Salvage Him (Highland Park Chronicles Book 1)

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

  "Really?" I asked.

  "She is a super sweetheart." Lean leaned into me. "When you guys are allowed to be official, we'll all go out."

  "Sure thing." I winked and grinned. I walked back toward my truck. I turned the SUV on and stopped for a minute. My chest ached, and I felt sick to my stomach. I drove over to Brooklyn's apartment.

  I headed toward the elevator but was stopped by Jason.

  "Mr. Crawford," he yelled as he came from around the desk.

  We never stayed at her apartment, but the doorman knew me.

  "Hey, Jason. Is Brooklyn home?" I pointed to the elevator.

  "I've been instructed not to let you up." Jason winced as if I might hit him.

  I scoffed, and the kid took two steps back.

  "What do you mean?" My hands balled into fists. "By who?"

  "I'm really sorry, Mr. Crawford." He stepped between me and the elevators. The kid had balls.

  If he knew the rage building up inside me, he would step away.

  "Who instructed?" I spit out the words.

  Jason's eyes darted around.

  I knew the answer.

  "Mr. McIntyre," Jason whispered.

  Mr. McIntyre.

  I ran a hand through my hair.

  "When did he come back?" I asked.

  "Uh," Jason stammered. "I can't tell you that."

  I flexed my hand into a fist but released it when Jason's eyes grew wide. I wasn't going to pound him even though every fiber in my being wanted to hit something or someone. I glared in his direction but not at him. He was doing his job.

  I walked outside and stared up at the building.

  How could I find out if she was okay if she wasn't answering my calls?

  Jason came outside.

  “Yesterday,” he said. "I am really sorry."

  "Don't worry about it. It's fine." I opened my door. "Have you seen Brooklyn since he returned?"

  "No, Sir. They haven't left the apartment."

  "Jason, do me a favor?"

  He nodded, his face red.

  "Just make up an excuse to go upstairs and see if she is okay." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card. "Call me after you see her?"

  "Okay."

  I could see the kid's mind working. I hated to put him that position, but I had to know she was okay.

  Jason turned around and headed into the building and straight for the elevator.

  I got in my truck and drove back to my apartment. I sat in the parking garage and waited for his call. I couldn't take another step. I couldn't breathe until I heard she was okay.

  I wasn't sure what had happened, but if Paul was back in the picture, and she had cut off contact with me, it wasn't good.

  When my phone rang, I jumped in my seat. My hands so frantic, I dropped it. When I finally had it in my hands, I answered.

  "Hello."

  "Mr. Crawford. It's Jason."

  "Yeah, Jason."

  "I saw her, and she's fine. She seemed upset about something. She wore sunglasses, which is weird, but maybe she was covering up that she'd been crying. Physically, she seemed fine."

  "Was Paul there?" I asked.

  "Yes. I told them some of their mail was stuck in the neighbor’s box and only the postman had the key, so I thought I would bring it up." He paused, and his voice dropped an octave. "Mr. McIntyre asked me to come in and help him move some boxes. They were packing."

  "Packing? Packing what?"

  "The whole place. He said they were moving into their new place soon, but some of the boxes had shipping labels for New York."

  "Okay. Thanks, Jason. I owe you one."

  "No problem." The breeze muffled his voice through the phone. "I like Ms. Brooklyn. She was nice to me. I was concerned, too."

  "Thank you. Call me if she leaves, okay?"

  "Of course."

  I hung up on him and called Justin.

  "Hello," Justin said.

  "I need your help."

  Twenty-Five

  Brooklyn

  I trashed my phone in the guest bathroom toilet before I realized it was my only link to the outside world and Harrison. Paul packed while I sat and moped around the apartment.

  Even if I had a phone, I wouldn't contact him. I couldn't risk Paul following through on his threat. I loved Harrison too much to see him ruined if I had the power to stop it.

  Paul apologized for hitting me. I accepted it only because I didn't want to make him angry. I wasn't scared for myself. I couldn't live with him hurting Harrison.

