Harkham's Choice (Harkham's Series Book 2)

by Chanse Lowell

  “Mad? Is that what she told you?” Mari lifted her shirt and showed him her stitches. “She did this. She attacked me with a knife—stole Adam’s car and phone. Mad doesn’t even touch what I am. She’s psychotic. You need to turn her in if you know where she is.” She put her shirt back down.

  Daniel’s eyes flew up, and the girls at the table covered their mouths when they saw her wound.

  “She did that to you?” Daniel gasped.

  “Yeah. She tackled me, then stabbed me once, really deep. Wanna know how close to some vital organs and bones she got?” Her lips twitched as she took a breath, the memory jabbing into her mind, hurting almost as much as the actual attack.

  “If Samara hadn’t stood up to try to slice her from throat to belly, then I probably wouldn’t have been able to save Mari in time. We want to get her some help,” Adam said, finishing for her.

  Daniel’s eyes roamed to the table. “I don’t know exactly where she is. She didn’t really say, but she did say she’d return for your wedding.”

  “She’s not invited,” Adam said, his voice lacking all emotion.

  “Yeah, I can see why.” Daniel tapped his finger on the table. “Give me your phone number. When she calls, I’ll let you know right away.”

  “We need more than that. You need to tell us where she is, and what she’s doing after you talk to her again,” Mari told him and stood up.

  She reached for Adam’s hand.

  He took it.

  “Thank you, Daniel. I can’t really be friends with you, but maybe next time I see you, I’ll shake your hand so you know we’re not enemies. I hope I can trust you,” Adam said.

  Mari gave no goodbye, just left with Adam at her side when he was done talking.

  “That was rude not to say goodbye,” Adam told her.

  “I know . . . I did it on purpose. I want him to dislike me, too. Then he’ll tell her where I am and what I’m doing instead. She’ll come back for me, Adam—and when she does, we’ll be ready for her.”

  She got in line to get her food. Adam did the same.

  While they ate in silence, she stared at Daniel and gauged his reactions.

  Yeah, he was shaking and uptight while he talked to his friends.

  He looked paranoid. No doubt he’d say something to Samara as soon as he could.

  Something deep inside told her he knew exactly where she was. Did Samara have him memorize a script or something on what to say if they contacted him? He was lying.

  Bastard!

  * * *

  Mari was cooking dinner tonight. She was spooked—every sound making her jump.

  Adam finally stood next to her and held her hand, slowing down the cooking process, but she was happy to have him nearby.

  “Are you okay?” He released his fingers knotted in hers and set his hands on her shoulders.

  “I don’t know.” She put down the mixing spoon and turned to him. “How did you know yesterday where Samara was and that she was attacking me?”

  He inhaled a stuttering breath. “I didn’t know. It looked like dinner was done cooking, so I set the table. And when I went to ask Samara what to do next, she was gone. I went looking for her, and then I heard something fall in your room with a heavy thud. I ran in through her bedroom door because it was wide open. I figured yours would be locked since you’d just showered. That’s when I saw her and what she was doing.”

  A chill gathered around her spine like a cold fist was milking the icy fluids all the way down to her toes. She closed her eyes and dropped her head. It almost felt like a prayer—the way she was searching her thoughts for answers. “Adam, if you hadn’t gotten there when you did . . .” She licked her lips—her tongue was cold, too.

  “I’m glad I did. When I saw that knife in her hands, and she pulled it back . . . God—I swear, I almost died. I thought about how I’d miss you at first if she managed to kill you before I hurt her, but then it was more than that. I had a moment when I realized—if you died, then I was already gone. Nothing would matter, and I would’ve let Sam kill me too.”

  Her eyes flashed wide, and in a sweeping rush, her intake of air jammed in her windpipe. She grabbed at her throat. “No . . .” she muttered under her breath. “You can’t ever say th—”

  Rmmmmmmmmmmmnnnnuh . . .

  The sound of an engine cut off in the driveway.

  Their heads snapped in that direction.

