IT HAS TO BE YOU
Chapter
Four
Cal stared at the
couple, his astonishment turning quickly to rage. "Rose, you little
slut!" He lashed out, infuriated that his rival was still alive and still
favored by Rose.
Jack stepped
between Rose and Cal. "Don’t call her that," he told Cal, looking him
straight in the eye. "You couldn’t be further from the truth."
"What will you
do if I do call her that?" Cal challenged, smirking. "Take her
away?"
"She’s already
chosen to leave you. What she does next is up to her."
"You’re not
much of a man if you let her walk all over you. A woman’s place is to honor and
obey, and it takes a better man than you to keep her in line."
"Maybe. But if
you’re the better man, I pity you. Rose is intelligent and strong-willed, the
sort of woman that you could never handle without looking her up in a golden
cage and taking the fire out of her. And before you could do that, I’ve no
doubt she would turn your life upside down and make you miserable. You need a
weak, worshipful debutante, not a woman of strength and conviction."
"It takes a
man like me to handle her, Dawson. You have nothing. You are nothing, and that
will never change. You’ll never be able to handle her."
"I don’t need
to handle her. Rose is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Unlike
you, I don’t need to prove myself by dominating her and bending her to my will.
I love her the way she is."
Cal stared at him
for a moment, his face dark with fury. Then, he smiled slyly.
"You mean you
love her money the way it is. Dawson, I have news for you. Her family has
nothing. Her father died, leaving them only his debts. You’ll get nothing from
her."
"I don’t care
about her money, or lack of it. Rose is all I want."
"I see that
you don’t believe me. No, Dawson, I won’t you let you use an innocent, naïve
girl like Rose."
"Why
not?" Rose spoke up. "You would have used me for my money if I had
any. As it is, you only want to marry me because it would be a great social
achievement for you—a pretty debutante on your arm at high society gatherings,
a young woman to give you the heir that is so valued by men of your status, a
link with the still-renowned DeWitt Bukater name." She stepped around
Jack, standing face to face with Cal. "As I have told you, the wedding is
off. Find another debutante. Perhaps you will be able to handle her."
Cal’s temper
exploded. Giving Rose a shove, he knocked her to the ground, and was about to
come after her again when Jack grabbed him and punched him in the face.
Cal didn’t
hesitate. He hadn’t been in his share of barroom brawls for nothing. Regaining
his balance, he swung at Jack, hitting him hard in the mouth.
Rose scrambled to
her feet. "Stop!" she cried, seeing the violence erupting before her.
"Stop it right now!"
Neither man listened.
The conflict that had been simmering between them for days would no longer be
held back. Jack had been in his share of brawls, too, and was almost evenly
matched with Cal. In moments, they were grappling on deck, throwing punches for
all they were worth.
"Cal! Jack!
Stop!" Rose screamed, hating the further display of violence. Hadn’t there
been enough on the Titanic the night before?
Steeling herself,
she tried to get between them, only to be forcibly ejected as Cal knocked Jack
to the ground and began pounding him. Jack, more weakened than he had realized
by his ordeal in the water the night before, could only try to defend himself,
throwing up his arms to block Cal’s blows.
"Cal! Get away
from him! Stop!" Rose rushed forward again, but by this time her screams
had brought a steward, who collared both men and pulled them apart.
"Jack!"
Rose ran to him, her eyes wide in shock. One of his eyes was blackened and
already beginning to swell shut, his nose was bleeding profusely, and his lower
lip was split open from the force of Cal’s first blow.
Jack looked at her,
dazed, before sliding from the steward’s grasp and dropping to the deck in a
heap.
"Jack!"
Rose dropped to her knees beside him, reaching to touch his bruised face.
Cal pulled her back
up, gripping her arm so tightly she winced. "Sweetpea, leave him
alone."
"I am not your
sweetpea!" Rose retorted, but the steward interrupted before she could say
more.
"Sir, I
suggest you and your lady go back to first class where you belong. This man
needs a doctor’s care."
"Jack!"
Rose tried to break free of Cal’s grasp, but he pulled her away, marching
toward the stairs and away from steerage, his grip on her arm never loosening.
"Come,
Sweetpea. Your mother is worried about you."