I'Ve Got You (17 page)

A waiter brought her coffees on a cardboard tray. He gave her a concerned look as he place them on a table next to her. Needing to get away from Greg, fast, Belle went to pick them up.

‘I just want a moment and I'll prove to you that Kabe is after Butterfly Island,' Greg said in a rush. ‘What have you got to lose?' She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘No, Belle, it's not me you have to worry about.' He pulled a manila folder out from under his arm and unfolded a plan, which looked like a blueprint for a beachfront resort. He jabbed a finger at the name printed on the bottom corner of the plan, and a signature—Kabe Hunter.

She believed it had nothing to do with her pop's island; still, her blood ran cold. ‘This doesn't mean a thing,' she ground out. ‘It's probably a preliminary plan for his, Marilyn's and Dan's house.'

‘Yes, such a cosy threesome,' he said, his tone making their set-up sound ugly. He pointed at a faded date stamped at the top, which said January 2014. ‘See, way after they moved into their house.'

‘You
know
someone could've tampered with that stamp any time.' She almost laughed in his face.

Belle felt a sudden vibe and turned to look at Kabe jogging towards her, his expression burning with rage. Belle grabbed the iced coffees, glared at Greg, and stormed off.

He called after her, ‘You're making a big mistake. Kabe Hunter is only after you to get to Butterfly Island. I don't see how you can ignore the evidence!'

She turned and headed back towards Greg, iced coffees raised ready to dump over his head, when a strong arm clamped around her waist.

Kabe
.

‘Stay right here,' he ordered Belle, and without breaking stride he strode with menace towards Greg.

Belle didn't miss the flash of fear in Greg's eyes, before he lifted his arrogant chin and took a step back. Kabe eyed the open folder on the table, then shoved a hand into Greg's chest until he hit the wall. He bunched Greg's immaculate shirt in his fist, constricting Greg's throat, then yanked him forward and growled, ‘I know what you did, you piece of scum. And I will get proof, do not doubt me—
ever
,' Kabe snarled. ‘Touch Belle again and I'll break both your fucking arms. You dickless piece of shit. Nod if you get what I'm saying here?' Greg didn't move. Kabe shoved him harder against the wall, and the sickening sound of skull hitting brick echoed through the café. ‘I
said
, nod if you understand what I'm saying!' Kabe's face set like granite, his body pumped, was an awesome yet chilling sight.

Heart hammering with the rush of adrenaline, Belle froze and watched her man barely control his seething rage.

Greg's eyes skittered around the café, hoping for back-up. When none was forthcoming, he gave an angry, tight-lipped nod. Kabe shoved Greg hard, and the moment his back slammed against the wall, he released him and wiped his hand down his shorts, growling, ‘Go ahead, fucking play me. This is not the end, I'll see that you lose everything.' Kabe swung around and headed for the counter.

The wide-eyed barista had his mobile ready, probably to call the police if events got out of hand.

‘Sorry about the disturbance, Richie,' Kabe said, trying to lighten his tone.

‘That's okay, man,' Richie replied. Kabe sent Greg another threatening look, took Belle by the hand and strode out, past the shops back to his parked car. Seething while hurrying along in his wake, Belle muttered how she wanted to smash her fist into Greg's smarmy face. She wanted him to suffer like she had. The pain of losing Annaliese sliced through her as if it had happened yesterday. She gasped and her eyes stung. It was all Greg's fault, that slimy excuse for a human being. She wanted to get to a shower fast and scrub herself clean, wash Greg's cologne out of her nostrils. Just looking at him made her want to vomit.

Through a blur of tears, Belle saw Lexie waiting, hips resting casually against Kabe's car. On seeing them approach, she pushed off and straightened. Her happy smile quickly turned into a worried frown.

Kabe opened the passenger and back doors simultaneously and ground out, ‘Get in.'

Barely buckled up, Kabe swung his car out of the parking spot, and with a screech of tyres, hit the street, heading home.

‘Belle?' Lexie questioned anxiously.

If she opened her mouth, Belle was sure she'd be spitting nails. She clenched her teeth wishing she
had
thrown the iced coffees, mountain of cream and dusting of sweet cocoa and all, over Greg's fucking immaculate head and clothes. Her trembling fingers wrapped around a paper cup sitting in the cardboard tray on her lap, and squeezed. The lid popped off and iced coffee gushed everywhere, soaking through to her crotch and car seat.

