Page 7 of Caring for Cailin
“Absolutely. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
Cailin gifts me with the most incredible smile. “Good. I’m glad.”
As the evening progresses, the dining room empties out until there are only a handful of customers other than myself. By eight PM, it’s just me and a table of three young men left in Cailin’s section, and she stops at my booth to let me know she’ll be done once they leave.
“Hopefully soon,” she says quietly. Stealing a quick glance at the three men, she adds, “I’m pretty sure they’re all done. I just have to drop their check. And then I was thinking, maybe you could come over for a little while? Unless you have plans?”
Will it be even harder leaving Cailin after spending several uninterrupted hours with her? Yes. But I wouldn’t dream of not accepting her offer. “That would be great. Just tell me when you’re ready to leave.”
“Probably half an hour or so.” She flicks another look at her other table. One of the men is staring directly at her, and she jolts. “Maybe he wants to pay,” Cailin adds. “I’ll go check.”
As I watch her approach the table, something in the man’s eyes makes my skin prickle.
It’s his greedy expression. Like he sees something he likes, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it. I’ve seen men like that before—ones who’d rather take than risk asking. Men who play at being confident, but deep down, they’re terrified of being rejected.
I could be overreacting. Allowing my protectiveness for Cailin to invent problems where there aren’t any.
Still. I set my coffee cup down. I put my phone away. My muscles tense. The Ka-Bar I never fail to carry is a reassuring weight in my pocket.
With most of the customers gone, it’s not hard to hear Cailin’s conversation with the three men. At the start, it’s normal—just her asking how their dinner was, if they need anything else, or if they’d like the check.
“What I really want,” the greedy man tells her, “is you.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “That’s not an option,” she replies in a clipped tone. “I can get you another drink. Or the check. That’s it.”
I’m already half out of my seat when he clamps his hand around her slender wrist. “Come on. It’ll be fun. We can hit the bar after you’re done. I’ll pay for everything. All you have to do is stand there and look beautiful.”
Cailin tugs at his hold, but he doesn’t release her. Instead, his fingers dig into her delicate skin. “Let me go.”
A red veil descends over my vision.
He’s upsetting her.
Touching her without permission.
He might even behurtingher.
I close the distance between my table and theirs in seconds. Then I wrap my arm around Cailin’s shoulders—her trembling shoulders, that fucker scared her, I want to kill him for it—and snarl at him, “Let her go.Now.”
He blinks in surprise. Then he works away the fear in his eyes and lifts his chin. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re touching her.” I pin a furious look at his hand; still wrapped around her wrist. “She told you to let her go. You didn’t listen to her. So.” My voice dips. “Get your hand off her before I remove it myself.”
“Let her go,” one of the other men mutters. “This guy looks crazy.”
I glare at the greedy man. “Your friend isn’t wrong. When I see guys like you manhandling women…” I reach into my pocket to retrieve my Ka-Bar and flick the switchblade open. “Do you want to try me?”
The asshole drops Cailin’s wrist. “The fuck!” He jumps to his feet, knocking his chair over. “You reallyarecrazy!”
Without waiting for his friends, he makes a beeline for the exit. “Fucking crazy,” he throws over his shoulder. “I’m never coming back here again!”
“Don’t,” I reply coldly. “Not if you know what’s good for you.”
The other two men shoot up from their seats. One of them casts an apologetic look at Cailin. “Sorry,” he says while tossing bills onto the table. “He’s an asshole sometimes.”
“It’s okay,” Cailin whispers.
“It’snotokay,” I correct. “At all. Tell your friend not to even think about coming back. If he does, I’ll know it. And I’ll make damn sure he regrets it.”
