Page 96 of While You're There
“Give me his keys,” Fielding instructed. Dempsey handed over the keys without question before circling back around the bar.
“I’ve gotta finish closing. Just holler if you need help,” one of the men said to the other.
Help with what?
Rhett still didn’t have all the rules figured out, so he stayed quiet.
Fielding stood a few feet away, his stance wide. He twirled a set of car keys obnoxiously on his finger before he finally let out an exasperated sigh. Rhett could barely hold in an eye roll at the other man’s dramatics. It was like everything this fucker did was designed to piss him off.
“Come on, Wheeler. Let’s get you home.”
Rhett let out a low chuckle. As if he wouldevertake orders from fucking Fielding Haas.
Fielding snarled at his dismissiveness. Rhett watched intently as the other man showed his cards, each emotion marring his features: disgust. Frustration. Hatred. Then, finally, resolve.
A cool, almost cruel mask slipped over Fielding’s face.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be in the morning?” he taunted as he took a few measured steps to the front door. He was walking backwards, watching Rhett like he knew something he didn’t.
Rhett knew it was a ploy, all part of the game. He recognized that in the logical part of his brain. But that didn’t stop him from rising from the bar stool and stalking toward the other man.
He made it all the way to the door before Fielding smirked like he had the upper hand. That just pissed him off. Rhett moved to shove through the door, pushing into Fielding’s chest to get out of the bar. Fielding let him push him, taking several steps back until he was pressed up against the brick wall of the narrow alley that separated Clinton’s and The Oak.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rhett growled as the other man’s back hit the wall.
“No,youdon’t know what you’re talking about. Tori’s egg retrieval is first thing in the morning, you asshat. Where is she right now, Wheeler? Do you even know?”
Rhett balled his hands into fists at his sides. He could feel the strain in his knuckles as they itched to strike. All the stress and anger he’d been holding in for the last few weeks was coming together now. He could feel the energy radiating through his upper body, pain and grief and so much sorrow stitched together into a cloak of hatred.
“You’re out here getting shitfaced, and she’s home alone, hormonal and fucking miserable,” Fielding informed him with a disgusted look on his face. “Some husband,” he added for emphasis, pulling the trigger and giving Rhett the opening he’d been waiting to take.
His arm shot out on its own volition. What should have been a perfect jab strayed left. His fist just barely grazed Fielding’s face.
The other man reacted so quickly Rhett didn’t realize their positions had been reversed. Fielding checked him into the wall and held him there, pressing all the air out of his lungs.
Fuck.He had forgotten Haas had played hockey. He’d been on defense. An enforcer.
Rhett tried to land an uppercut, but that didn’t work either. His brain automatically switched to defense. He raised his fists toward his face, steadying himself and preparing to block whatever came next.
Fielding’s hands didn’t stray from Rhett’s shoulders, though, instead shoving him harder into the solid bricks of the alley. Haas was only an inch taller, so they were standing nose to nose. His face was so close Rhett could feel his breath each time he exhaled.
Fielding let out a quiet chortle as he stared him down. “Why are your hands up like that? I’m not going to hit you. I wouldn’t fucking dare. What would she think of me if I knocked out her husband?” he taunted.
“Don’t talk about her! You don’t know anything about her! You’ve only been hanging around for a few months, you stupid fucker. You don’t get to talk about her like you know her.” Rhett’s breathing was out of control, adrenaline burning through him.
“Time isn’t always relevant.” Fielding shrugged. “When you have a real connection with somebody…” He smirked as he let his words linger. “You want to know how I know she’s home alone right now, Wheeler?” He didn’t give Rhett a chance to answer before he continued. “I dropped her off a few hours ago. She wanted to leave Jake’s early tonight to be with you.”
The confession hit harder than any physical blow Fielding could have landed. Tori was at home waiting for him. Tori had been home for hours, waiting for him, while he was at the bar, waiting for who knows what.
“You’re pathetic, you know that? It’s one thing if you’re in Virginia and can’t be with her. But to be here, in Hampton? To not want to spend every fucking minute with her when you’re home? Do you know how upset she’s been these last few weeks without you here? She’s gone to all these appointments alone. She’s done all this egg retrieval bullshit by herself. Ever since you two came back from your honeymoon, it’s like you don’t give a shit about her. You fucking trapped her. You’ve totally checked out.”
Rhett had stopped fighting against Fielding’s hold. He relished the feeling of the bricks pushing through his shirt and scraping against his back. Between the pain in his body and the sting of Fielding’s words, it almost felt like enough. It almost felt like what he deserved. But his ego wouldn’t allow him to not respond to the other man’s monologue.
“Fuck you,” Rhett spat out. “You don’t get to talk about my marriage. I could say the word, and she would never speak to you again,” he threatened.Was that actually true?He didn’t know anymore. But it was worth the risk to vocalize the idea if it knocked Fielding down a few pegs.
The other man took two steps back so Rhett could clearly see his face before he responded, “You could try.” He smirked, calling Rhett on his bullshit.
Fielding ran his hand along the side of his face, smoothing over the spot where Rhett had attempted to punch him. “You know, the more I think about it, you don’t deserve to go home and sleep next to her tonight. What’s she going to think when she finally gives up on you coming home and falls asleep alone? I wonder if she’ll even be surprised…”