‘Fuck!' Belle exclaimed, shaking drips off her hand.

‘Here,' Lexie called from the back seat, waving a bunch of tissues over Belle's shoulder.

From the corner of her eye she saw Kabe turn to look and curse, ‘Jesus!' Then stony-faced, he glowered out the windscreen.

Considering the seatbelt constraints, Belle wiped up as much of the mess as she possibly could. But all her efforts seemed to fuel Kabe's anger. She stopped fussing and, looking straight ahead, gripped the cardboard tray. The intense atmosphere sat heavy on Belle's chest. Finding it hard to breathe in the silence raging around her, she opened her side window and tilted her head; refreshing air rushed past her face, but it didn't help, not one bit.

‘Will someone tell me what's going on?' Lexie asked. ‘Because it's damn frigid in here.'

Belle straightened and grated out, ‘Not now, Lexie!'

She heard Lexie huff and imagined her sister crossing her arms in silent protest.

The closer they got to Kabe's place the more Belle seethed. Men! Greg's an arsehole and Kabe's a Neanderthal. The moment Kabe parked, Belle dumped the tray of iced-coffees on his lap, but seriously wanted to empty
all
of them over his head instead. She grabbed her carry bags of new clothes, shouldered the car door open and strode off, ignoring her wet, sticky shorts.

Kabe plonked the tray of coffees on the bonnet of his car and jogged after Belle.

‘Oh … never mind me!' Belle heard Lexie call out sarcastically.

She marched to Kabe's wing, mentally picturing where all her stuff was so she could gather it quickly, and then get the hell out. Clenching her teeth so hard her jaws ached, Belle reached for the door handle and hoped it wasn't locked. But Kabe was there before her and shoved it open so hard it bounced off the inside wall.

Great! Now he's having a temper tantrum.

All of Kabe's loving gentle ways meant nothing if he was going to treat her like this. The pain around her heart was excruciating.

She stomped inside and went straight to his bedroom. Tears choked her throat, but damn it, she was
not
going to cry.

He stalked after her. ‘What the hell was Greg playing at back there? If he touches you again I'll break both his bloody arms, his fucking legs and then his scrawny neck. He was this close,' Kabe said, thumb and finger almost touching as he followed her, ‘this close to an ambulance ride.'

Belle swung around. ‘What!?' Her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. ‘I can look after myself. He's a moron, and a coward so it wouldn't be that difficult.' Fists clenched to her sides, she went on, ‘And what about you? Have you morphed into one of those overbearing, jealous types who won't let their girlfriend or wife leave the house!?'

‘What?' Astonished, Kabe's head jerked back. ‘Fuck no!'

‘If you're not the jealous moron type then what the
hell
was all that about? Dragging me to your car! Where's your club and cave! No “hello”, “are you okay?”, kiss or hug—nothing. And what the hell was all that seething macho rage inside the car? What's all this … this posturing?' She jerked her hand in front of him.

‘That arse-wipe cornered you, was in your face making you feel vulnerable, angry in a café where you probably didn't want to make a scene. That's a shitty cowardly act. Posturing? I'm fucking pissed off!'

‘Oh—oh—don't you worry, we got that! But at who—Greg—me—or both?' she yelled and couldn't stop her mouth from trembling and eyes welling with angry tears. ‘And another thing, I will personally make sure that your car is detailed and all coffee stains
will
be removed. I'm so livid, I want to kick you both in the gonads! But him especially!' she shouted, and jerked her hand out.

‘What the … ?' Clearly taken aback, Kabe scanned her face. She could almost see the wheels grinding, going over what had taken place. Then realisation hit, and his eyes lost their sharp, alert edge. His hands relaxed, his voice gentled. ‘Aw, Belle, I'm not angry with you—never you. And I don't give a shit about the car!'

‘It didn't look like it from where I sat!' Fists planted on her hips, Belle leaned in. ‘You turned your anger on me, on the spilled mess, and yelled, “Jesus!” '

Staring at her, Kabe shook his head in disbelief.

‘Yeah … had I behaved like that in the car towards you, what would you have thought—huh?'

