Come Away With Me(89)

“Baby, look at me.” I do as he asks without hesitating and am so relieved to see his beautiful smile. “Spending the day alone with you in this beautiful tropical paradise sounds perfect to me.”

“Okay,” I smile at him, relieved and continue to dig in to my pancakes.

We finish our breakfast, and while Luke is in the shower, room-service-in-a-canoe comes to take away the dirty dishes and linens. The man is quite large, and is talkative while he gathers the things into a box to put on the canoe.

“Your husband is a very lucky man,”

he smiles at me and I smile, but inside something doesn’t feel right.

What an inappropriate thing to say. I don’t correct his misunderstanding about my marital status and simply say, “Thank you.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Um, not long.” Why is this creeping me out? I learned long ago to trust my instincts, so I cross the room so I’m standing behind a large couch, near the bathroom door.

“Oh, that’s nice.” He wanders over to the couch and picks at some pretend lint on the arm of the orange fabric. My heart speeds up as fear takes hold. He’s trying to move closer to me and now his eyes are predatory. “I’ve noticed you this week. You’re very beautiful.”

“I think you’d better go now.” I move around the other side of the couch away from him but he’s following me and my heart is in my throat.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you here. My husband will be out any minute, and I’m not interested. Get the f*ck out or I’ll have you fired.”

“You can’t do that, my uncle owns this resort.” He laughs and starts to come at me faster.

“Luke!” I scream, but before the word is out of my mouth the large man is thrown from behind and slammed into a wall. Luke, his breath heaving and his face contorted in rage, is gripping onto his throat. He punches him in the face, twice, and blood spurts out of the man’s nose and he screams like a girl.

I’m quite sure no one has dared lay a hand on him before.

“I’m going to make sure you don’t ever try to touch another woman at this resort again, you f*cker.” Luke’s voice is cold and calm, his eyes glacial, and this is a very angry side to him I’ve never seen before.

“Are you okay, baby?” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, doesn’t take his eyes off of him.

“I’m fine.” My voice is stronger than I feel and I’m glad.

“Call the main desk and tell them to call the cops. Tell them what happened.”

I do as he asks and within minutes a motorboat pulls up at our bungalow with management and police, and a man who must be the *’s uncle.

The police take control of the situation and relieve Luke of his charge. Luke then races to me and enfolds me in his arms. I must be too shocked to do more than stare

wide-eyed

at

what’s

happening around us.

“Are you okay?” His hands are running up and down my back, soothing me.

“Yes, I’m okay. He didn’t touch me, he was just really creepy, and I know he would have if you weren’t here. He felt off the minute he came in here, so I moved behind the couch close to the bathroom in case he tried anything, and he did.” I shiver and Luke pulls me tighter to him.

The uncle is yelling for the police to arrest him. It seems this isn’t the first time this has happened. The Asshole is crying and blubbering, but no one cares.

As I watch what’s happening around me, the fear is replaced with pure rage.

I pull out of Luke’s arms and walk over to The Asshole being handcuffed by the police. He’s crying down at me, weak and afraid and before I know what I’m doing, I bring my knee up, right between his legs and bring him to his knees.

My chest is heaving and there is sudden silence all around us.

“I am not a victim.” My voice is hard and controlled and loud because I want him to hear every word. “And you are nothing but a piece of shit.”

“Did you see what she did to me? I want to press charges!” The whiny Asshole is wailing, but his uncle raises his hand, silencing him.

“I didn’t see anything that you didn’t deserve. Get him out of this bungalow.”

He’s escorted out and the owner apologizes profusely, offering comps and refunds and anything else I can possibly imagine. I’m sure he’s praying we won’t go to the press, which we won’t anyway.