Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1)

by Chanse Lowell

  “No, I . . . I wanted to . . . I figured you needed a hit, and I wanted to give it to you, because I knew what I’d get in return.” He smiled.

  Her stomach retched. She had to fight off the impending episode threatening to break free. No vomiting! This would explode in her face if that happened.

  “Tell Kendra to up her game. It’s not hard. All she has to do is stop breathing for a while so she won’t smell or taste any of your vile—”

  Whhhhhaaaaack!

  He kicked her in the gut, and she went flying backward.

  “Uuuuuummgggg,” she groaned.

  He staggered toward her, hobbling because of where she’d punched him.

  “You self-righteous bitch. You’ll be begging for it, and when you do, I’m gonna make you do it until you can’t even remember your own name! It won’t be nice for you. And then, maybe I’ll give you my cheap stuff—the garbage nobody wants to inject in their veins. The stuff that makes you see monsters coming out of the cracks of the walls.”

  “They look like you, right?” she managed to choke out. “What a hideous nightmare.”

  She rolled to her side, then pushed herself up to standing.

  He leaned toward her and extended his neck as far as it would go. He whispered through his teeth, “I was gonna give you the best I had. You would’ve been high all night long, and all it would’ve taken was you giving me oral and your fingers shoved in my ass, you little fucking slut.”

  “Goodbye, Rory. I’m through here.” She took off, walking much faster than he’d ever be able to.

  Her stomach felt flayed open, gutted with a machete, but she straightened her spine and told herself Adam would see how badly Rory had messed her up if she didn’t walk correctly. And there was no way she’d do that to him—not her sweet, innocent Adam.

  She paid for a soda on the way back to the bleachers, and when she got there, Kendra was at his side, blowing on his neck.

  Mari exhaled in a rush. How many people was she going to have to try to sterilize with a crotch-jab tonight? Her fist was gonna be sorer tomorrow than her stomach.

  She spit out several coarse words under her breath as she approached victim number two.

  Bitch needed to figure out that bleachers were for high school events, not prostitution with unwilling, innocent high school students like Adam.

  Mari cracked her knuckles and took a slow pace up the steps.

  This night was going to be worse than hell, because there was no way Mari was going to be able to sit there and allow Kendra to get her hands on Adam.

  Chapter 9

  “Oh, hi, Mari,” Kendra said, smirking and weaving her head back and forth as a taunt.

  The skank wiggled her fingers that were on the seat right next to Adam’s thigh, sans fake nails, nail polish and rings.

  “Mmm,” Mari grunted and tipped her chin up in slight acknowledgment of Kendra. “You’re in my seat.”

  “You took too long to claim it. Adam promised he’d hold my hand at a sporting event, so here we are.” Kendra stretched her neck and leaned in Adam’s direction.

  He inched away. “I’m not ready for that, and I never really meant to do this. I didn’t think I’d ever be here at a game,” he admitted. He turned his head to Kendra but kept as far away as possible as he glued himself up against Samara. “It wasn’t a lie though, because I said I ‘might,’ not ‘will,’ so I don’t have to do it.”

  “Don’t be like that, Adam. Ignore whatever stuff Mari’s told you about me.”

  His eyes narrowed at her. “Mari doesn’t talk about you. She doesn’t talk about anybody.”

  “Yeah, not worth it,” Mari murmured under her breath.

  “Excuse me? You mean to tell me you’re scared of me on your own?” Kendra slid over until her thigh was flush up against his. Her mottled bare leg looked macabre, like a zombie virus was inside her. It was unseasonably chilly tonight—the bleachers were frosty, and this girl wore a miniskirt, heels, and tank top.

  “I’m not scared, I just don’t like you,” Adam blurted. He looped his arm through Samara’s.

  “Enough of this, Kendra. He’s not used to people being this forward. You’re freaking him out, and we don’t need him to trip out on us up here. Please leave.” Samara flicked her head toward the steps leading to the bottom of the bleachers.

  “No. He’s my friend, and it’s cold. I’m gonna warm him up,” Kendra insisted. Her hand reached out, and Adam closed his eyes and whimpered.

  Mari’s hand flew out, and her grip clasped around that tiny wrist. “No means no. There’s such a thing as female rapists, Ken. Do you know what happens to them?”

  “Nothing, because they don’t exist.” Kendra clawed at Mari’s vice grip on her.

  Samara got up, went to the other side of Kendra and yanked her by the arm until she was standing.

  Kendra yelped, and her eyes went wide as her face drained of color.

  Samara got right in her face. “That’s right they don’t, because I make sure they get destroyed.” Her jaw tightened. “I don’t allow anyone to harm my brother.” Her jaw was set so tight, it twitched near her temples.

