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Harper And The One Night Stand (Scandalous Series Book 3)

Page 8

by R. Linda


  “I’m sorry. Okay? I shouldn’t have sped here like that. I just wanted to see you. Make sure you were safe,” I whispered to her as calmed down.

  “But that’s just it,” she said so softly I strained to hear her.

  “What?”

  “You were so worried about me that you didn’t care about yourself or anyone else.” Her hands gripped my shirt as her tears soaked through to my skin. “What if something happened?”

  “But it didn’t. I’m okay. You’re okay. It’s all okay.”

  “It’s not, and I’m not.”

  We were still standing on the curb, so I walked her—still wrapped in my arms and against my chest—to the bench and sat, pulling her onto my lap.

  “Something happened, didn’t it? To you or someone you care about.” I tilted her face up and brushed a strand of black hair from her eyes. It was the only thing that made sense. The only thing I could think of that would cause her to react that way.

  She nodded.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again and wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

  Eventually her sobs stopped, her breathing evened out, and her tears dried. But neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. We just sat with her curled in my lap and my hands rubbing soft circles on her waist.

  “My brother,” she said after the longest time. Her voice was raw and scratchy, full of emotion. Full of sadness.

  “What happened?”

  “He killed someone.”

  I flinched. I didn’t mean to but that was a huge bombshell to drop on someone. She noticed and tensed in my arms as though preparing to get up and walk away. So, I did the only thing I could think of and pulled her closer, letting her know I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t judging. I was just listening.

  Chapter Ten

  Harper

  I sighed. I hadn’t talked about what happened with my brother for eight years, since I stopped going to therapy, and I didn’t know how to talk about it now. But I wanted to. Something about Nate made me want to tell him everything. Kenzie didn’t even know, and Brody had no clue. For the most part, I blocked it out as much as possible, choosing to ignore the nagging in my head to dredge up old memories I’d rather forget. Memories that made my heart hurt.

  “Nine years ago, my brother killed someone. A kid. Same age as me. Thirteen.” My voice trembled as I spoke. Nate stiffened and inhaled sharply but didn’t speak. Hearing someone killed anyone was a shock, but hearing someone killed a kid was hard to understand. “My parents were the lowest of low. They were addicted to everything. Alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, gambling. You name it, they did it. Life sucked growing up, and my brother was my guardian angel.” I smiled sadly at the thought of my brother, who I’d not seen or spoken to for two years. The one who told me to go and not come back. The one who abandoned me for my own good. I missed his smiling face, and the way he used to take care of me.

  “One night, I-I can’t really remember the details. I’ve blocked a lot out, but my parents used to drag me around everywhere with them. I was young, innocent looking, so they’d send me into their various dealers’ houses or drop me off on street corners to buy their drugs while they circled the block and came back. No one was going to suspect me of doing anything like that. I was the perfect cover.”

  Nate growled and tightened his arms even more around my waist, pulling me into the safety of his embrace. The beat of his heart echoed mine, erratic and unstable.

  “Anyway, this night they took me to a…I guess you could call it a party. I’d left my brother a note in our secret spot. We didn’t have phones then, so we left messages to each other under a loose floorboard in my room. He was working, but he would be finished soon. He was always working. Trying get enough money together so when he turned eighteen, he could get me away from them. I followed my parents into this house. It was putrid. The walls were stained yellow from cigarette smoke, there were bloodstains on the carpets, and everything else was black from dirt and grime, used needles littered the floor and countertops and everywhere.”

  I took a deep breath, needing a minute compose myself. Nate’s head was buried in the crook of my neck, and he still didn’t say a word. His hot breath drifting over my skin was comforting, and in that moment, I felt cherished, calm.

  “They were high. Like always, but it was wearing off. They were always looking for their next hit, chasing that high. As terrible as it sounds, I liked them better when they were high. They were always too out of it to pay attention to me when they were smashed. It was when they were coming down that life got…hard.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing the tears back. “So, they were coming down, but you know, their dealer was right there. The goods were on the table. Only they didn’t have the cash to pay. They were begging, pleading, offering anything for just one more hit, but h-he…he wasn’t interested. He didn’t want their car. He didn’t want my mother.” I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, she offered herself, and he turned her down. He wanted one thing, and one thing only.”

  Nate’s fingers dug into my skin, pinching, hurting, but I welcomed the pain. It took away from the pain in my chest, gave me something else to focus on.

  “Don’t. Say. It.” His voice was rough, broken, his lips brushing against the top of my shoulder and sending a shiver up my spine. Such a sweet yet innocent action had the power to break me and put me back together at the same time.

  I nodded and bit back a sob.

  “Me. He wanted me. I was thirteen. As messed up as they were, I was their daughter. They loved me in their own way. They wouldn’t allow that. They wouldn’t do that to me. But they did.”

  “Harper?”

  Tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I didn’t stop them. I needed to finish the story. He needed to know everything. “I don’t remember what happened next. I blocked it all out. I only know what the police told me after. Someone in that house, I don’t know who. I never asked. Someone dragged me out of the house be-before things got too far. My clothes were torn to shreds, but I wasn’t harmed. Whoever it was saved me.”

