Chapter Two

Callum

I stared at my computer screen, counting down the minutes until I could go home. Since being down a driver for the last week, I'd been filling in to make things run as smoothly as possible. I was set to end my day in about thirty minutes, and it couldn't be over fast enough. I owned and operated Elite Rides, a car shuttling service. It was something like Uber. I even had a hand in developing an app to run the service through.

In addition to that, I also own a limo/private car service. After seeing how well the car shuttling did, I decided that expanding my services in my local area would be a good idea. I catered to everything from proms to weddings to gala events. A few high-profile clients used me to take them from place to place around the state as well. We are currently booked through the year for various events.

We'd been up and running for about six years now, available in fifteen major cities in the southern states. At thirty-five, I was blessed to be able to make money in my sleep. I honestly could have easily replaced my sick driver temporarily. However, since I lived in the city, it was easier just to cover the shifts myself.

Today, however, was draining. For whatever reason, there was an influx of bookings. I wasn't upset about that. More bookings meant more business, and more business meant more money. I was simply tired. My bed was calling me, and I would answer that call as soon as I left.

The sound of my notifications dinging alerted me to a request.

"I was so close," I muttered.

With a heavy sigh, I looked up the information for this last ride. After claiming it, I grabbed the keys to the last SUV on the lot and headed out. Settled in the driver's seat, I loaded my smooth RB playlist, rolled down the windows, and started toward my destination. The sun had gone down, and there was a cool breeze blowing. I was thankful for light traffic because this fifteen-minute ride could easily turn into forty-five.

When I pulled into the neighborhood, I turned the music down so I could focus. A minute later, I pulled up to a nice, two-story house. I frowned as I noticed the woman sitting beside a pile of suitcases and trash bags on the sidewalk. When she saw I had come to a stop, she stood slowly. I threw the car in park, climbed out, popped the trunk, and rounded the front to her. At first glance, she looked timid. Her face was beautiful, but aside from that, I could see the puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Ms. Sinclaire? My name is Callum. I'll be your driver this evening."

"Hi..." she said just above a whisper. Her voice was raspy like she'd been crying for hours.

I pointed to the pile. "Is all of this yours?"

"Yes."

Asking that seemed to trigger her. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I wasn't sure what to do. Did I say something? Should I console her? I stepped forward and rested my hands on her shoulders to guide her to the car. No sooner than I opened the back door of the car did the front door of the house behind us open.

"You still here, Pasha?" a man asked angrily, stalking toward us.

I frowned. "She's leaving."

"Not fast enough."

He started grabbing her suitcases and throwing them into my open trunk.

"I'm leaving, Raymond!" she pleaded helplessly. "Just let me go in peace. You've embarrassed me enough."

"I told you thirty minutes."

He came back for another suitcase, but I snatched it from him.

"I can put her things in my car. Why don't you go back inside? That's as nice as I'm going to ask you."

He scoffed. "As nice as you're going to ask me? You're on my property giving demands?"

"It wasn't a demand. It was a very wise suggestion."

He poked my chest. "And what are you gonna do if I don't comply with your little ‘suggestion'?"

I looked back at Ms. Sinclaire. "Get in the car, baby."

She didn't hesitate to climb into the backseat. I closed the door and turned to see this man standing right up to me.

"Sir... I suggest you back up. Allow me to get Ms. Sinclaire's things, and we'll be on our way. If you want her gone, why hinder the process? Make it make sense."

He finally took a step back, glaring at me as he did. His gaze focused on the back window as I put the rest of her things in the trunk. Ms. Sinclaire was crying profusely at this point. This man had to be her husband or at least her boyfriend. Either way, he was a complete asshole, and I couldn't get her away from him quick enough. As I moved to close the trunk, I saw her reaching for the door handle.

"Ms. Sinclaire, he's not worth it," I tried to reason.

"You better not get outta that car, Pasha," he warned her.

She ignored both of our voices. She got out and walked around him and back toward the house.

"Pasha!" he yelled.

Again, she ignored him. Before I knew it, she'd picked up two bricks lining the walkway. She hurled one through the front window of the house and the other through the front window of the costly luxury car sitting in the driveway.