  Before Mari could tell Adam to stay put, he ran through the house toward the front door. She was right behind him, gaping at the Mercedes parked in the driveway.

  A dark, wavy-haired head poked out of the driver’s door, and Daniel got out.

  He walked over to them and gave Adam the keys.

  “She told me to tell you once again that she’s sorry and she loves you.” Daniel’s eyes were apologetic.

  “What other lies did she say?” Mari asked.

  “None. I broke up with her. After I saw what she did to you . . . I knew she was leaving stuff out, but I had no idea. She told me to wait and bring the car back in a few days so you’d think she was still in town, but I wasn’t about to let you be without your wheels because she . . . Well, never mind.” Daniel put his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I was in the middle. I wish now I hadn’t been. I really love her, ya know?”

  “I’m glad you do. I hope she gets some help,” Mari said, her eyes sweeping over him with her jaw tight. “There’s something seriously wrong with her. She’s really violent.”

  “I know. I told her the same thing. She said it was her mom’s fault, not hers. Do you know what that means?” he asked Adam.

  Adam shrugged and shook his head. “I have no idea what she’s talking about. Mom never lifted a finger against us, and she was always really nice. Hardly ever yelled or anything.”

  Daniel sighed, and his eyes drifted over to the house. “If I hear anything else from her, I’ll let you know. Can I get your phone numbers? Forgot to follow up and get it last time.”

  Mari passed him her phone since Adam’s was with Samara.

  Daniel typed his in. She called him, and he immediately saved the number on his.

  “Thanks.” Daniel jiggled his phone in his palm at them. “I appreciate it.”

  “Do you need a ride home?” Adam asked.

  “Nah. I’ve got a friend that’s gonna pick me up in five minutes at the corner there.” Daniel pointed at the end of the street.

  Mari’s gut lifted. Who was this friend, and why not call them and cancel, get a ride from Adam? Was he lying again? Her eyes narrowed a little.

  “Samara didn’t happen to give you Adam’s phone back, did she?” Mari asked before he walked away.

  “No. She said he deserved it since he burned hers.” Daniel turned to Adam smirking. “Is that true? Did you really do that?”

  The left half of Adam’s lips twisted into a goofy grin, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah. It was fun.”

  Daniel chuckled. “I’m sure it was. She was pii-iissed off about that one when it happened. I thought she’d accidentally flushed it and was embarrassed so she made up some silly story about you doing that. He shifted away for a moment, looking like he was anxious to get away. “In the tub?” He smiled and looked at Adam.

  “Yeah. My dad got mad about that. Next time, I’ll do it in the grill in the backyard, but I didn’t want her to catch me doing it. The bathroom has a good lock on it.”

  “Not good enough,” Mari mumbled under her breath, recalling his surprising shower visit with her. She nudged Adam.

  He blushed. “No, not good enough to keep me out.”

  Daniel’s cheeks tinged pink, a little flustered, probably figuring out what they were talking about.

  “I’ll let you guys get back to dinner,” Daniel said, waving bye.

  He left, and Adam got inside the car to check it over.

  Everything was exactly how he’d left it.

  With the exception of the small note on the passenger’s seat.

 
Adam read it silently to himself, wadded it up, tossed it on the lawn on his way back inside the house and snorted with disbelief.

  Mari picked it up, straightened the note out and read it—I’ll find Mom. Love, Samara

  “Not if I find her first!” he growled.

  Chapter 9

  Adam’s jaw flexed. “I found you,” he said to the screen.

  It was his mom’s brother, Peter. He lived in France.

  Adam bounced out of his seat and found Mari in the living room, wrapping Christmas presents.

  “Don’t come in!” she hollered. “I’m wrapping your gift.”

  “I thought we said nothing big,” he reminded her.

  “It’s not big, but I can still wrap it,” she said, sounding beyond excited.

  He turned around and closed his eyes. “Tell me when it’s safe to come in.”

