Read Keep Me: A HERO Novella Online
Authors: Leighton Del Mia
Tags: #alpha male, #superhero, #fairy tales, #gothic, #wealthy, #action, #Suspense, #billionaires
Keep Me: A HERO Novella (9 page)
“She returned right after I called you,” she says. “They took her in the back, but she looked pretty nervous. Maybe you should—”
I don’t wait to hear her suggestion but go directly to the gallery’s office. I enter the room without knocking, causing everyone to jump and one cop to reach for his gun.
Cataline bolts out of her chair. “What are you doing here?”
“Melinda called me.” I look past her to see files and papers spread out on the table’s surface. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing, Cal—”
“I’m her boyfriend,” I tell the officers.
“Calvin Parish?”
I clear my throat. The way he says it is as though he’s going to follow it up with,
“You’re under arrest for . . .”
“Yes. That’s me.”
Cataline throws herself into my body suddenly, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Please let me handle this. Please, Calvin.”
I grip her upper arms and pull her off to step around her. “What’s going on?”
“There’s no reason to be alarmed, Mr. Parish. We just needed to review Miss Ford’s statement.”
“Statement?”
“After the Cartel released me, I had to give a statement,” Cataline says. “You know this.”
I nod that I do, even though I didn’t. “Why is it necessary to review it now?”
“Well, Mr. Parish, I don’t know how familiar you are with the situation, but back when Cataline was, er, abducted, Hero took out quite a few members of the Cartel—including their leader.”
“Right,” I say.
“Basically, he hit them where it hurt and knocked them off their feet. However—”
“They’re back,” Cataline says.
“A new leader has risen in Carlos’s place. We’re not sure of the details yet, just that they’re forming again. Now, we don’t think anyone has reason to worry. They’ve made no indication that they’ll be returning to New Rhone. The FBI just informed us that anyone involved in the case should be notified and that we needed to review their reports in case they have any new information.”
“Which I don’t,” Cataline says. She leans over and begins gathering up the papers, but I catch her forearm. She looks up at me with big, blue eyes. “You don’t want to know, Calvin. Just let it go.”
I pull the top page to me by its corner.
“Sir, if she doesn’t want you to—”
I silence him with a glare and look at Cataline. “Whatever this is, I need to read it. Understand?”
She swallows, nods, and looks away. “That’s the transcript from when I gave my statement.”
The officers seem concerned, but everyone falls away the moment I start reading. It begins suddenly with Cataline explaining she’d been drugged most of the time and this was one of the only things she could recall in any detail.
“Guy Fowler locked handcuffs around my wrists, chained me to the wall, whipped me while Carlos watched, and then took my pants down.”
“Just so we’re clear, you’re identifying Guy Fowler and Carlos Riviera as your kidnappers. We’ll need a verbal answer, please, Miss Ford.”
“Yes.”
“Were they angry with you? What were they after?”
“I don’t know exactly. I only knew I was bait for Hero.”
“Did they have other captives?”
“Not that I know of. They asked me some intimate questions too. I think maybe they had other plans for me once they killed Hero.”
“Did they say why they were trying to get to him?”
“Never.”
“All right. Let’s proceed. What happened after he removed your pants?”
I want to look away, but my eyes won’t stop reading. Whomever she’s speaking to, they want details. I know from those details, and because I can sense Cataline’s nervous energy behind me, that this is more than a story fabricated by her.
“Mr. Parish—”
“Shh,” I say. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach through the paper and rip Guy’s arms off. Finally, I have to stop. “What the fuck?”
“Calvin—”
“Did he . . . ?” My hands thrust into my hair. “How could you keep this from me?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.” She grabs my arm with both hands and tries to pull me away from the table, but I can’t bring myself to face her. “I thought of you the whole time,” she says.
I shrug her off and leave the room, slamming the door behind me. My feet pound the pavement on my way back to the office.
Guy Fowler?
I hadn’t thought of the name in years. He was never more than some scum the Cartel had picked up along the way.
The East Side isn’t far from here, a fact I’ve always hated until this moment. I could go there, take this out on someone who deserves it. I could. Anyone within arm’s reach over there is bound to have done something to warrant a beating, maybe even a kill. My skin burns.
Yes. I could kill someone for this.
I barely make it to my office, where I bury my wandering thoughts in paperwork until after everyone has left for the day. I sigh and run my hands over my hair. The transcript’s sterile, typed words are sandpaper across my brain. Someone needs to pay—now, this moment. But then I think about Cataline and what it must’ve been like for her to relive that. By herself. When I’ve calmed enough that I can trust myself again, I gather my things and head to her apartment.
She opens the door slowly when I knock. “Where’s your key?”
“I have it. Wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”
She takes my hand and pulls me inside. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head. “Did all of that really happen when you were with the Cartel? Tell me the truth.”
“Maybe it’s best I don’t.”
“I don’t want secrets between us.”
“It was never a secret,” she says.
My hands curl in and out of fists. I hold up my palms. “Look, I’m trying here. All I want to do right now is tear off someone’s limbs, but—”
Her eyes double in size.
“I wouldn’t—I don’t mean I’m going to go do that. Just trying to explain that I’m pissed. This is another level, Cat. For me to contain it is a damn near miracle.”
