He grunts, putting his arm on my lower back. He looks at his buddy and mutters, “Back soon.” Savage is indeed a man of few words. Any other time, I’d find it hilarious. Right now, nothing is funny … everything just hurts.
He guides me into the club. There is indeed a lively party going on with half-naked women everywhere, loud music, smoke, and lots of talking and laughing. I barely give it more than a passing glance. I just want this pain to end. I’m thankful when we finally go down a small hall which is darker and quieter. Savage takes me to what I assume is Caleb’s room.
It’s all I can do not to jump when he bangs on the door. You can hear Caleb yelling inside, but the sound is muffled. The walls are cinder blocks, and the door must be heavy-duty metal because nothing is distinguishable. Heck, the asshole is probably moaning while he’s fucking his whore.
When he doesn’t answer, I refuse to wait. I reach out to see if the door is unlocked. Just my luck—and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad—it opens. I step in before Savage can stop me. What I see guts me. My stomach churns and I fight the urge to collapse on the floor. I try to control myself. It’s not as horrible as I had imagined. I figured I’d catch him rutting some bimbo. I mean, I know how he likes to climb over you and slam into you repeatedly, showing his dominance. I used to love it. Now, I just feel disgusted.
Caleb’s standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but a towel. His hair is wet from a shower. The whore in question is sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked, her legs open and bent, offering him everything. I suppose to further entice Caleb, the bitch has her fingers rubbing her pussy. I swallow down the bile threatening to come up. Instead, I stomp over, grab the bitch by her hair, bringing her face up. She screams and before she can touch me with her disgusting fingers, I draw my fist back and slam it into her nose, knowing that will give me the most bang for my buck.
“Isolde,” Caleb says. I feel his hands on my stomach, trying to pull me away from his whore. I don’t let that happen until I’m sure the bitch’s nose is broken and bleeding. She screams holding her face with blood spurting everywhere. I take a second to enjoy her pain as she falls back on his rumpled white sheets on the bed. Sheets that are quickly being stained with her blood.
I whirl on the man who has destroyed me so fast that if I wasn’t so angry, it would make me dizzy. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss.
“Baby, it’s not what it looks like.”
“Really? Because it looks like the man who told me he loved me and wanted no one but me, was half naked in front of his bed while some fucking club whore was completely naked on his bed giving him a good show. Tell me, asshole, how could I misunderstand that?”
“Damn it, Isolde?—”
I don’t want to hear his bullshit excuses. There’s nothing he can say. Before he can even try, I bring my knee back and nail him in the twig and berries. He goes down at once, holding his family jewels, and gagging as his body heaves as if he’s going to vomit. I find myself thankful that BB taught me just how to inflict the most damage with one move.
“Consider that our official breakup, motherfucker. I never want to see you again,” I growl. I run out, swearing to myself that I’ll never talk to him again. I leave Caleb still writhing in pain.
I hear him yell for someone to stop me, but he’s too damn late. I’m running for my life, and I don’t stop until I get to my car. I have it started and peeling out quickly. I look in my rearview mirror and see a few men staring at my car. One of them is Caleb in a white towel. He recovered too damn quickly. I wish I could have another shot at permanently deballing him.
I push him out of my mind. I need to concentrate on getting back to Kentucky. Once there, I’ll stay at my friend Michelle’s dorm. She’s on a break because of a family member’s cancer diagnosis. I’ll be safest there right now. Caleb won’t know to look for me, and that’s all that matters. I never want to see him again.
Ever.
21
ALWAYS CHECK YOUR BACKSEATS, LADIES
CANDYMAN
I’ve been trying to find Izzy for a week. She’s hiding from me, and unfortunately, she’s damn good at it. I’ve even had our tech guy track her credit cards. She’s not using them. Anything I can think of to find her, I’ve tried. Unfortunately, I keep coming up empty. Hell, I’ve tried asking Beau and even BB. They both hang up on me. Apparently, she’s been in contact enough to talk to them and let them know what scum I am. The damn woman won’t even let me explain.
I’d gotten so desperate that I went to the Devil’s Blaze clubhouse in person to try to explain. To say it didn’t go well is not an understatement. Shit, I’m still sporting the bruises and a black eye from talking with her brother and dad. Then Savage threw me a lifeline. He came up with a solution I should’ve thought of. I might have if I’d been thinking straight.
Honestly, ever since Isolde found me in that clusterfuck of a situation, my mind has been a mess. I didn’t touch that bitch—I would never. She was in my bed when I came out of the shower. I don’t even know how she got into my room. Still, I know exactly how it looked to Izzy though. I let Georgia and Nana get even with the girl. Last time I saw her, the woman had a burr cut and was crying. Grifter took her to the county line and told her never to come back.
I’ll tell Izzy all of that if I can just get her alone to talk to her. I need to explain exactly what happened. Then, I need to make sure she knows I would never betray her. That’s why I’m sitting outside Vanderbilt Hospital—waiting for Izzy to get off work. I could have barged into the hospital, but I knew she’d just call security. So, instead, I’m sitting in her car, hiding like a fucking stalker. Which, really, I am. I’ve been outside this hospital every day and night waiting to see her. Tonight, I got lucky because she’s finally here. The minute she parked and went inside, I broke into her car and have been waiting here. I keep glancing at my phone. I know it’s time for her to come out. I’m as fucking nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. I feel like I could jump out of my skin.
My heart practically stops when I hear heels clicking against the concrete of the parking area designated for ER doctors. I don’t dare raise up and see if it’s her. I can’t let her see me. When the sound stops next to the driver’s side door, I know I’m finally going to get to talk to Izzy again. The joy and relief roar inside of me.
I remain hiding in the backseat like a fucking chump. She gets into the car, tossing a briefcase into the back seat. It narrowly escapes hitting my balls—that are still sore from where she kneed me. My girl can definitely take care of herself.
Once she starts her car, I make my move. I rise and put my hand against her mouth so she can’t scream. Then, I quickly handcuff her to the steering wheel. It isn’t easy because my Izzy can put up a fight. Still, I get her secured while cursing when she bites down on my finger. When all this is over and she’s back in my bed for good, I’m going to have to teach her that you never get into a car blindly. You’d think she’d seen enough movies to have that rule in her brain at all times.
“Fuck, Isolde. It’s bad enough you've probably ruined our chances of ever having kids together. Now you’re trying to bite off my finger.”
“We’re never having kids. I want nothing to do with a cheating asshole like you,” she spews, hate dripping from every word.
“Isolde, I never cheated on you. I love you. What you walked in on, wasn’t what it seemed.”
“God! Spare me! That’s what every motherfucker says who gets caught cheating. I know what I saw, and there’s no way you can explain it.”
“There is. I need you to listen to me. I swear, I can explain everything. I even brought proof with me,” I assure her. That seems to calm her down slightly. She looks at me and waits.