  When he announced we were moving back to New York, I faked acceptance. He said we could get back to New York and get back to our old lives. Harrison would be a distant memory . . . for Paul, anyway.

  I would never forget him.

  He would never forgive me for cutting off contact with him, but it didn't matter now.

  Paul was in the office packing when the intercom rang. He looked at me.

  I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders.

  "Hello," he answered it.

  "Mr. McIntyre, there's a Piper Drew here to see Mrs. McIntyre."

  "Who is Piper Drew?" he asked me.

  "She's an art student at SMU. She did the mural in my client's new nursery," I said.

  "Why would she show up here?" He came out of the office.

  "Paul, I don't know. Why don't you ask her?" I dropped my head. I was exhausted.

  He pressed the button and spoke back into the intercom. "What does she want?"

  "She has some flowers for Mrs. McIntyre because she was sick."

  "Send her up." He walked over to me. He inspected my face and smoothed a finger under my eye. The bruise had faded enough, and I had covered it with makeup. He held my face in his hands. "Have your little visit with your friend and then get rid of her. I have a surprise for you. We have a lot of work to do, but if we finish in time, I want to take you out for a romantic dinner tomorrow night."

  A chill ran up my spine, but I nodded.

  He let go and went back to the study. He stopped at the door and turned around.

  "Remember, Brooke." He smiled and nodded. "I love you."

  "Me, too," I said.

  We stared at each other, daring the other to say what we both felt. Neither of us meant it.

  The knock at the door startled me. I was so jumpy. I answered it, so relieved to see Piper's face.

  "Brooklyn." She sang my name and threw her arms around me.

  "Hi Piper," I said. I couldn't match her exuberance, but I was happy to see her.

  "Leanna told me you were sick, so I thought I'd stop by and see if you needed anything." She handed me the flowers. "You weren't answering your phone."

  "I broke it.” I smelled the flower. “I just haven't had a chance to get a new one."

  Paul stuck his head out of his office.

  "Well, hello." He peered down at Piper and smiled. He didn't have many opportunities to look down at people.

  I shook my head and smiled.

  "Piper, this is my husband, Paul. Paul, this is Piper."

  "Nice to meet you, Piper." He shook her hand. "Rarely do I get to meet one of Brooke's friends. Where did you two meet?"

  "Oh, my goodness.” Piper spread her hand across her chest. “Brooklyn saved my life."

  Paul narrowed his eyes. I smiled and nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

  "See, my father thinks being an art major is a waste of time. He's been trying to get me to come back home and work for him." Piper reached for my hand. "I showed him that check you gave me for doing Leanne's nursery, and he was actually impressed."

  "How did Brooke save your life?" Paul asked.

  "Have you been to Oklahoma?" Piper asked. "It's where creativity goes to die." She held her heart.

  I laughed for the first time in two days.

  Paul grinned and nodded.

  "The mural is amazing." I took Piper's hand and pulled her into the living room.

  "It did come out good, didn'
t it?" She giggled.

  I bit my lip.

  Paul tried to catch me in a lie. The prick.

  I kept my thoughts to myself.

  "Well, it's nice to meet you." Paul returned to the study.

  "Have a seat," I said. We sat across from each other but turned toward the view.

  "Are you okay?" she asked; her tone low but not quite a whisper.

  "I am."

  "You're leaving?" She bit her lip. "You didn't even say goodbye."

  "It's better this way. Everything is getting way too complicated." I looked out the window. "We're going back to New York. It will be better. Some distance."

  "I don't know what to say." Her face dropped, and tears sprung to her eyes. After all, she was southern, too.

  "Piper, don't look so sad. It's okay." I wrapped my arms around her. "I have to do this. To protect him."

  Piper's pulled back and searched my face.

  "What do you mean to protect him?" she asked.

