every shred of dignity I was clawing to hold on to.

  “Right,” he said, so slowly I wasn’t sure if he was waiting for me to go on or trying to figure out how to get me off the phone, nicely but for good.

  My face stung with humiliation, and more than ever I wanted to throw up. Vomit sat low in the back of my t
hroat, just waiting. After this, he’d never call again, and I couldn’t blame him. I was a rambling slut, as far as he was concerned.

  “So why did you call again?”

  “I heard you might be able to help me out with something.”

  “Yeah, anything,” I said, relieved he wasn’t saying goodbye.

  But my overly eager reply earned his chuckle, which I swear caused the vomit to rise. How could this night get any worse?

  “I mean, if I can find time, I’d be glad to.”

  He chuckled under his breath again, and this time I wanted to die from the humiliation. “Well, I heard you were the girl to get ahold of for a good time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That you knew exactly how to put a smile on someone’s face. That true?”

  My eyes slid shut, mouth tugging into an uncontrollable frown. He really did think I was a slut. Whom had he been talking to? I’d slept with one or two guys from the group of them in town—no way I had that reputation!

  Between Rafe, his wife, and now this, I felt like the universe was sending a painful message—one I didn’t like but couldn’t ignore. I wouldn’t be defined by my faults.

  “Sorry, but you got the wrong girl!” My heart dropped, crushing against my ribcage, but anger and mortification kept the pain at bay. “And feel free to lose this number, Caleb.”

  I hung up, tears already sprung and falling to my pillow. Caleb Townsend was no different than all the other jerks, and it was that thought alone that brought on more tears than I was prepared for.

  When the phone rang again moments later, I hit ignore, unable to stand that the one guy I ever thought was better than me was, in reality, the worst of all. He didn’t even try to hide what he wanted.

  Unknown number, 12:48 a.m.: Think you got the wrong idea. Answer the phone and I’ll explain.

  Me, 12:49 a.m.: It’s fine, really. I get why you left Harmony now.

  Unknown number, 12:51 a.m.: I was told by multiple people tonight how you threw the best parties in town. No one said a negative word about you.

  Parties? He was talking about parties? Drying my cheeks with my sheet, I replayed the conversation. He said he wanted a good time…had he been flirting with me, making it sound suggestive to test me?

  When the phone rang again, I answered, unsure how I felt besides completely on edge.

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  “Hello again,” he said. “I apologize for any confusion. I simply meant I asked around tonight about what people wanted at Haven in the future—certain bands, food dishes, and such. But they had other things in mind: karaoke, free poker, and something called speed dating.”

  “Okay,” I said numbly, still unsure how I fit into it all. “I heard you had a list of bands lined up.”

  “Yeah, but people want more, and I plan to deliver.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” I asked. Confusion and frustration were only the beginning of my emotions. I was ready for the day to end so I could return to my dream version of Caleb.

  “Some of the girls offered to help out, but there was an older guy at the bar when I was closing up, saying he knew someone who threw infamous themed parties and was always coming up with brilliant ideas—that she knew how to show everyone a good time and made sure people always had a smile on their face.”

  He paused, and I could’ve sworn I heard him clear his throat. “Obviously, I was curious, and that’s how your name came up. Not as devious as you had assumed.”

  “Oh.” What else could I say other than, I’m sorry?

  With a heavy sigh, I attempted to explain. “Look, it’s been a weird, crazy, and draining week that has put me on edge. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “Maybe you should have. I could’ve just come right out with my request. So no apology necessary. Just an answer: Do you know anything about speed dating?”

  I had to laugh now, sliding down to my pillow, emotionally exhausted. “Personally, I think it’s absurd, but it could be fun. And for a bar owner in a town where people are dying for a place to hang out on a Saturday night, very profitable.”

  “Profitable, I like.”

  I laughed again as I pulled my sheet up, getting comfortable. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll need some help with the logistics. I’d like to set it for next Saturday night. What would you say about stopping in to Haven tomorrow?”

  Biting back my grin, I replied, “Sure, and I can help get the word out. I know plenty of single girls.”

  “Fantastic. I like that.”

  My stomach churned. “I’ll put together a notebook of ideas for you.”

  “Yes, bring all these fresh ideas I heard about, and I’ll get flyers made up.”

  Smiling to myself, I yawned. “You got it. Just one more question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Did this guy at the bar tell you his name?” I already knew the who, but I’d find out the why in the morning.

  “Yeah, but does that matter?”