  Shivers broke through Mari, and she stepped back.

  Samara gave a slight push on Kendra’s shoulder. “Bye, bye.”

  Kendra tripped down a few stairs and found her cousin Tara a few seats away. She joined her, pointed in Mari’s direction, whispered, glared and made a general ass of herself.

  Mari sat down in the spot Kendra had left warm. It was difficult to stay in that spot, knowing who had been there, but Mari took a few deep breaths and talked herself into staying.

  “Crisis averted,” Mari told him.

  “I was rude. I told her I don’t like her.” Adam wrapped himself around her, hugging with a hold bordering on painful.

  “Was it true?” She stroked her hand up and down, from his head to his waist, over and over.

  His body shook. “Yes. I hate her.”

  Hate? So far, Adam never used strong words like that around her. “Why?”

  “She creeps me out, and she’s like somebody else I once knew . . .”

  Samara stood as a sentinel at the end of the row like she was making sure no other whore came near him. It was far enough away she’d be oblivious to anything Mari said to him.

  “Who? Who does she remind you of?”

  “At my last school, the last time I tried to complete my senior year, a girl acted like she loved me. I believed her, and I thought I was supposed to have a girlfriend. She took me into the girls’ bathroom and told me to get naked. So I did. She pulled a camera out of her backpack. She said it would be fun to pose for pictures, so I bent over for her, but I made sure she could see my face, because she said that was important.” Mari stopped breathing. Her gut weighed about a hundred pounds and was sinking through her body. Her arms grew stiff as the instinct to pound this girl into oblivion took over. She continued to stroke him, and he went on. “Samara was looking for me, and she found us. She made me get dressed, kicked me out of the bathroom, then she took care of the girl.”

  “Fooooohhhh,” Mari exhaled with controlled increments. Calm, Mari. You don’t know this girl . . . Her hands flexed, and she shut her eyes while she took a steadying breath. She opened them, and he was staring at her with questioning eyes. “Take care how?”

  “I don’t know, but the camera was missing after that, and the girl looked like she was going to cry when she came out of the bathroom and saw me.” He shuddered for a moment. “When she came near me to talk, there was a lot of blood.”

  “Blood?” She had to fight off the overwhelming urge to jump up and hunt this twisted bitch down that had him posing as if for a photo shoot.

  “I don’t know what happened. The numbers took me, but when I came back around, she had blood all over her face and Samara was being dragged away.” He wrapped his leg over hers. “I got kicked out of school after that.”

  “My God . . .” She worked her fingers into his hair,
stared at his huddled-up form draped around her and swore this type of thing would never happen to him again as long as they were both at the same school.

  Mari glanced over at Samara and . . . nothing. All numb.

  There was no gratitude there. More a sense of impending danger, the most menacing kind in Adam’s life.

  A sheet of ice ran down her back, or that’s what it felt like when she realized Samara knew a lot more about the trouble Adam had experienced than she’d ever tell.

  Adam had told her to ask Samara whenever she had questions about him.

  Screw that. There was something really wrong here . . .

  * * *

  One week later, Adam was stuck and had no idea what to do. Mari was gone, and the Homecoming dance was tonight. Sam said she didn’t know where Mari had gone either. He didn’t believe her.

  Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like Mari ever said she’d go with him, but he’d hoped he could convince her to go tonight when he showed up at her door in a suit.

  So, he did the only thing he could—stole his sister’s phone, read her texts and emails that involved Mari, found out where she was, and for the first time, lied to his dad.

  Sam had already lied to Adam—she knew exactly where Mari had gone, so one more lie in the family would be acceptable.

  Besides, he had no choice. It wasn’t like he could call Mari’s mom and ask where she went—that woman disliked him more than he detested most vegetables.

  He told his family he was going to the Homecoming Dance on his own. They all believed him, and Sam didn’t even question him as she ran around getting ready. She seemed distracted, but said she’d look for him at the dance and make sure he was okay.

  After dressing in his nicest suit, he packed a change of clothes in his backpack and shoved it in the backseat of his car.

  He drove north for two straight hours until he arrived in Flagstaff and was careful not to speed even though his foot tapped at the gas pedal several times in a twitchy way.

  The numbers would come and go, but he kept Mari at the forefront of his thoughts to keep himself present and under control.

  His music playing loudly helped as well.

  He drove around the city until he found where she was.

  The address was easy enough to find—she, however, was not.

  There was a sea of people in a long line wrapping around a block. Why was she out at night, waiting in line for some rock concert tickets? Why didn’t she buy them online?

  He scanned the crowd, starting at the back and moving toward the front of the gargantuan line.

