Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) (2 page)

I froze.

Carl stormed over to the booth I sat in, glaring at me.  Then he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Angie seated across from me.  He scowled, looking absolutely furious.  “What the hell is she doing here?” he demanded, his nostrils flaring.  His tone was so gruff that the baby woke up and, startled, began to cry.

“Oh get over yourself you big oaf,” Angie spat, pushing past Carl to lift her wailing daughter from the stroller.  “Nobody’s impressed by your pathetic tough guy act, by the way.  It makes you sound even dumber than you are which, believe me, is
quite
a feat.”

“Get the hell out of my diner and don’t come back,” Carl growled.

“Carl,” I protested, standing up.  “This isn’t necessary.”

“Shut up,” he snarled without even glancing at me.

Angie’s lips were pursed and she looked upset.  “Come with me,” she practically begged me.

“She’s working,” Carl interjected.

“You don’t own her,” Angie shot back.  “Hayley can speak for herself.”  Then, addressing me again, she said, “I mean it.  Come with me.  Let’s get out of here.  You can come to my cousin’s place with me – I’m sure she won’t mind.”

I looked from Carl to Angie and back again, torn.  Deep down, I knew that my relationship with Carl wasn’t a healthy one.  He’d never hit me or anything, but he didn’t exactly treat me like a lover should, either.  He never had, but that was just his way. 

And after he’d saved me, well, I felt like I owed him.

“I’m still on the clock,” I told Angie apologetically.  “I’m sorry.  It was really great seeing you.”

Angie looked like she wanted to say more, but when Carl took a menacing step toward her she seemed to think better of it.  Protectively cradling her daughter’s head, she took a step back.  Her eyes silently pleaded with me. 

“It’s okay,” I assured her, forcing a smile.  “Things got out of hand here, but everything is fine.  I’m really glad I finally got to meet your little girl – she’s adorable.  And it was wonderful finally getting to catch up with you!  Have a great visit with your cousin, Angie.”

“Hayley, don’t do this,” she tried again.

“Get out,” Carl growled, grabbing the empty stroller and practically chasing Angie out the door with it.  His anger was palpable.  He tossed the stroller out onto the street violently before exchanging a few final, heated words with the only friend I had left in the world.

I wasn’t certain but I thought I saw her spit on him before storming away, baby in tow.

Carl shook his fist after them, looking every bit the part of an out of control, raging lunatic.

Seeing the way my boyfriend interacted with Angie was always a slap in the face.  He wasn’t normally like that around other people.  He kept up a carefully constructed facade around town, always mindful of his professional reputation.  It was, after all, what kept him in business.

Angie swore the customers came back because of me and not him. 

She also swore that Carl was bad news, a ticking bomb waiting to go off.  She worried that I would be caught in the crossfire when he finally exploded.  I appreciated her concern and knew it came from a place of caring.  But I also thought she was overreacting. 

I had known violence and abuse.  Carl was nothing like my stepfather, and thank God for that.

Carl had been the one who put a roof over my head, making it feasible for me to move out of a very dysfunctional family home at seventeen.  He had been my knight in shining armor, the only person who had thrown me a life preserver when I was drowning. 

For that, I owed him everything.

My boyfriend was back inside the diner now, and stomping over to me.  His face was red and sweaty.  I could practically see steam coming out of his ears as he breathed heavily, reminding me of a caged bull that was growing more infuriated by the second. 

“What did I always tell you?” he raged, still seething about his run in with Angie.  “That stupid bitch is bad news!  I don’t want you seeing her anymore, understand?  No good can possibly come of it.”

I kept my head down and bit my lip, busying myself with refilling the salt and pepper shakers on the tables.  I knew from experience that when Carl went off on one of his tirades, there was no point in arguing with him.  All I could do was stay out of his way and wait for him to calm down.

But Carl was miles away from calming down.  Instead, he only seemed to become increasingly agitated – and his irritation was focused on me.  His nostrils flared as he followed me around from table to table, and I could practically feel his anger coming off of him in waves.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” he ranted as I went about my busywork.  “Is this how it’s going to be now?  You lose weight and suddenly you think you’re too good for me?  I don’t like your attitude.  At least when you were a fat cow you didn’t dress all slutty.”

My jaw dropped at his cruel words.  He’d been a jerk to me plenty of times before, but this particular insult of his was a new and unexpected one.  “Slutty?” I repeated, aghast.  What, exactly, was slutty about my crisp white blouse and fitted black slacks? 

Carl’s words were like a knife through the heart.  He had no idea how far I had gone to lose weight once I’d finally had enough of his constant ridicule and fat-shaming.  To think that he didn’t even appreciate my efforts was beyond disappointing.  And to know that he was trying to hurt me with his words was devastating.

“What’s your face all painted up for anyway, huh?” he sneered, examining my carefully applied makeup with disdain.  “Who the hell are you trying to impress?  You look like a cheap whore.”

Blinking back my tears, I self-consciously swiped the back of my hand across my mouth to wipe away my peach colored lipstick.  When I had gotten ready for work that morning, I had felt so optimistic.  I had purchased the makeup after receiving an especially generous tip from a table of friendly truck drivers, and I had been excited to surprise Carl with it.

I had foolishly expected him to think I looked pretty.

For a brief moment that morning, I had even felt pretty.

But Carl had barely even looked at me before I’d left for work.  He had still been in bed with a pillow over his head, muttering angrily that I made too much noise as I tiptoed around our bedroom trying to find my clothes in the darkness.

All my efforts had been a waste of time and money.  Worse yet, they had angered him.

Laughing cruelly, my boyfriend continued to follow me around the diner.  “You look like a stripper!” he chortled as he tossed a one dollar bill at me, hitting me squarely in the face with it.  “Is that what you wanted people to say when you painted yourself up like a whore?  Is it?”