  "I can't." I shook my head. "You can't tell Harrison. Paul knows his dad. If I stay with Harrison, Paul will ruin him, and I can't live with that. Not if I knew I could stop it."

  "But—"

  "No,” I grabbed her hands. “Promise me you won't tell him."

  "Is this some weird like sub's honor code thing?" she asked.

  I narrowed my eyes and laughed.

  "Well, I'm new to this. Are we supposed to protect each other because we're submissive?" She whispered the last word.

  She was adorable.

  "No, we protect each other because we're friends."

  She smiled and teared up again.

  "Oh. I’d better go before I can't stop." She rose to her feet and pulled me along with her.

  I hugged her.

  "Maybe we can hang out for a drink before you leave," Piper said.

  Paul joined us at the front door. He placed a hand on my back.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. That's not going to be possible. I'll be taking my love out for dinner tomorrow night. One last night in Big D and we’re leaving the next morning."

  "Oh, where you going?" Piper asked.

  "Cafe Pacific."

  "I love that place. Make sure you stay for dessert. It's unbelievable." Piper raised her eyebrows.

  Paul grinned. I leaned over and hugged her tight.

  "You’d better keep in touch," Piper said.

  "I will," I said and let her go.

  "Bye," she said to us both.

  "She's beautiful," Paul said.

  "She is," I said and turned around.

  Paul scooted in front of me.

  "You're with me, right?" He held my face.

  I couldn't turn away. It didn't matter. I was getting good at lying.

  "Same page."

  Paul allowed me to run by the house and get some things. The whole drive over, I had to talk myself out of going to see Harrison. I prayed he wouldn't be at the house even though part of me hoped to find him hunched over a counter with sawdust in his hair, chewing on his pencil.

  He wasn't.

  I drove to the restaurant. Paul had turned his car back into the dealership and was meeting me. We would leave mine here until we decided what to do with it and the house.

  I valeted my SUV and walked into the upscale restaurant. The place was elegant but comfortable. People dressed up and dressed down. You saw that all over Dallas. It was one of the reasons I loved it so much.

  "Mrs. McIntyre, let me show you to your table," the hostess said when I gave her my name.

  "Thank you."

  I followed the leggy blonde to a table in the center of the room. Paul would have requested it. Another couple sat at a table to our right, but the other tables were empty at the moment. It was close to seven o'clock.

  "Can I get you something from the bar?" the hostess asked.

  "Patron Silver, chilled with two limes," I said.

  She nodded and left to retrieve my drink.

  I felt self-conscious sitting in the room all by myself. It saddened me that if Harrison walked in the room, I would feel like the most beautiful woman in the world because that was how he saw me.

  With Paul, I felt weak. He would think I was pathetic for needing a man to make me feel good about myself.

  It was so fundamental to a Dom/sub relationship. I had the confidence and support to be myself because my Dom gave it to me. If he saw me as perfect, who the fuck was the world to tell me different?

  It was everything.

  I was going to miss that feeling most of all.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying, but it didn't work, and a tear fell. I lowered my head to wipe it away. When I raised my head, I felt it.

  I stared into the eyes of my everything.

  "Harrison Crawford."

  His eyes blinked as he pulled his gaze away from me and acknowledged Paul.

  "How the hell are you?” Paul held his hand out.

  I could see the anger and disgust in my Dom's eyes. He took Paul's outstretched hand and shook it.

  "Paul," Harrison said but never took his eyes off me.

  "Brooke and I are having a romantic dinner before we head back to New York.” Paul sat down to my left. “Why don't you join us for a quick drink?"

  Harrison nodded, pulled out the chair across from me, and slid in the seat.

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek. I dropped my eyes to my lap. It was too much.

  Harrison’s eyes held the hurt I caused.

  "So, Brooke, why don't you go ahead and tell Harrison in person. It will make you feel better." Paul grinned.

  I glared at him and shook my head.

  "It's not necessary," I said.

