I missed you all. Thanks for being patient... X
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Katrina Diaz
If Hayden thought stopping me from getting an internship will take the art out of my blood, then he couldn't be more wrong. Like a bee allured by the scent of honey, I had found myself in a museum, eager to take a look, admire or gaze at the artworks. The entrance to the hall was itself so artistically designed and the building was surrounded by beautiful rose gardens and fountains. Each person was there for their own individual purposes, but I found myself gravitating into a familiar world of painting that told mental health stories. In a room full of art, they were always the loudest. And for someone with a keen eye, they told the viewer more about their backstory than about the artist's finesse.
It was when I was admiring an art that conveyed anxiety, depressive thoughts, a tornado of darkness and numbness, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"How are you, Miss Diaz?"
A smile split my face when I recognised the voice. The chances of a passed out student smiling at their head misters were less. And the chances of the headmistress greeting their pupil were even less. Fortunately for me, Mrs Lee and I had a very easy relationship.
In fact, we have the best student-teacher relationship. Gladys Lee, my headmistress from school, was the most supportive teacher I had ever met. She stood behind me with an amiable smile on her face. She was a little woman. She was dressed in a black dress and red pumps. A pearl necklace adorned her neck, a pair of spectacles sat on her nose, a bag clasped in her right hand. Her skin was very pale, and her short black hair was styled in curls.
After greetings, Mrs Lee asked, "So, have you taken up any internship?"
This was the woman who had pulled a few ties and had made me get another copy of my letter of acceptance when my mum had deleted the emails and burned my letters, which had come in the mail the first time. And I didn't have the heart to tell her what a failure I had made of myself with all the family drama.
"I didn't get it. The Evans Animations are very picky and well, there are better students than me," I lied, mustering up a sad smile.
A frown settled on Mrs Lee's face. "Don't be disheartened." Pulling a card out of her purse, she handed it to me. "This is my acquaintance's contact. Contact him and he'll guide you through the internship at Quixotic Animation Studios."
Quixotic Animation Studios was a British animation studio that created animated features and short films. It wasn't the top tier Animation Studios like Evans Animation. But it was better to do something than sit idle.
"Thank you, Mrs Lee. I'll contact them..." I flashed a grateful smile.
______________
Despite my last-minute submission, the HR had scheduled my interview today and assured me I could expect their reply within three days.
Hayden could kiss my ass.
"I'm afraid I can't give you a ride, lass." A masculine voice pulled me back from my happy thoughts. My eyes swung to the driver, who was staring at me through the window, giving me a sympathetic smile. "I'll have to take this to a mechanic."
Oh, no.
Blowing a puff of air, I climbed down from the car and gave the cab driver his fare, my nerves a little jittery, my stomach growling with hunger. Spending all day at the studio wasn't my best decision. Maybe I should have taken a cab back home when the clock had ticked seven pm. Instead, I had gone to an art gallery and finally ended up on the streets of Croydon. A rather secluded street, if I might add.
Fuck, Kate!
When my phone pinged in my sling bag, I pulled it out, walking mindlessly as I answered the call, "Hello?"
"Kate!?" Saoirse's voice boomed from the phone. "It is quarter-to-eleven. Where are you?"
Although her tone was admonishing, I couldn't deny the concern underlining her words. Not used to being so cared for by my sister, I felt my heart warm. "Croydon. The taxi broke down. I'll catch another one soon-"
"Croydon?" She sounded anxious. "Share me your location. I'll send you a ride."
"Alright. Thanks."
Terminating the call, I sent her my location and groaned when my eyes fell on the batter: 3%. Could my life be any more miserable? How long should I wait on these roads?
Spotting a bench on the corner of the street, I perched down on it, hands turning clammy, my nerves knotting. The sky above me was a pitch dark canvas, not a single star twinkling in it. June breeze rustled the hedges and trees before brushing my skin, awakening goosebumps from their slumber on my skin. The desolate street I ended up in screamed danger, a single dim street lamp casting light over a road which seemed to extend into endless darkness.
Producing my sketchbook, a pencil and an eraser from my bag, I started sketching the house that sat opposite me, taking my mind off my ominous surroundings and the time.
Relief sang through my veins when bright headlights blind my vision before a car halted in my vicinity. The backdoor flew open, revealing a very relaxed Hayden, who was working on his phone. His strikingly green eyes locked with mine.
"Get in," he ordered, his velvety voice beckoning me.
Ease was chased away by anger. Anger for firing me for no good reason. Slinging my bag over my shoulder and gripping the sketchbook harder in my hands, I scoffed. "Fuck you!"
His eyes flared.
I didn't need his bloody help. I would rather stay on this miserable road than get in his car.
Jerking my chin, I strolled away from him, leaving his car door unlocked. My feet set into a sprint when Hayden climbed down from the car. Body charged with adrenaline, lungs burning for air, I ran as my life depended on this sprint as Hayden's footfalls followed mine.