"Oh shit!" I grimaced as she picked up another brick and hurled it through the back window of that same car. At this point, the man I now knew as Raymond was yelling obscenities. He grabbed her, but she jerked away and slapped him.

"Fuck you, Raymond! I gave you eight years of my life! I was nothing but a good wife to you, and you did this to me. Rot in hell, you selfish son of a bitch!"

When a visibly pregnant woman came storming outside, putting two and two together didn't take long. Things were about to take another left.

"You need to leave!" she screamed.

"Oh, I'm leaving!" Mrs. Sinclaire screamed in return. "I wish I could say I feel sorry for you. You think you have one up on me now... You'll be just like me as soon as you can't cater to him the way he wants. Enjoy him while you can."

"I'll never be you. Not only do I know how to get and keep my man, but I can give him the one thing you can't."

She rubbed her belly with a satisfied smirk. I anticipated Mrs. Sinclaire's reaction, and before she could charge at the woman, I scooped her up and put her in the backseat. Discreetly, I put the child locks on to keep her from jumping out of the car again.

"Do not move," I said firmly. "Do you understand?"

Her beautiful face held a deep frown. It softened as tears pooled in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, and the next thing I knew, she fell against me, releasing a gut-retching cry. I wasn't the biggest fan of physical affection with strangers, yet this woman had an unnerving effect on me in the short time since I arrived.

"Get her away from here," Raymond demanded.

I ignored him as I continued to comfort his wife.

"You have to calm down so we can get outta here. I know this shit hurts, but he ain't worth it. Don't give him that kind of power over you."

"You hear me talking to you?"

Raymond grabbed my arm. Now, why did he do that? I didn't like people touching me, especially in an aggressive manner. I closed the back passenger door. Then with catlike reflexes, I spun around and twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him to the ground. The pregnant woman screamed at me to let him go.

"Let this be a warning... Don't ever put your hands on me. Now, as I previously stated, Mrs. Sinclaire is leaving. I trust that when I release you, you will show some decorum and take your disrespectful ass inside so she can leave in peace. Are we gonna have a problem?"

"Fuck you!" he seethed.

I twisted his arm tighter. One move, and I could snap it. If he knew what was good for him, he would heed my generous warning.

"I asked if we were going to have a problem," I repeated.

"No! Just let me go!"

I released him and took a step back. "Have a good evening."

Without another word, I retreated into the car and cranked up. As I pulled onto the road, I saw Raymond being consoled by his mistress in my rearview. I shook my head. I didn't know him, yet I could pin him as a weak-ass man with control issues. That woman might have thought she was getting a prize, but I had a feeling she would eventually learn that everything that glittered wasn't gold.

I'd been driving around aimlessly for a good fifteen minutes now, just waiting for Mrs. Sinclaire to calm down enough to tell me where to take her. I didn't want to rush her, especially after that fiasco. Every so often, I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. It gave me a chance to take in her natural beauty. If I had to guess, she was around five foot seven, a little on the thick side, which was absolutely fine by me. I loved a thick woman. A little belly, cellulite, or stretch marks never hurt anybody.

Her skin was cocoa-complexioned and blemish-free. Her full lips and beautiful brown eyes stuck out most to me. I always believed that the eyes were the windows to the soul. When she looked at me back at the house, I saw a soul that was drowning in pain. It was more than what she was going through at that moment. Pain like hers was deep-rooted.

Mrs. Sinclaire cried softly in the backseat. As I pulled to a stop sign, I looked back at her.

"Hey..." She slowly wiped her eyes and looked up at me. "Fuck him. I don't know the details, but from the looks of it, leaving is the best thing you could have done."

"I didn't leave... He put me out. He packed my things, and he put me out of my home. That... woman is his mistress. Excuse me, his fiancée." She began crying again. "How could I not have seen this coming? How could I have been so stupid? All the comments about my depression being too much... the constant jabs at my weight and appearance... the loneliness I've been feeling in this marriage for the longest. There were so many signs! I'm so embarrassed."

