Chapter 6

"Look, Red, I don't want to have to do this, but wouldn't it be a shame if the feds found out about your immigration status? Going out with me would be so much easier."

That's how I ended up straightening my hair on a Friday night. I put on some make up and slipped on some jeans and a sweater. How did he expect me to enjoy myself if everything he had me do was through blackmail? Maybe I wasn't supposed to enjoy myself. Maybe it was all for his pleasure.

Wouldn't have surprised me.

At seven sharp, there was a knock on my door. I slipped on my flats with shaky hands and opened the door.

I don't know why I expected him to be in a uniform, because I had seen him in casual clothing before, but I was shocked to see him in tight black skinny jeans and a black button up shirt standing in my doorway. He smiled at me.

"Hiya Red. Can I come in?" He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I flinched back a little, but he pretended not to notice.

"I'm all ready." I told him, not wanting to invite him into my home. He hummed in surprise.

"You're the first girl I've taken out who's been on time." I didn't know what that comment implied. Was he trying to say that he took out a lot of girls? Or was he trying to say that I should've taken longer to get ready? Did I not look ok?

He attempted to take my hand in his as we were leaving, but I pretended to be busy looking for my phone in my purse, even though I could see it sitting in one of the side pockets. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea because it was actually the last place I wanted to be- on a date with him.

"Where are you going?" I heard Caleb's amused voice call to me. I hadn't even realized he had stopped walking until he yelled to me. I turned around to find him standing next to an expensive looking car. He had the passenger door open for me expectantly. I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment and I awkwardly shuffled back over to him.

He offered me a hand to help me slide into the car, but I pretended not to see it. He slammed the car door loudly to show he wasn't happy with my rejection, for the second time in less than five minutes I ignored his chivalrous attempts.

I held my breath as I watched him make his way around the hood of the car. When he got in, he turned the car on in our awkward silence. The Rolling Stones started to play from the radio and he pulled away from the curb aggressively.

"I'm taking you out, can you at least pretend like I'm not pulling your teeth, please?" He snarled without looking at me, keeping his eyes on the road. I gulped nervously and looked out the window.

"Are you going to deport me if I don't?" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" He snapped.

"Nothing." I was quick to diffuse the situation. I didn't know if he had heard me or if he was truly asking me what I had said, but the issue was dropped after that. We pulled up in front of a cute restaurant that looked borderline expensive. I wasn't planning on spending too much money that night, but I had my credit card with me just in case.

I got out of the car and shut my door just as he was coming around. He looked at me with an unhappy, almost scolding expression, as if I had just done something wrong. If I had done something, I didn't know what it was, so I pretended not to notice him. I walked ahead of him to the restaurant and opened the door for myself. Caleb caught the door behind me with a sour puss on his face.

I had done something else wrong. If he didn't tell me what I was doing to piss him off, how could I change my behavior to please him?

"Reservation for Scott." Caleb spoke to the hostess once we came in. She nodded quickly and skimmed down the list.

"Right this way please," we followed the hostess, Caleb insisting that I go first, his hand on my lower back. I wasn't comfortable with him touching me at all, but I didn't say a thing about it. I figured the night was too early to piss him off again.

I sat down at the table gestured for us, and looked up to see Caleb watching me, his mouth set in a frown. The hostess set our menus down on the table and walked away, but Caleb didn't sit down yet. He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at me. He was upset about something, that much was clear. Whatever it was, though, he just shook his head and sat down across from me.

"How long have you been in London?" He asked me after we put in our drink orders.

"Six or seven months." I answered politely. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. I heard him cluck his tongue, but he didn't say anything immediately.

"Sophia said you came over as soon as you turned eighteen." He continued.

"Um, yes, the day after." I took a sip of my iced tea.

"So you're still just eighteen?"

"Yeah..." I trailed off awkwardly. I didn't quite know where he was going with it, but I didn't dare question him.

"Jesus Christ. You're a baby." He pinched the bridge of his nose. I felt awkward just sitting there, waiting for him to tell me what was going on. "Did you come here because of the drinking age in the States?"

I wasn't completely offended by his question, because I had heard it before. When I first came to London, that's what people assumed. I had to agree with them, it did seem suspicious that I uprooted everything as soon as I could legally drink in a different country.

"Of course not."

"Then why did you come here? Why not go to school like everyone else?" He pressed. Thankfully, at that moment, the waitress came over. As soon as we ordered, though, his intense green eyes were focused back on me. "Answer my question."

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, so please don't take this the wrong way, but that's very personal." I put my shield up quickly. To be honest, for a while it was my plan to go to college, because school was something I was actually pretty good at. But after my grandma Irene died, there was nothing holding me to the U.S and I had to get out of there. I'd get my college degree eventually, but at that point, I needed to just take care of myself.

"Fair enough." He quipped, surprising me by not pushing the matter.

"Umm, why did you want to be a cop?" I asked him. I expected him to say something about how he likes the idea of saving people, or he wants to make a difference or something, but I forgot who I was dealing with. The same guy who sexually harassed an innocent person.

"I'm not going to talk about that, love." He said darkly. I bit my lip at the sudden harsh tone and figured that I hit a nerve. Maybe it had something to do with how his Dad was the chief of police.

The waitress came back with our food then, saving me from an awkward silence. I felt like me asking about his profession put him in a foul mood, and I wasn't quite sure what to say about it. I started eating immediately, just so I wouldn't have to talk. He did the cliché thing and asked me about my food, which was very good, and then I asked him about his.

He dropped the bad attitude and eased us back into conversation about my work. And then the topic changed to Marcus and Sophia. And then to some crazy things he and his partner had seen on the job. He had really funny stories which kept me entertained for the rest of the night.