"Katrina!" His velvety voice reached my ears, his tone as calm and insouciant as always.
Fuck him!
Pain shot through my limbs and I felt my trainers slip against something before my body lost its composure and I was pulled down by gravity. A pair of rough hands gripped my shoulder from falling and another hand clutched my hips.
I sucked in a harsh breath, gazing at the bearded stranger. "Thank you."
Composing myself, I attempted to take a step back. It was a futile attempt because the stranger's grip on me tightened. A rotten stench surrounded him. "I don't want a thank you, bird. Perhaps you could give me a taste of you instead."
My stomach dropped.
"And this arse is mine." Another voice slurred behind me. Only then did it occur to me that the hand on my hip belonged to the drunkard behind me. I was trapped behind these drunk, horny men.
Oh, no.
"Katrina..." Hayden's voice echoed around us.
Great, now I had to deal with three men.
"Is he your boyfriend, bird?" The stranger's breath had my nose twisting with discomfort.
Squirming in his hold, I growled, "No! Let me-"
"Bugger off, mate." The man behind me sniggered, grinding his hardness into my bum. Guts twisting with disgust, I wiggled harder and kneed the man in front of me in his balls. Face twisting with pain, he let go of me and clutched his manhood, freezing the grip on my shoulders. Another rough hand wrapped around my chest, the rotten smell and unwanted touch sending a wave of nausea to my throat and tears to my eyes.
A shadowy figure loomed over my head, the glow from the streetlights casting an alarming glow on his chiselled face. His strong hands wrenched the ones holding me hostage against my will. Hands that slid a ring on my wrist. Hands that played my body with mastery.
Hayden is here. Oh, shit.
Relief like no other flooded my veins, and I shuffled on shaky legs, able to breathe freely for once in the past few dreadful seconds.
"What the fuck do you want, bastard?" The drunkard stranger yelled, face red with rage as he struggled to free his fists from Hayden's grip.
"It appears you put your hands on my wife." The words were laced with such cruel coldness that I could practically hear the chaos in his head even if his countenance remained calm. The verdict echoing in his next words sent a shiver down my neck. "And touching my wife without her consent has its retribution."
Silence rippled around us. Hayden's face grew colder and harder as he twisted the stranger's hand in his hold, twining the fingers in a bizarre move. Somehow, he grabbed the pressure point of the stranger's hand in his hold and applied pressure on it. The cracking sound of bone breaking sent chills skittering down my back.
Holy. Crap.
The stranger started howling as Hayden let go of the fractured hand. My eyes widened when the other man rose to his feet and pulled a knife out of his trousers. Pointing the knife at Hayden, he raced. Heart thundering in my chest, I clenched my eyes shut, twisting my face away, scared to witness bloodshed.
"Gotcha, fucker!" the man cheered, a little too happily before his laughter was cut short by the sound of punches.
Hayden's chaotic voice was calm as it delivered his merciless verdict. "And you are not an exemption." Peeling my eyes open, I looked just in time as Hayden smashed a glass bottle on my assaulter's head, sending the glass shards flying in all directions and the man staggering back.
Just like that, as my two assaulters were knocked down, the silence became more pronounced. The sound of crickets was the only thing around us. My heart pounded hard in my chest when the realisation sank into my mind.
I could've been raped, battered to death and left on this miserable street. I could've got myself killed. So much worse could've happened if it wasn't for Hayden stopping them. This night was uneventful because of my stupidity.
My eyes slid to Hayden's right fist to find beads of blood dripping from his wound. My husband saved me. Put his life in line with my life. He was bleeding and yet examined me clinically, eyes flicking from my face to my shoulders, down my body, then up again to my neck, arms, and fingers, as if to make sure I was unharmed.
Instead of thanking him, I burst into tears, not sure if it was my overwhelmed hormones or the gravity of the situation that was making my heart clench. I'm a horrible person!
For the first time tonight, I saw tension coil Hayden's shoulders. His velvety voice was low. "Spitfire..."
I gazed at him, tears and all.
"Are you hurt?" he queried, and I shook my head, biting my lower lip. "Come here." Knees trembling, I sauntered over to him and craned my neck to gaze into his eyes. His left thumb brushed my tears, face softening. "No more tears. Can you walk to the car without tripping?"
"Yes." I swallowed, feeling something warm unfurl inside me.
"Then go and sit in the backseat." His uninjured hands reached for my sketchbook and my bag as his eyes flitted to the car.
Without an ounce of resistance, I strolled to the waiting car, feeling his striking green gaze on me, heart warm from the knowledge that Hayden was behind me. Knowing him, trusting him, obeying him, I breathed fearlessly, knowing that he will protect me from anyone with every fibre of his being.
______________
As the family doctor dressed Hayden's wounds, Anne was all in tears and looked distressed, to say the least. Unlike my mother, Anne Evans was a sweetheart. She loved her children more than she loved fame and money. Saoirse occupied a chair in the corner of the room and observed me and Hayden silently.
