The Ruthless Caleb Wilde

Holy hell!

Somebody opened the service door, stepped back fast and let it swing shut. Elapsed time, maybe three seconds … but long enough for him to see everything he needed.

The door didn’t lead to the kitchen. It led to some kind of big, dimly lit closet. A storage area, probably.

Inside, the blonde waitress was pinned against a wall, struggling against a man who towered over her.

Caleb ran to the door. Shoved it open. Said something hard and loud and absolutely ugly.

The man swung toward him.

“What the hell do you want?” he snarled. “This is none of your business. Go on, get the eff out of here!”

Caleb looked at the woman. Her eyes were enormous, her face pale despite the heavy layers of makeup. One strap of her dress was torn and the bodice was falling down.

“Are you all right?”

“He was going to—” Her voice broke. “He was going to—”

“Hey, pal. You deaf? I told you to get the eff out of—”

The man was just about Caleb’s size. He had a muscled body, same as Caleb.

But there was a difference.

One of them was all lust and ego.

The other was all righteous rage.

Caleb went straight at him.

It didn’t take very long. A couple of quick rights, a left to the gut and the son of a bitch staggered and clutched his belly.

“I was just having some fun,” he said.

Caleb’s smile was all teeth.

“So am I,” he said, and hit him one last time.

That was the blow that did it. The guy fell back, hit the wall and went down it, slow and easy, until he lay right where he belonged.

On the floor, at the waitress’s feet.

Caleb looked at him, wiped his hands on his trousers, then looked at the woman. She was even paler than she’d been moments ago.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Her eyes flew to his.

“It’s okay,” he said.

He saw her throat constrict as she swallowed.

“He’s—he’s been after me all night.”

The words were a rusty whisper. She was starting to tremble. Caleb cursed softly, stripped off his suit coat and held it toward her.

“Put this on.”