But then I registered the car and the man sitting behind the wheel, and all good feelings disintegrated.
Caleb’s BMW stopped inches from us.
He got out of the driver’s-side door, slamming it so hard I was surprised the glass didn’t shatter.
I flinched.
Vincent tightened his grip on me, as if he’d sensed my fear. I’d almost let myself forget what Caleb was capable of. I’d let myself lock away the memory of him punishing me on the stairs for my supposed infidelity with Nash.
Now that night came back in full force, as well as the knowledge that he could do it all again if he wanted to.
Caleb’s gaze clashed with mine. The seething anger in his eyes was as plain as day. His jaw was rigid, his fingers clenched into fists. He didn’t acknowledge Vincent. He just glared at me with all the hate in his cold heart. “Get in the car.”
I couldn’t say anything. Fear had seized my voice box. My fingers tightened in the back of Vincent’s shirt that I hadn’t even realized I was clutching.
Vincent cleared his throat. “I suggest you take your own advice, sir. Bliss won’t be leaving with you.”
Caleb let out a harsh laugh. “Bliss?” He took two steps forward, going eye to eye with Vincent. “That’s my fiancée you’re talking about. You’ll address her by her given name.” He spat the words in Vincent’s face one at a time, marking each with a pause. “Bethany. Melissa.”
Vincent went still. He and Caleb were probably quite similar in terms of build. Tall but not super solid. If I hadn’t seen Vincent’s biceps when he’d taken off his sweatshirt last week, I wouldn’t have had any clue about the body he’d been hiding underneath his loose fitting clothes.
Caleb clearly assumed the same. Either that or he was just arrogant enough to think that Vincent would step aside at his command, like I would have.
“Bliss asked me to call her by her nickname. So I will.”
Guilt swamped me hard and fast. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d dragged Vincent into this or because guilt and shame were just a regular state of being for me. It was my fault Caleb was mad. My fault he was here, making a scene.
“Vincent, it’s okay. Let me go.”
“No.”
If Caleb had said it, I would have been terrified. But when Vincent refused to let me go, all I felt was the rush of relief and safety. I wanted to step into him closer and let him wrap his arms around me so I could bury my face in his chest.
Little Dog let out a growl and then launched into a series of angry barks.
Caleb snorted, his gaze rolling over Vincent from head to toe. “No? Did you actually just try to keep me from my future wife? You think your rat there is going to help you, little gay boy?”
A rush of anger roared through me at the condescending tone in Caleb’s voice and the homophobic slur. I had no idea of Vincent’s sexual orientation, and it wasn’t any of my or Caleb’s business. But Vincent was hardly a boy. Clearly younger than Caleb, yes. But nothing about Vincent was anything but all man.
Caleb just chose not to see it.
“Stop it, Caleb!” I hissed, trying not to draw any more attention to us. At any minute, a parent could drop off a child, or one could look out the window. I didn’t want this to be the example I set for them. “I’m not your wife. And I’m not your fiancée either. Not after Friday night.”
He raised one mocking eyebrow. “Have you told your father this?”
I hadn’t, and he knew it.
“What about all your friends? All your father’s work colleagues. Your stepmother and her family. Have you thought of the scandal it will cause?”
“It’s not me who ended this relationship, Caleb. It’s you.”
“You stupid bitch,” he hissed. “You stupid whore. You don’t get a choice.”
“I do get a choice.” But the words sounded weak. I heard it and saw it in his expression. I needed something more. A final nail in the coffin of our relationship so he’d just leave me the hell alone. Maybe I was being petty, but I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me. “I deserve better than this. I’ve realized there are men out there who will treat me right, so when I say we’re done, I mean it. I’m moving on.”
He laughed. “Bullshit. You fucking liar. Who else would want your ugly, fat ass?”
I crumpled under his insults. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. Whenever we argued, he brought up my weight. It was an insecurity he took great delight in pushing. And every time, it hurt more than any other barb.