Anne turned to me with tears in her eyes. She enquired, "How did he get this injury?"
I felt paralyzed in my spot, heart pounding in my chest, unable to answer her question as I stared at Anne, ashamed to admit out loud that this was all because of my stupidity. Croydon was famous for its crime rate. Anyone with a single functioning brain cell wouldn't have preferred staying on those streets defencelessly.
"Kate?"
Swallowing the log of shame lurking in my throat, I opened my mouth, nerves jarring. "I- he came-" My voice cracked when all the heads veered in her direction, which made me even more nervous.
"I got into a bar fight." Hayden's voice wrapped around me, the warmth from a lie seeping deep into my bones even if his expression was blank.
Saoirse's eyebrows hit her hairline, probably scenting the lie in her brother's voice. Anne's forehead creased. "Since when do you drink in a bar?"
"Since tonight," he mused in a sardonic tone.
"I find it hard to believe," mumbled Garrick Evans. "You're not a thug."
"Perhaps I'm taking after you in that department?" Hayden cocked a brow at his father, his green eyes challenging him. Hayden hated his dad. I wasn't sure why, but then it seemed completely normal since Garrick Evans was an annoying wanker.
After the doctor had left stitching up the wound from the knife, I had rushed to the bathroom to celebrate from a guilt fest, unable to face Hayden. Every single person in the mansion had been gob smacked that Hayden got into a fight. Apparently, for them, Hayden was too calm and collected to get into a fight. That information did nothing to ease my guilt, though. After making sure I looked presentable, I exited the bathroom and my eyes found Hayden who was standing at the window, conversing on the phone with the speaker turned on.
"I'll take care of the mess. Is that all?" A masculine voice boomed from the speaker.
"Theodore shouldn't get a sniff of this, Dean," Hayden ordered.
Dean sounded confused. "Don't you think they were hired by him?"
"No, they are street thugs, but Theodore will use her as bait if he knows about this," he reasoned.
"Far worse, he would have defamed you publicly for violence. What snapped you out of your calm, mate?"
Hayden ended the call and whirled around to gaze at me. Unlike in the streets, his eyes didn't have any softness or warmth. He was angry. Was he angry that I was the reason he had a wound? Or that I disobeyed him? The only thing I could grasp from the conversation was Hayden's public image could've been damaged permanently if he were found fighting on roads with drunkards. So, maybe he was angry because of that.
"Hayden-"
"Don't!" he warned me.
"I'm so ashamed of myself-"
"As you should be," he remarked, the coldness in his velvety voice giving me frostbite.
My heart clenched. Gazing at the floor, I whispered, "I didn't think you would get hurt."
His face was hard and brutal. "You don't use your brain a lot, do you?"
A sigh left my lips. "Look, I know what I did wasn't cool. I'm sorry. I'm well aware these words won't heal your wound and my anger could have got us both killed, but I had to tell you because I regret what I did."
Without another word, he shouldered past me, as if done with the conversation. I wasn't done, though. Until he absolved me, there was no way I could get a wink tonight. I had an extremely suicidal trait of self-blame, which was so over the top, especially when it was my fault. So, before Hayden could leave the room, I dropped to my feet on the ground and gripped his right leg, my thighs locking around his ankle as I held his calf like a koala.
Hayden blinked his eyes in surprise. "What prey are you doing? Let go of my leg!"
"No, I won't leave you. Until you forgive me." I tilted my neck to gaze up at him through my eyelashes.
"Katrina, don't you think you're behaving pitiful?" he asked me, keeping my voice calm. My eyes drifted to his tenting member in his sweatpants. I was painfully aware of my core pulsing against his ankle through the multiple layers of clothes. "Why are you dry humping my leg like a dog in heat?"
"I'm not dry humping!" I scowled at him, ignoring the colour rising to my face. "You have been an arse at your office, so don't blame me for not wanting your help. I know if used my common sense, the whole thing could have been avoided and you wouldn't have got hurt. I just... I'm sorry."
His hand reached for my hair, brushing the soft strands away from my face as he whispered, "Don't apologise for that."
"Huh? Didn't you just say I should be ashamed of myself?" I squinted my eyes.
His features hardened. "Starting from today, if I find you went out without security, I'll bury you alive before someone touches you, Spitfire." You should be ashamed of not having any self-preservation but don't apologise for their actions.
His eyes spoke reassurances his lips would never say. The fact that he truly prioritised my safety over his public image made warmth pool in my stomach.
"Now, let go of my leg."
Being the most stubborn woman on the planet, I didn't obey his order. Instead, I tightened my grip on him. "One more thing."
"What?"
"Tell me about the pact."
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LOL! How is Katrina's apology?
Just to be clear, Hayden isn't victim blaming. What he meant is, having a little self-preservation would have avoided this whole thing. He just has an infuriating habit of talking in riddles lol so don't come for me or bash Hayden in comments. And I'm clarifying this only for those who misunderstood it.
The next chapter has smut. Can I get 245 votes???
Stay safe ❤️