  I closed my eyes, refusing to worry. “That depends. What else did he say about me?”

  There was the slightest chuckle. “That he taught his daughter to throw a punch before she could walk and shoot a gun better than most men he knew.”

  I laughed, still needing answers but resolving to let them rest for the night. “And he’s right about both. Good night, Caleb.”

  “Good night, Honey Pie.”

  I woke the next morning feeling revived and determined to start fresh. First was a call to Cassandra since I didn’t receive a text to go jogging, although I was pretty certain I’d made it clear it wasn’t for me during the previous day’s run. When she didn’t answer on the third try, I gave it a rest and started emptying my closet.

  Every designer heel and dress was soon photographed and uploaded to my favorite online resale shop. It was over $10,000 worth of merchandise, but I priced it all low enough to make fast cash and get it out of my sight.

  It felt good to clear out the old, making room for the new me. I nearly skipped into the shower, singing to myself. With my long hair in a high ponytail, I tugged on some cutoffs paired with a white tee, grabbed my purse and sandals, and was out the door before eight.

  My first stop wasn’t the easiest, but it was essential: the bus stop just outside of town.

  “I’ll miss you,” I said bittersweetly to the beautiful Mustang before leaving the keys inside and hopping into the waiting cab I’d called. I unblocked Rafe’s number just long enough to let him know where to find the car before re-blocking.

  We pulled up to the used-car lot in town and I got out, praying I wouldn’t be calling the one and only taxi driver in town back in twenty minutes. Despite my concerns over the price tags I walked past, I was excited about buying something on my own.

  A salesman surprised me from behind. “Good morning. What can I help you find today?”

  I turned, smiling brightly. “Hi. I need a car, but I’m on a bit of a budget.” I bit my bottom lip, knowing said budget wouldn’t buy much.

  His smile faltered for a split second. “Yes ma’am, we can help you with that. What kind of price point are we looking at?”

  My gaze held his, head high. “Fifteen hundred.”

  His all-tooth grin morphed into a closed-mouth compliant nod. “Well, we got a few around back you can look at in that price range, or we could see about getting you preapproved for a loan.” He looked hopeful again, and I almost felt bad dashing it.

  “Maybe, but I need to keep payments under two hundred a month and I don’t have any real credit.”

  He nodded, more slowly this time. “I see. Well, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

  I wasn’t sure of the answer, but luckily another potential customer pulled in. “You mind if I just look around for a while first?”

  “Sure, yes, take your time,” he said, distracted and already walking their way.

  The cars out back were over twenty years old and not reliable; I wasn’t a mechani
c and wouldn’t ask my dad for help every time it broke down. That left me wandering around the cars up front again. They may have been used, but the lowest price I found was $4,000 for a ten-year-old Toyota Camry. It was a far cry from the Mustang, but similar to the car I’d had before Rafe. It was a dull-gold color, but the interior was spotless.

  The door was unlocked so I climbed into the driver’s seat, unsure what to do. The thought of getting a loan was daunting, but my other options were worse. I needed the $2,000 I had in savings to go toward a new apartment, but a vehicle was a necessity. School started in two weeks, and I wasn’t going to be the new teacher bumming rides from Cassandra every day.

  I’d need a second job. Teaching pay was good for a single girl, but I had student loans and no roommate to help with rent. Cassandra had an extra bedroom, but I liked living alone. It was the one thing I couldn’t imagine giving up, no matter how hard I’d have to work.

  I made my way over to the salesman just as he was walking inside.

  “Did you find something you liked?” he asked.

  Not really, I wanted to say, nervous about getting approved. But instead, I smiled brightly and told him, “I’d like to test drive the Camry over there and then look into the loan process.”

  “Absolutely, miss!”

  By the time I left the lot, I had $1,000 less in my savings but was driving my very own car. The down payment pushed the loan through and kept my payments right at $200—exactly what I could afford.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” I told myself, feeling pride in my Camry as I headed to my dad’s with few questions.

  Chapter Six

  After yet another unanswered call to Cassandra, I hung up, beginning to worry. I’d give her space for a few more hours, but this wasn’t like her.

  “Dad, you awake?” I called out, kicking the front door shut as I juggled his coffee and a bag of pastries in one hand and my purse in the other. I knew he couldn’t resist sugar first thing in the morning.

  “Barely,” he croaked from the living room.

  I entered the room with an easy smile that quickly fell away. “Did you sleep in the recliner?” I asked, watching him struggle to sit up.