  "Oh, yes. I think it is." Paul caressed my cheek and turned to Harrison. "You see Harrison, I understand, given the opportunity you had to fuck my wife. I get it. She's hot and can be quite good when she's not lazy. And although I may be a fool, I am taking her word for it that it happened during our unfortunate separation. Nevertheless, I'm back in the picture. We are working on our marriage. So why don't you say your goodbyes . . . for good."

  Silent tears streamed down my face and onto my lap. I wiped them with the back of my hand. The finality of Paul's words crushed my heart. I couldn't say goodbye to Harrison, but I knew I had to. I had to protect him.

  I peeked a glance at him, and his stare took my breath away.

  "Brooklyn." He said my name in that way that made my insides ache. I held my head up and let his gaze wrap around my heart. "I know what you're doing, and I adore you even more for trying to protect me, but it's not necessary. He doesn't have power over us. He can't hurt me, and he can only hurt you if you continue to allow him to."

  I licked my lips and let Harrison’s words wash over me. They entered my soul.

  Paul spoke and gestured next to me.

  I couldn't hear him. All I heard was my Dom's voice.

  "While I would love to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, I'm not going to do that. I can't save you, but you can save me by saving yourself."

  Harrison's words were a beautiful melody written especially for me.

  I gulped the huge ball sitting at the top of my throat. My mind spoke, reached out to him.

  Please drag me out of here. I can't do it. I can't be wholly responsible for what Paul might do to you.

  "Brooke," Paul yelled.

  I looked around.

  We had an audience. The manager walked up and whispered something to Harrison.

  I blinked.

  He stood up.

  Take me with you.

  "Brooklyn, you can do this. Go to the apartment, get everything you need, and then come home.” He touched his chest. “I need you to take this first step because once you do, I will never leave your side again." Harrison wasn't asking.

  "Harrison," I whispered and looked at Paul.

  "Pup," Harrison said with a firm tone.

  My head snapped back to him.

  "He can't break me. My parents, my friends, they
all know me. Nothing he can say will change that. It's what I built for me. What I built for us. The only one who has the power to break me is you."

  I shook my head slowly side to side.

  Paul stood up.

  "Get him out of here," Paul yelled at the manager.

  "I'm going." Harrison held his hands up but held my gaze. Like he needed some reassurance his message had gotten through.

  I had to say something. I had to let him know I was with him.

  "You will never see him again." Paul leaned in and growled in my face.

  "I suspect I will. Where else am I going to get my fix?" I whispered it.

  Harrison grinned as he walked backward out of the restaurant.

  When he disappeared from my eyesight, I continued to stare at the spot he occupied, feeling his presence long after her left.

  "Goddammit, Brooke." Paul slammed his hands on the table. "What do I have to do for you to stay with me?"

  "Paul," I answered, happy I had found my voice. "Please let me go. You don't love me. You don't even like me. So please let me go."

  He shook his head as he turned away from me.

  "It's over," he whispered under his breath. I so wished he was talking about us.

  He wasn't.

  Twenty-Six

  Brooklyn

  Paul threw a couple of twenties on the table and yanked me out of the chair by my arm.

  Who knew he would be the one to drag me through the restaurant?

  We waited for the valet to bring my SUV around.

  Paul remained silent, but sweat had dampened his collar. Red splotches peppered his cheeks and neck. He panted as he loosened his collar. He couldn't focus; his eyes darted around. When my SUV pulled up, he nudged me toward the passenger side. He walked around to the driver’s side and slid in.

  I hesitated.

  "Get in the fucking car, Brooklyn," he yelled.

  The valet attendant gave me a look as if asking if I was sure I wanted to go with this man.

  I wasn't sure myself, but I wanted to get home and get my stuff. This was my car. I wanted to get to Harrison's place, lock the door, and never leave.

  Once we got to the apartment, I would feel safe. The good thing about living in a high rise. People were always around.

  I climbed in and struggled to secure my seat belt before we sped off. A couple jumped out of the way to avoid getting run over.