“I know.”
“Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Okay.” She nods. “All right.”
“What exactly did the officers want?”
“To let me know that the Cartel isn’t dead. They’ve been lying low until the right time. They’re rebuilding with a new leader and a new crew.”
“Who?” I pause as we stare at each other. “Guy Fowler.”
She nods. “He’s the only one I dealt with when I was with the Cartel. Not Carlos. He—” she pauses. “I never told you, but he knows things about you.”
“What things?”
“Your identity. He said he saw you fight and also watched you get shot. But he said he was the only one.”
“He’s the one who broke into my car.”
“He asked me if you were immortal and how you did it.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
She shakes her head. “Never. I would’ve died first. Someone like that could do so much damage with that formula.”
“Why wasn’t he at the shacks with Carlos when I showed up for you?”
“I’ve never been able to figure that out.”
I want to turn away, but my feet are leaden. “What I read . . . did it go further than that?”
“No, baby. No. They tried, but Guy wouldn’t let anyone else touch me. What you read is as far as he took it. I don’t want you to be angry with me.”
I take her face in my hands. “I’m not angry with you,” I say heatedly so I’m sure she understands. “Why didn’t you tell me though? You should’ve told me.”
“I just . . . you worry about me so much. It would’ve sent you on a rampage.”
“It’s my job to look after you.”
“It’s not your job,” she says with unfiltered pleading. “When will you understand that you are not responsible for everything bad in the world? That you can’t protect everyone and everything?”
“I get that. I do. I’ve given up being a hero, but you can’t ask me to give you up. It’s selfish—I do it for myself. I protect you because I can no longer see my life without you.”
“Jesus Christ, Cal,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I wish you could see how good you are. How much you care. Why can’t you let yourself be happy?”
“I am happy. I am so happy with you. If I’m a better man, it’s because of you.” I kiss her too hard and she not only takes it, but she gives it right back to me. God, if she only knew I am as happy as I’m capable of being. I love my little sparrow, the only light in my darkness, the only one who’s shown me what life is supposed to be. If I’m good, if I’m happy, if I’m better—it’s all for her.
“So, Cataline,” Dr. Adams says. “This is our fifth session now. Let’s take stock. Are things improving?”
“I think so.”
“When was the last time you cut?”
“Not since before he came back.”
“
He
being your captor.”
“That’s right.”
“So things are going well with him?”
“Yes.”
“My concern as always is that he is a temporary fix for the cutting.”
“You have it backwards,” I tell him softly. “The cutting was a temporary fix for him.”
His lips twitch into a smile for maybe the first time since I started seeing him, but it’s fleeting. “What happens if he leaves or you get in a fight? We still have quite a bit of exploring to do.”
I clear my throat. “I agree. I don’t think about cutting anymore, because I don’t feel like I need it. But I never want to go back there.”
“That’s good. You’ve made progress, Cataline. At least . . . it’s a start.”
“Thank you. But there is one thing. We’ll fight. We’ve been through a lot, Doctor, things I could never tell you. We’ll get angry and frustrated with each other—that’s who we are. But he’s not going anywhere. And neither am I.”
“Be that as it may, I still have my reservations about you staying in a relationship with your captor. As we work through that, through losing your parents, and through your childhood, I believe your cutting and drug use will no longer make sense to you. Let’s go deep, Cat. Can you do that?”
I nod. “Yes. I can do that.”
After my session, I find Calvin downstairs waiting for me against his car. If not for his smile, he’d look almost sinister dressed in all black on this overcast day. “Your chariot awaits,” he says.
“I was thinking of flying.”
“A little sparrow like you . . . I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. There’re a lot of sky-bound predators out tonight.”
“It’s okay,” I say with a smile. “I have my big, bad crow to keep me safe.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Nobody likes crows.”
“Oh. Hawk?”
“I think you mean eagle.”
“Whatever,” I say, stifling my giggle.
“How was your session?”
“He says I’m making progress.”
“Progress is good.”
“How’d the sale go?”
“All set. I am no longer the master of the house.”
“You’re master of my apartment.”
He sighs, tucking hair behind my ear. “Doesn’t sound quite as grand.”
“Fine. Master of my world.”
“I can work with that,” he says with a sly smile. “Although, master of two apartments could be all right.”
My brows furrow. “What’s that mean?”
His fingers play with strands of my hair. “The apartment next to yours is for sale. What if we buy it and knock down the wall?”
“We’re not going to Banks Street?” I ask, rising onto the balls of my feet in excitement.
“No. But here are my conditions: a much, much bigger bed and a top-of-the-line security system.”
“Whatever you want. As long as you’re paying for it.”
He laughs. “I have a little extra cash seeing as I’m out a mansion.”
“You have yourself a deal.”
Dusk makes everything black and white—the birds against the clouds, puddles in the pavement, even the leaves tumbling in the breeze. Except for Calvin’s eyes—they’re my horizon, and nothing but green. He kisses my nose and says, “I have myself a whole lot more than that.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Leighton Del Mia lives behind large sunglasses and under massive headphones. She can usually be found behind and under these things at any Starbucks on the West Coast, which is where she writes twisty books between sips of black coffee.
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