Her cries echoed in the car as I pulled away from the stop sign. The sight of her tears was doing something to me. She looked and felt helpless, and it was stabbing at my soul. Any other time, I would have canceled the service and refunded a client if they had too much drama during a reservation. My heart went out to this woman. Something about her just resonated with my spirit. I knew I couldn't leave her tonight without ensuring she was okay.

Her cries calmed down as I drove aimlessly through the city. Finally, they turned to light sniffles and whimpers. I'd been driving around at this point for thirty minutes.

"Is there anywhere I can take you?" I asked quietly.

She sniffed. "A hotel is fine. Whatever is close. I'm sure you're tired of me. I know this isn't what you signed up for."

I sighed. "It's not, but I'm in it now. I just wanna make sure you have somewhere safe to lay your head tonight."

She nodded. "Thank you. I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be sorry. I can tell you were blindsided. I don't know you or your story, but no woman deserves that from a man, least of all her husband."

"Are you married?"

I chuckled. "No, ma'am. I'm in these single streets."

"Oh."

She turned her head and looked out the window. We drove in silence until she spoke to point out a hotel. I pulled into the parking lot and up to the front entrance. While she went to grab a room, I grabbed a luggage cart and began unpacking the trunk. As I played Tetris, attempting to fit everything, she returned with a distressed look on her face.

"Put it back," she whispered.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

"He canceled my credit cards... I can't pay for the room, and I don't have enough cash to cover it."

Her lips trembled as she turned away from me. I felt anger surge through me at that moment. It was enough to make me wish I had broken that nigga's arm. What kind of man puts his wife out of their home and then proceeds to cut off her livelihood? Whoever that pregnant woman was must have had his nose wide open. She had to be out of her mind to sit and watch that happen and be okay, let alone feel secure.

Mrs. Sinclaire finally gathered herself. She turned to me with red eyes. Again, my heart broke for her.

"Is there anybody you can call?" I asked. "Parents... a friend?"

She shook her head. "My parents died in a car accident a few years ago. I haven't spoken to any friends in so long that I wouldn't feel right asking them for help. You can just take me to a shelter—"

"Absolutely not."

"Please, I'm begging—"

"Let's go inside. I've got you."

"No, no, you can't."

"Mrs. Sinclaire, I'm not leaving until I know you're safe. You don't know me, but I can be annoying as hell. That's the last thing you want. Now, let me help you."

I didn't wait for her to protest. Instead, I grabbed her hand and pulled her and the cart behind me as I headed for the front desk.

"Good evening. My friend here needs a room. What do we need to do to make that happen?"

The receptionist ran me the pricing while Mrs. Sinclaire stood off to the side, looking embarrassed. There was no need for her to feel embarrassed with me, but I understood. If I were in her shoes, I would feel ashamed too. After paying for the room, I led her to the elevator. The ride to the fifth floor was quiet. The walk to the room was quiet, and it was quiet as I unloaded the cart. She seemed to be searching for the right words to say whenever my gaze met hers. Once the last bag hit the floor, she finally approached me.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do. You didn't have to do this, yet you did. I promise I will pay you back once I get on my feet." She whipped out her phone. "Give me your number."

"Mrs. Sinclaire."

"Please? Allow me to retain what little dignity I have left."

I sighed as I took her phone and programmed my number in it before handing it back to her.

"The room is yours for two weeks," I said, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. Flipping it open, I pulled out all the cash I had on me, about $600, and handed it to her. "In case you need anything."

"I can't... You've done enough."

She wouldn't take the money from me, so I walked over to the nightstand beside the bed and set it there. I would call here in two weeks to see if she checked out. If she hadn't, I would just cover another two weeks. I didn't share that with her, though. She was going through enough. I just wanted to lift a burden from her.

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Get you some rest, Mrs. Sinclaire."

"Please, call me Pasha."

"Pasha... take care."

"Thank you." She pulled me into a strong, warm hug. "God bless you."

She kissed my cheek before letting me go, and I walked out the door. I didn't know what it was about her, but I felt I'd be seeing her again. Maybe sooner than I thought.