  Nate breathed a small sigh of relief and pressed his lips to the side of my neck, soft and warm. I settled into his arms, trying to lose myself in him.

  “I was taken from my parents and put into foster care the next day. But my brother, when he got my note about where my parents were taking me that night, he jumped into his car and came to find me. Only he didn’t make it. He was so out of his mind with worry, all he wanted to do was get to me. It was dark, and the road was wet. A kid from my school crossed the road, came out of nowhere, and Jeremy…my brother was driving too fast. He didn’t see him until it was too late. He couldn’t stop in time. In one night, I lost everything. I lost myself and my brother. He was jailed for involuntary manslaughter and reckless driving.”

  “Shit.” Nate took my face in his hands and turned me to look at him. The pain, the sadness, and the worry were all there in his eyes. “Harper, I—” He pressed his forehead to mine.

  He was at a loss for words. Understandable, given all the information I dumped on him. I didn’t need him to speak. I just needed him to understand my reaction earlier. I needed his warmth and safety.

  “He was given ten years and was eligible for parole after eight.”

  He pulled back slightly with wide eyes. “So, he’s out?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been two years since I last spoke to him. He ordered me away. Told me to make something of my life, not spend every other moment speaking to him behind a glass wall. He didn’t want me to wait. He didn’t want me to see the way prison changed him, hardened him. He-he…” I was losing it. My brother was my whole life, and he refused to see me again. I tried for weeks after he sent me away, but each time was told the same thing, “Jeremy Donovan is not taking visitors,” so in the end, I gave up. I tracked down an uncle I’d never met and packed my bags. That was how I came to live in Blackhill with Johnny
and Julie.

  “Shhh,” Nate whispered, staring into my eyes. Wiping the tears from my lashes and running his hands through my hair, he brought my face impossibly closer to his. I reached up and placed my palms over his, weaving our fingers together, not wanting to let him go.

  “It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” he said, his lips barely brushing mine as he spoke. “It’s okay.” He repeated the words over and over. Our breath mingled, and our lips grazed each other, but that was it. He didn’t try to kiss me, and I didn’t try to kiss him, though I wanted to. So bad. I was content. He was reassuring. “And your parents?”

  “Dead, for all I know. Haven’t heard from them since that night. Uncle Johnny refuses to acknowledge that my dad is his brother and never speaks of him.”

  Nate pressed a kiss to my forehead and tucked me under his arm again.

  We sat and watched the waves crashing against the shore until the breeze cooled and the sun began to set. We’d not moved or spoken for hours, each of us lost in our own thoughts, and neither wanting to let the other go. I knew this because every time I shifted positions, Nate would tighten his hold on me, bringing me closer to his warmth.

  “We should go,” he said and pressed his lips to my temple.

  I closed my eyes and smiled. “Not yet,” I said, making no move to leave his embrace.

  “Why?” he asked, dipping his head to my shoulder again.

  “Because I like where I am right now. It feels right, and I don’t want to lose this feeling,” I said honestly, because against my better judgement, I was at risk of falling for Nate Kellerman.

  Nate trailed his nose across the top of my shoulder and up the curve of my neck to the sensitive spot behind my ear and whispered, “I don’t want to either.”

  I was wrong. I wasn’t at risk of falling. The figurative ledge beneath my feet had already given way, and I was falling. Hard and fast. It was out of my control now, and all I could do was hope to survive.

  “But,” he continued. One word, and it was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over my head. I jolted in his arms and jumped to my feet, taking a step back. “You said it yourself. We can’t do this.”

  I folded my arms and nodded.

  Rejection wasn’t enjoyable. At all. Even though it was right, it didn’t feel it.

  Nate reached for me, his fingers gripped my hips and pulled me to him. Leaning his head against my stomach, his fingers splayed on my sides, he spoke again. “The consequences. Brody. It’s not fair to him.”

  I dropped my arms and threaded my fingers into his hair. Hearing him repeat my words was like a kick in the gut. Was that how he felt when I first ended things? Letting out a frustrated breath, I knew he was right. I was right. It just wasn’t fair. No one had made me feel this way. No one had made me care this much, not even Brody. Not the way I cared for Nate. I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted him, and I just wanted to say…

  “Screw the consequences.”

  Nate pulled back, his head lifting to meet my gaze. His eyes were dark, calculating as he chewed on his lip, contemplating my words.

  “Harper…” he warned.

  “Nate.”

  He pushed me back gently, releasing his grip on my waist. “I’m going to hate myself for this. You’re going to hate me too. It can’t happen. It’s not right.” He stood and picked up my bag from beside his feet.

  He was wrong. I didn’t hate him. I couldn’t hate someone for doing the right thing out of love, concern, and respect for another person’s feelings. But I could up my game and make him surrender. I wordlessly slid my hand into his, entwining our fingers, and walked beside him toward the parking lot. He opened the car door for me but stopped me before I climbed in. My back was hard against the window, but Nate leaned into me, his hips pressing into mine and one arm braced against the car while the other cupped my cheek.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “For trusting me and telling me your story.”