“Stop it!” I finally exploded when I couldn’t take any more.  “Just stop it, okay?”

“You don’t
ever
tell me what to do, you got that?” he snarled angrily, his laughter immediately coming to a halt.  “I gave you everything you have!  I took you in when your own family didn’t even want you.  If it wasn’t for me you’d be living on the streets!  Don’t ever forget!”

How could I forget when he reminded me of it at every possible opportunity?

Suddenly the stranger at the back of the diner cleared his throat loudly and deliberately.  I had all but forgotten he was there, and judging by the shell-shocked look on Carl’s face, he’d had no idea that we weren’t alone.  As the stranger stood up, his unwavering gaze fixed on Carl, my boyfriend rushed toward him.

“I’m really sorry we interrupted your meal with our...private matter,” Carl told him, chuckling sheepishly as though the exchange had been nothing more than fun and games.  “Your meal is on the house buddy.”

“Why don’t you tell her that,” the stranger replied, nodding toward me.

“Huh?” Carl asked, not following.

“You said you’re really sorry,” the stranger reminded him, his dislike of Carl evident.  “It’s not me you need to apologize to; it’s not me you were harassing.  So go on, tell her you’re sorry for being such a dick.”

“Hey, where do you get off telling me how to talk to my woman?” Carl shot back, irritated. 

“Your woman?” the stranger repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s right,” Carl replied, clenching his fists at his side as the vein in his big beefy neck bulged.  “This is my diner, buddy.  I don’t give a shit if you’re a paying customer or not, you don’t get to come in here telling me how to talk, got it?”

Unfazed by Carl’s anger, the stranger calmly produced a hundred dollar bill from his pocket.  He took a step toward me and extended his hand, holding it out to me. 

“Your tip,” he said.  His tone was kinder when he spoke to me – gentle, even.  He was probably taking pity on me, I reasoned.  He probably thought I was some spineless pushover who had no self-respect.

Deeply embarrassed by everything that was going on I reluctantly took the money from him, my eyes downcast.  “Thank you,” I said, not even fully comprehending how much he had given me.  All I could focus on was the fact that I wanted to crawl under a table and disappear!

“Give me that,” Carl ordered, snatching the money out of my hand.

The stranger’s fist came out of nowhere, landing with a dull thud squarely on Carl’s jaw.  My boyfriend stumbled backwards before tripping over a chair and crashing gracelessly to the floor.  The stranger leaned forward, plucked the hundred dollar bill from Carl’s hand and gave it back to me. 

Stunned by what I’d witnessed, I took a tentative step toward my boyfriend.  He was out cold, a trickle of blood seeping from his nose.  He was probably going to have a fat lip in the morning.  A little voice in the back of my head – one that sounded an awful lot like my friend Angie, come to think of it – wryly observed that the fat lip would match Carl’s fat head.

“Come on,” the stranger said to me, jerking his head toward the door.  “Let’s go.”

“But I can’t leave Carl...” I protested, hesitating.

“If you don’t mind me saying so, you probably should have left this moron a long time ago,” the stranger told me.  “He’ll be fine.  Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

The stranger could have been a rapist or serial killer, for all I knew.  But in that moment, as I looked from him to Carl and weighed my options, I realized I would rather take a chance on the unknown than endure the familiar.  So I untied my apron, tossed it onto the closest table and flipped the sign on the door to read “Closed.” 

Then I allowed the mysterious, good looking man in the ball cap to lead me out of the diner.

Chapter 02

“Where’s your car?” the stranger asked, surveying the parking lot. 

Biting my lower lip apprehensively, I admitted, “I don’t have one.” 

Unless Carl drove me, I walked to work.  He said we didn’t need two vehicles, and back when I had been overweight he had constantly reminded me I could use the exercise. 

I had chosen to believe he simply cared about my well-being, although deep down I knew Angie had a point when she told me Carl was trying to control me.  Truthfully, he didn’t really like me to go anywhere except work without him.

“That’s okay, I can give you a ride home,” the stranger told me.  Then, perhaps sensing my hesitation, he tried to put me at ease by introducing himself.  “I’m Brandon, by the way.”

“Hayley,” I managed to reply.

“Well Hayley, this is my car right here,” he told me, gesturing to a sleek black sports car.  He opened the passenger door for me, something Carl had never, ever done in all our time together.  “Hop in.”

As Brandon walked around to the driver’s side of the car, I pulled down the visor mirror.  I barely recognized the woman staring back at me, her eyes wide, her skin pale and her fiery red hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders.  Was that really me?  Was this really my life?

“Where am I going?” Brandon asked as he climbed into the car next to me and stuck the key in the ignition.  “I’m not from around here so you’ll probably have to direct me,” he cautioned.  I suspected he was trying to make small talk solely for my benefit, to help calm my frazzled nerves.  I appreciated the effort, but it wasn’t working.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“You don’t know?”  Brandon asked as he looked over at me to make sure he had heard correctly.

“I can’t go home...Carl is going to be
pissed
and I just can’t face it tonight.” 

It wasn’t until I said the words out loud that I realized how tired I was of walking on eggshells around my boyfriend.  When had that become normal?  Why had I
allowed
it to become normal?  Suddenly I was filled with regret.

“Okay, well what about a friend’s place?” Brandon suggested gently.

I shook my head.  The truth was I really didn’t have many friends because Carl usually found some reason to disapprove of everyone in my life.  Little by little, he had isolated me.  Now that Angie had moved away, I was completely alone in the world but for him.  It was precisely what he had wanted.

Angie had been right all along.  Why had it taken me so long to see it, to admit it?  Had I really needed to view my situation through a complete stranger’s eyes to recognize how twisted it was?