  A few crinkles of paper and the tape snapping and sealing the gift made him break out in goose bumps. But what really had him smiling was when he heard her mumbled, “’Kay. It’s safe now.”

  He turned and smiled.

  “I’ve got her,” he said, beaming.

  “Your mom?” she asked, pushing herself up to standing with some effort.

  The stitches were probably pulling. He helped her up, hoping to relieve the pressure on her side.

  “Thanks,” she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss. “So, tell me where she is.”

  “I’m not really certain she’s there, but I found her brother. His name’s Peter Richards. No phone number. I’ve looked and looked, but I’ve got an address. I have a good feeling she’s there.”

  She hugged him. “I’m sure she is. Why don’t you write him a letter?”

  “Will you help me? I don’t want it to sound childish.”

  She smiled and patted his chest. “You’re the brilliant one, not me. But, yeah, I’ll help if you want. Let’s do it tonight after dinner.”

  “We’ve gotta get our laundry done.”

  “Hey, I’ve been saying that for two days now. You’re the one that keeps putting it off.” She smacked his tush.

  He smirked. It was always a treat when she did that. “I know, but I was looking for her.”

  She grabbed the wrapping paper, tape, scissors and Sharpie, then went to put them away. “Hopefully the search is over,” she said as he trailed behind her.

  “Me too.” He pushed his bangs out of his eyes.

  “Hey, I’m home!” his dad said.

  “Dad! Great news!” Adam yelled, loping after him and then shared the same information he gave to Mari.

  His dad’s lips formed an O. “Wow, I’m . . . I thought so . . . I put a trace on your cell phone. Sammie wasn’t using it, so it was doing me no good. But this morning I found out she used it last night, and she’s in Paris. I contacted the police we’ve been dealing with about this whole thing. They’re gonna look into it as well.”

  His father looked exhausted. He’d been dealing with a ton of stuff since Sam disappeared. He had to report her missing with the police, at school, and file reports on Mari’s attack. His eyes were always red and sagging now.

  Adam’s brows pinched together into a V. “So, do you think Mom’s there? Should we go there, too? We need to find her. What if Sam—”

  His dad’s hand landed on Adam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Slow down. I doubt she’s gonna try to harm your mother. And Sarah made it quite clear she was done with this family. We stay here.”

  “Can I send a note to Uncle Peter?” Adam asked, his voice breaking.

  “Sure. You can ask if she’s there, and maybe we should go ahead and print up the wedding invitations Mari made on the computer. We can send that along too, just in case.”

  Adam nodded, grinning. His heart flooded with warmth. Once Mari came back home with him after his restaurant freak-out, she was fully committed to him, and she proved it by designing their wedding invitations almost right away.

  His dad hugged him, patted him on the back a few times and said, “I’m proud of you for persevering and finding out more than I ever did.”

  “Did you really try, Dad? Honestly?”

  “Not as hard as I could’ve. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to know. After the divorce was final . . . I don’t know.” His dad paused, and his expression went blank. “It was difficult. What if she’d already found somebody else and had remarried?” His eyes clouded with pain and tears a split second after he said the final word.

  But . . . his father never cried, ever. He was a big man and was tough. Nothing bothered him—not really.

  “I love you, Dad. And I love her too—but I’ll always be near you, not her. You stayed. You never quit on me.”

  His dad blinked, looking a little dazed. “Thank you, Son. It’s good to hear you don’t resent me for some of the tough choices I had to make for you. I love you, too. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that you and Mari seem to be doing well together and at school. You make me proud.”

  “I do?” Adam’s voice rose quite a bit.

  “Yes. And I know I should tell you that more.” His dad stood still for a moment, gave one nod and left to his office.

  “Wow . . .” Adam whispered to himself.

  He had a great family. If only Sam could be okay again.

  * * *

  “Adam, I’m fine,” Mari said on the last day of school before winter break started.

  “You’re still healing,” he replied, his arm tight around her, his hand on her hip. “You do too much. Stop it.”