  And then…

  He kissed me.

  I gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, but his mouth remained closed. Clamped shut. There was no movement. His tongue stayed firmly behind his lips. It was nothing more than his mouth on mine. It was a kiss that said everything. A kiss that said he wanted to kiss me but couldn’t. A kiss that said we were more than friends when we couldn’t be. A kiss that said he wanted me as much as I did him, but it could never happen. A kiss that said we were just friends, when neither of us wanted that. It was a kiss that felt like the end before it even began.

  “Let’s go…friend,” he said and stepped back to let me in the car.

  We drove in silence all the way back home, my lips aching and tingling to feel his again. My fingers tangled with his and rested on his knee. My heart held firmly in his tight fist clenching the steering wheel.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nate

  I stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee. My eyes were dry, scratchy, and burning, and my lids were heavy. I was exhausted. Lack of sleep did that to a person.

  “What the hell, man? You’re a wreck,” Brody said as he threw the paper down on the table on Monday morning.

  I ran my hands over my face and fumbled with the coffee machine. I didn’t want to talk about it. I was tired, cranky, and needed coffee.

  “What’s going on?” he pressed and came over to put his breakfast dishes in the sink.

  “I didn’t sleep well last night.” I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and almost dropped it.

  “It wasn’t just last night. Was it?” Brody leaned against the counter and watched me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Thin walls. I hear you tossing and turning at night, when you get up for a drink, when you watch TV. I hear everything, and you’ve been doing this for a week now.”

  I shrugged. So, I hadn’t slept in a week. Big deal. I’d sleep when I was ready.

  “You see it, don’t you?”

  “Hmm?” I tried to sound vague as I opened the fridge for the milk, act like I didn’t know what he was talking about, when in reality I did, and he was right.

  “The fire. Audrey. Hear the screams.” His voice was quiet, distant, thick with emotion. He saw it too.

  “Yeah.” I cursed and punched the fridge. “Every time I close my damn eyes. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to. I always end up back in that house.”

  “I get it. I do. You need to talk to someone, though.”

  “I’m seeing a therapist. Not allowed back at work until she deems me fit for duty.”

  “Good.”

  “Seen her twice already. And it’s just making it worse.”

  “Keep going. You’re not going to be fit for duty until you get some sleep.”

  Brody folded his arms and looked at me curiously as I finished making my coffee. I wondered how he seemed so calm and mostly unaffected by the whole thing. He was sleeping, eating, drinking like normal. I was living on coffee and sugar to keep myself from crashing.

  “I’m going to see her today,” he said softly. “I need to.”

  “Who?”

  He hesitated. “Audrey.”

  My eyes widened, and I stared at him. He wasn’t serious. “Why?”

  “I need to see for myself that she’ll be okay.” He paused and gauged my reaction. “You should come with me. It might help.”

  “No.” I slammed my coffee cup down on the bench, pulling my hand away when the hot liquid splashed over my skin. I was fine. I didn’t need to see her.

  I ran the cold water over the burning. Nothing compared to what Audrey was feeling. The pain. The helplessness. I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t walk into that hospital room and see her bandaged from head to toe, unable to move, unable to speak from the pain. I couldn’t do it.

  “If I had just got there sooner, she might have been okay.” I didn’t even realise I’d said the words until Brody clapped his hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t do this. You can’t blame yourself. There’s nothing you could have done. If so
meone had called it in earlier, you might have got there sooner. If the air conditioner didn’t have a fault, it never would have happened. You didn’t do this.”

  He was right. Rationally, I knew he was. It wasn’t my fault. I did everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. No one could have predicted a fire would break out. But it didn’t change the fact that there was a young girl lying in a hospital bed, with third degree burns to sixty percent of her body, who’d just lost her entire family in an instant. I couldn’t imagine going through something like that. I didn’t want to.

  My thoughts drifted to Harper. Again. Like they had multiple times a day since I saw her last week. Harper had had a tough upbringing. Her family life was a nightmare, but she survived. She was strong. Independent. Happy…enough. She didn’t let what her parents did, what happened to her brother, destroy her. It didn’t send her spiralling out of control. She made something of her life.

  And maybe Audrey would too.

  “Okay. I’ll come,” I told Brody before I’d even really made up my mind to go with him. Just once. Just to convince myself that if nothing else good came of that day, at least we saved one girl.

  ***

  I hated the smell of hospitals. They reeked of sickness and death. And the sterile white…everything did nothing to make it better. I followed Brody down the hall. Monitors beeped in every room we passed. Nurses rushed from one place to another as Brody came to a stop outside a closed door.

  My steps slowed, gradually pulling farther and farther from Brody, until he turned around and noticed I wasn’t behind him any longer, that I was leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling. The two-and-a-half-hour drive to the city hadn’t prepared me enough to see her. Not yet.

 

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