The next thing I knew, Caleb was being handed the check. I reached into my purse and pulled out my wallet. I didn't know how I was going to handle the paying situation since I only had my credit card on me, but I figured we'd work it out.

"What the hell are you doing?" I glanced up to see Caleb glaring at me. He shifted his eyes back and forth between my face and the wallet in my hand, so I understood what he was talking about.

"I'm getting my money out." I mumbled, feeling uncomfortable under his glare. He furrowed his brows in confusion, but his eyes flashed with a quick spurt of anger.

"Put that away, I'm paying." He snapped, almost as if he was offended by my actions. Was I not supposed to pay? I knew that in romance novels and romantic comedies the guy always paid on the date, but I didn't think that was real. I mean, my life was as far from a rom-com as possible.

"Oh, umm... thanks." I slipped my wallet back in my purse and stared down at my hands. I hoped the bill wasn't too much or anything, but then again, he forced me on the date so screw him.

"It's like you've never been on a fucking date before." He muttered to himself. I knew I was supposed to hear it, but I think it was more of a rhetorical statement.

"Well, I haven't, so..." I shrugged. I grabbed my bag and my jacket and stood from the table, expecting the matter to be dropped. But it wasn't.

"Bullshit." He said from behind me as I started to leave the restaurant. I chose not to answer him, but that didn't mean he was letting the subject go. "Red, you're bloody fit, don't tell me you've never been on a date."

"Well, I haven't. Ok?"

I didn't understand what the big deal was. Not everyone dates in high school.

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" I was beginning to get frustrated with him. He was making me feel like a loser because I've never been out with a guy before. I felt my cheeks tingle at the heat from my blushing.

"No wonder you've been pissing me off all night, you didn't know any better!" He stopped me as we reached the door by catching my wrist in his large hand. I didn't know what he meant by me pissing him off all night, but I didn't choose to ask him about it.

He told me anyways.

"You let me hold your hand. You take my hand so I can help you into my car. When you're in my car, you wait until I walk around and open the door for you to get out. You let me hold doors open for you. And you wait to sit until I pull out the chair. It's like common date etiquette, Red." He looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen on him before. Almost... fondly?

"That all seems stupid." I muttered. As if to prove his point, he held the door for me on the way out. I huffed in annoyance, but he only grinned at me.

"I'll instill it in your thick skull, don't you worry." When I reached the car, he grabbed my arm again and held me back so he could open the door for me. I moved to climb inside, but he didn't let go of me.

"Oh sorry, I forgot." I blushed an even deeper red as he motioned for me to take his hand. He helped me into the car and shut the door.

"I've been opening my own doors my whole life, I can do it myself." I muttered when he got into his side of the car.

"Too fucking bad, you're with me now and we're doing it my way." The ride home seemed quicker than the ride to the restaurant had been. In no time, we were pulling up in front of my apartment. I looked at him as we stopped. I was supposed to wait, right?

He came around and opened my door for me, and held out a hand to help me out. The whole process seemed annoying because I had no problems climbing out of the car on my own, and opening a door wasn't rocket science.

"Well, thanks for dinner."

"I'm going to walk you up to your room." He insisted, not letting go of my hand even if I tried to pull away. I was led upstairs, in the shadow of his tall figure. And when he paused outside of my door, I was afraid of what he was going to try to do.

"Goodnight." I said awkwardly. He shook his head at me, like I was doing something wrong again.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked. I kind of just stood there as he asked me that. What was I supposed to say? No, I did not want him to kiss me. But I knew that regardless of my answer, he'd do whatever the frick he wanted because he was blackmailing me. His green eyes regarded me earnestly, as if I actually had a choice in the matter.

"I don't want you to," I said quietly, testing the waters to gage his reaction at rejection.

"I thought we had a nice time tonight." He said slightly bitterly, but his voice didn't contain the anger I was expecting.

"I mean, most of it was nice."

"What parts weren't nice?"

"Caleb..." I sighed, "please don't do this. If you want to kiss me, go ahead, you're going to anyways." I fiddled with the strap on my purse to avoid looking up at him. Also, craning my neck just to make eye contact was hardly worth it if all I was receiving in return was a glare.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" A large hand shot out and grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look up at him as if I were a child. I didn't answer him, though. He knew exactly what I meant.

"You've kissed me before, why the hell is it such a chore, now?" He growled at me. I blinked back tears, and instantly felt the burning sensation of hot sauce. Even though my mother wasn't with me, I guess I had been so exposed to her abuse that every time I felt like crying, my brain automatically made the connection to hot sauce.

"It was a chore then, too."

"Is that why you fucking slapped me? Because you didn't like how I kissed you?" I was thankful he wasn't shouting at me. I didn't want my neighbors to hear and have them getting involved, too. Still, his tone was so harsh that his words almost physically hurt.

"I slapped you because you're taking advantage of me and because you made my first kiss a horrible experience!" I pushed his hand away and started fishing in my bag for the key. I didn't care what his game was, or what he was trying to do, but I just had to get out of there. Things were becoming too heated, so I had to do what I did best and run. I felt the cool metal between my fingertips and pulled my key out of my purse.

"That was your first kiss?" He asked me, his voice significantly quieter and softer than it had been not a minute before. I shoved the key in the lock and opened my door.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I'd never been on a date before. Boys weren't my biggest concern in high school." Avoiding getting a beating from my parents was, but I would never tell him that.

Before he could respond, I slammed the door shut.

I almost expected him to start banging on the door, possibly break it down, but he didn't. When I check out of my peephole into the hall, there was no one in sight, especially not a tall, out-of-uniform police officer.