‘No … I wasn't … I didn't mean …' Kabe muttered. ‘I was mad because that prick made my girl feel so bad that she crushed a paper cup filled to the brim with the best iced coffees in town.' He gave her one of his quirky half grins that crinkled his eyes.

Mouth pressed tight to ward off crying, Belle said nothing and waited, then couldn't stand the silence and blurted, ‘I wanted to throw ice coffees all over his head and you stopped me,' she blathered.

‘Babe,' Kabe stated, ‘I needed to get you away from him. And whatever gave you the idea that I'm mad at you?' He moved closer, his muscled body firm against hers. Slowly, his hands came up to hold her neck, his thumbs sliding back and forth across her jaw.

Looking up at him, all her anger, fear and disappointment evaporated. ‘The fucking mixed messages you gave—you idiot,' she replied. ‘I was … violently enraged at the whole Greg thing, and then I had to deal with your tantrum. And the whole time I'm thinking, I've done something wrong,
and
now I've spilled coffee all over your car seat.'

‘Violently enraged?' The corners of Kabe's mouth flickered as he tried not to grin.

‘Yeah … that about sums it up.'

‘It didn't occur to me that you would think I was angry with you.' His hands came up, palms out, his expression apologetic. ‘But now that you point it out … yeah. Next time I want to rip someone's head off … Wait a minute, what was in that folder he showed you?'

‘Your development application for Butterfly Island.'

‘The bastard.' Both hands went into his hair and stayed on top of his head. ‘I thought that's what they were, but at the time it didn't make sense. I don't have
any
plans in at council.' Kabe shook his head. ‘Oh, he's a desperate man. Did you ask how he got hold of those plans?'

‘Damn it no, I didn't. But I did tell him anyone could have copied them and forged the date. He's such a manipulative liar. I did
not
for one second believe his accusations.'

‘But that's you, Babe, you like me.' Kabe's grin quickly faded as he continued, ‘He'll take it to the papers, and he'll convince them they're my plans, which will give them more hype that I'm the bad guy.'

‘Well, he's not getting away with it,' Belle snapped. ‘You can sue him for defamation. And I'll have him charged with … sexual harassment … g-getting me pregnant … and …'
And what, Belle?
she asked herself, rummaging through disjointed bits of memory. She couldn't come up with anything new. The bad feelings she had seemed to concentrate on his cologne, his preferred alcoholic drinks, and his overall odour. She shuddered.

Hands on her shoulders, Kabe's forehead came down to rest on hers. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Yeah,' she said and wrapped her arms around him. ‘Hold me.'

‘I always will, but listen, Babe, there'll be times when shit happens and we'll both misread what the other is on about. As long as we talk it through until we both
get
what the other is thinking, or trying to say, and we clear up the misunderstanding, we'll be fine.'

Belle swiped her face and cleared her mind. She looked at Kabe's serious face and compelling gaze, and the pain around her heart disappeared, completely. Slowly, she nodded.

She felt the tension in Kabe's body ease as he said with obvious relief, ‘I'll never play games with you, use you, or manipulate you. You have to believe that.'

Emotions riding high, all she could manage was another nod.

It seemed that wasn't good enough for Kabe. ‘Belle?'

She briefly reflected on the person she knew Kabe to be. And thought about how Greg manipulated her at work, how he carefully aimed his criticisms to break down her confidence, and how he did this by starting on a personal level. Greg's constant attacks and quiet yet pointed suggestions had affected her, but not for long. He'd never been anything other than a lying cheating bastard. She was partly to blame and should've taken immediate steps to stop his misogynistic behaviour.

Kabe had never shown her anything other than honesty and if something needed talking about, he never let it linger. She gave Kabe a lame smile and relaxed into him; resting her head on his shoulder she said, ‘Yes, Kabe, I believe you. But next time you're in a rage, tell me why.'

He tightened his hold, buried his face in her neck and mumbled, ‘Thank Christ.'

A loud knock on the door made them both jump.

Kabe looked at the ceiling and quietly muttered, ‘I want a fortress with a shark-infested moat.' He let her go, headed for his front door and swung it open.

‘The ice-cream in these coffees is melting fast,' Lexie bit out, standing in the doorway holding up two tall paper cups. ‘Even in the fridge!'