At Peace (The 'Burg #2)(3)

My mouth dropped open as she flew back on her platform stripper shoes, her arms flying out to the sides to find purchase as she wheeled backwards. There was nothing to grab onto and she tripped gracelessly off the side of her shoe but righted herself before going down.

I stared, unable to do anything else. It was like watching a hideous accident caught on film and aired on television. You didn’t want to see but you had no choice but to watch because, no matter how your brain screamed at you to do it, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Without stopping he stalked into the house and disappeared. Then the music abruptly stopped.

“Cal –” Kenzie Elise started, her hands lifted, placating.

“Shut the f**k up,” I heard his growl, his voice low, deep, rumbling and as sinister as his appearance. I heard it but I didn’t see him and Kenzie’s back was turned to me. He was still out of eyesight but, wherever he was, she was watching him.

All of a sudden I realized my goal had been attained. The music had stopped. Therefore it was time to go home and let this domestic situation play out without an audience.

I turned to leave but heard his voice again.

“You.”

Stupidly, I looked into the house to see his eyes on me.

“I –” I began to make my explanations that I was going to go home but he came at me and I stared as he did. His powerful body was moving in my direction and I was caught, seeing the danger but somehow my limbs were useless even though my brain screamed at them to move.

Faster than it seemed possible, he was right in my space, his big hand was wrapped around my upper arm and he pulled me into the house. This didn’t hurt, not his hand on me or him dragging me into the house and it probably didn’t because I didn’t struggle and I didn’t struggle because I knew this man could break me like a twig.

So I found myself standing in my next door neighbor’s house, me in hot pink daisy wellingtons, a nightie and Tim’s robe; my neighbor in faded jeans, black motorcycle boots, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket; and Hollywood movie star Kenzie Elise in a barely there, emerald green, lace teddy and platform stripper shoes.

How did this happen?

It was like a dream, a weird, bad dream that you woke up from and felt strange and unsettled and it left you thinking, What the f**k?

But, it was happening, I was there, breathing, conscious and all I could think was, God, I miss Tim.

“Stay,” my neighbor commanded to me in his deep, scary voice and I tipped my head back to look into his clear blue eyes and I could do nothing but nod.

Then he let my arm go and stalked into the depths of the house.

“Cal, darling, I just wanted –” Kenzie Elise started but he disappeared from sight so she stopped speaking.

I wondered why she didn’t go after him instead of standing there with me in the room, the front door open, wearing nothing but that teddy that left little if anything to the imagination.

Then again, in his frame of mind, I probably wouldn’t follow him either.

It was at this point I wondered why she didn’t run to her Porsche and get gone.

I didn’t run because he’d told me to stay and I didn’t think it was a good idea to defy him. He didn’t seem mad at me, not at that juncture, and I wasn’t fired up to make him that way.

She didn’t look at me and I eventually pried my eyes away from her but I was able to do this because he returned, carrying in his arms a bundle of clothes. He walked right by her, right by me and right to the door where he threw the clothes into the snow.

My mouth dropped open again.

“Cal!” she shouted. Rushing on her stripper shoes to the door, she peered out at her clothes then whirled back around again to look at him, her eyes never once hitting me. She was avoiding me or ignoring me. I didn’t know which but I thought both were good ways to play it.

He had her purse in his hand and he was sauntering back into the room. He yanked out a set of keys as she turned back to him.

“You threw my clothes in the snow!” she shrieked then jumped to the side as he tossed her purse at her. It was open and stuff flew out everywhere as it sailed through the air and then more stuff flew out when it landed on the floor.

“Cal!” she screeched, bending, bony knees to her chest, ass to the ground and scrambling to get her things.

I started to bend too, to help her but stopped when his voice sounded.

“Don’t.”

My head snapped back to look at him and his eyes were pinning me to the spot. He was so angry, visibly livid, and so frightening, I forgot how to breathe.

I slowly straightened, forcing air into my lungs as Kenzie scrambled on the floor, now on her hands and knees in her teddy and stripper shoes, shoving stuff into her purse.

“This is insane,” she snapped and she was definitely right.

He was taking a key off her keychain and had this task accomplished by the time she made it to her feet with her purse again intact which was lucky for her because he tossed her keys to her without hesitating to make sure she was prepared. She lunged to grab them, bobbled them but kept them in hand.

“Out,” he ordered tersely.

“Cal –” she started.

“Get the f**k out.”

“This scene is ridiculous,” she hissed, leaning toward him which, I thought, was not a very good idea.

“You’re right,” he agreed.