  “It’s been over a week since I had the stitches put in.” She shoved him playfully away. The contact broke. “I think you just want an excuse at school to be all over me.”

  “I don’t need an excuse,” he said, grabbing her ring finger and spinning the band around.

  “You’re too damn cute, you know that?” She smirked.

  He looked down at her and pretended to make a serious face. “Yes,” he said, trying to be a baritone and failing.

  “So dopey, too.” She chuckled.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and answered right away. “Victor?”

  “Hey . . . I’ve got some bad news for you,” Vic responded.

  “What? Lemme guess . . . You’ve decided to follow my advice and leave that arm-pit town? Phoenix’s not ready for y—”

  “Mari, your dad’s . . . Well . . .” Vic sighed. “He’s dead.”

  Her face froze, and her heart followed right after. “He died?”

  Adam was practically on top of her, bending down to listen as closely to her phone as he could.

  “I’m so sorry, hon. As far as we can tell, he fell down the stairs while carrying some boxes up there and broke his neck,” Vic said, his voice shaky. She could hear him crying.

  “When?” she asked, her voice breathy and barely audible.

  “Two days ago . . . We think.”

  “And I’m just now hearing this?” She gripped the phone so tight it hurt her fingers.

  “Nobody knew. He never leaves anymore. The mailman was the one that noticed he wasn’t emptying out the mailbox. He peeked inside a window and saw him on the ground,” Vic explained, using a soothing tone. “I called you as soon as I found out.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks. “O-kay, I . . . I . . . What am I supposed to do?”

  “Talk to your mom. Funeral plans need to be ma—”

  “I’d rather strike a match and cremate him along with all his stuff nobody wants,” Mari said, cutting him off.

  “Mari, c’mon. Call your mom,” Victor pleaded. “There are people here that would like to say goodbye.”

  “I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it,” she said, staring at Adam’s sweet, sympathetic look. She kissed him. It was the only thing she knew would hold her together. Other than his arms completely enfolded around her.

  “Call me back when you do,” Vic said. “Oh, and, Mari?”

  “What?” she said a little curt.

  “H
e was your dad, and he loved you. Don’t do anything rash just because you parted on bad terms.”

  “Yeah. Real sage advice by the person that had to take my dad’s loaded weapon out of my face,” Mari said, making a grunting, scraping sound at the back of her throat as soon as she was done speaking.

  Adam gripped her arm, and his fingers cinched down.

  Oh great. She was freaking Adam out.

  “Gotta go. I’m at school. Talk to you later.” She hung up.

  Adam whirled her straight into his arms.

  “I’m fine,” she said, unsure of how she felt, what she thought, and how to handle all this.

  A part of her knew she needed this hug more than anything, but the other part—the screechy, strong, independent, bullheaded part—told her she didn’t need anyone. Especially not now. She could handle this all on her own. Like she always did when something bad happened.

  But then Adam kissed her ear and said, “It’s okay to be sad. I’ll let you be sad and hidden in my arms. It’s okay—my Mari. I’ve got you. The world won’t see. Only I’ll know, and I won’t tell a soul.” He rocked her a little.

  “What if I don’t want to be sad?” She sniffed back the beginnings of tears.

  “He was your father. That usually means a heavy heart when they pass.” He hummed deep in his belly, and she felt the vibration move right into her. “I’m sad. I knew him a little bit, but I’ll cry, too.”

  That small act doubled how concrete and safe it felt to be here with him, tucked away.

  God, he was so perfect.

  “You sure he’s worth the tears? He was kind of mean the last time you saw him . . .” She paused and sealed her lips shut, fighting off the tears once more.

  “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a heart that feels. Even when it feels too much and too icky.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “You know he—”

  “Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t. I don’t even care how he treated me at this point. I can’t stand to even think about the last time I was there and the mean things I said to him.” She kicked her foot behind her and crossed that ankle behind the other, keeping her eyes downcast at the ground. “That’s what bothers me. Nothing else. I don’t care about any other damned fucking thing in this whole ordeal.”