  A few people were wrapped up in blankets and sleeping bags. He stared at them carefully in case she was one of them.

  As he got closer to the front, his heart pounded. What if she wasn’t here?

  “Thanks,” he heard a familiar, sweet voice say.

  Adam’s legs almost gave out on him, but they got smart and broke into a run instead, straight toward that glorious sound.

  She was in a sleeping bag, sitting on the pavement, blowing at a hot drink in her hand.

  There was a man sitting in front of her on a camping chair, handing her something she must’ve dropped.

  A tightness in Adam’s chest overwhelmed him as his heart constricted violently.

  “Mari!” he yelled to snatch her attention away.

  Outside of Rory, he’d never seen her talk to any other guy besides himself.

  He didn’t like it.

  Her head snapped in his direction, and when she saw him, her whole face lit up as she sat up taller. It disappeared as quick as a fading shooting star, but it was there, and he wrapped his heart around it so he’d never forget that look.

  He trotted over to her, stopped abruptly and dropped down onto the cool sidewalk so he could be with her.

  “This is nice,” he said.

  “I think so,” she replied. “This is where I belong.”

  On the sidewalk in a sleeping bag? Hmm. He didn’t quite understand what she meant, but that was okay. This was Mari. She’d explain later. Of course she would. He folded his arms over his chest. The night air was chilly. “Then I belong here, too.” He grinned.

  “Adam . . . What are you doing here? Does your family know where you are?”

  “I wanted to find you.” He smiled bigger, hoping to distract her from asking about his family again.

  “And where do they think you are?”

  “At the dance.”

  She looked at her cell phone and turned it on. “Which is ending now. So, they’re probably panicking, and you’ll be getting a ton of irate calls really soon.” She chuckled. “This isn’t good. I’m already a horrible influence on you. Now you’re lying like me.” She shook her head but still laughed in an amused way.

  “I don’t care if they think I’ve run away and joined the circus.” He looked deep in her eyes and then examined her whole face. “Mari, I would give everything that I am, give up everything I own, to know all of you. I can’t ever have enough. And if it means I get in trouble, it’s worth it.” He’d sell his car if he had to . . .

  She swallowed, her eyes brightened and grew a little wide, then she sighed. “Good God . . .” she murmured. Her body slumped after that.

  He shivered. They were up in the mountains, so it was a good twenty to thirty degrees cooler here than in Phoenix. Back home, he was fine in a tee shirt and jeans, but here, he was gonna freeze. It was amazing how quickly he’d adapted to the Phoenix heat.

  “Where’s your jacket?” she asked, her eyes really troubled.

  “I . . . Uh . . . I sort of forgot to bring one,” he answered sheepishly. “But that’s okay. You’ll keep me warm by letting me be near you.”

  She opened up her sleeping bag. “Get in.”

  His smile broke so hard his jaw felt like it might pop. “I won’t take up too much room—I swear.” He pulled off his shoes and crawled in where it was nice and warm and smelled like Mari’s home. Like heaven.

  He snuggled into her side and she lay down, taking him with her. She shoved a backpack under her head and wrapped her arms around him. He lay his head on her upper chest, tucked right under her chin, and his arms wound under her thick jacket.

  “You’re warm and you smell like something delicious,” he told her.

  She chuckled, making his head bounce. “That’s how you smell, you sweet man.” Her top hand ghosted up his spine, and she stroked back and forth across the tops of his shoulders. He purred and wiggled deeper into her hold. She hummed, and every now and then, her fingers would drift up the nape of his neck, making his whole back explode in chills. When she’d twirl the ends of his hair around her fingers, whimpers would escape him, and he’d get awfully sore.

  Back and forth she’d go. He was a mess—so relaxed he wanted to sleep, but too wound up with heat flooding particular parts of his body.

  “I really like you,” he said.

  “I really like you, too. Probably too much for your own good.” She chuckled again, but this time it sounded dark and remorseful. “Go to sleep. We’ve got hours on this hard ground before the line’s gonna go anywhere.”

  “When they find me, you won’t let them take me away, will you?” His voice shook.

  “I wish I had that much control over your life, but unfortunately—”

  He lifted his head to look her in the eye. “But you do, Mari, you do! You’re becoming my numbers. You’re all I see in my head most of the time. But with you—it’s safe. I have more control.”

  Her eyes grew round for a second, then she pulled his head back down to her chest and played with his hair, scratched at his scalp and remained quiet.

  “I really, really like you. I want to be with you more than I get to,” he reiterated.

  “Shhhh . . . Sleep, or I’m calling Samara to come get you.”

  He nodded and nuzzled into her neck. For a second, he thought about what it might be like to have her like this in his bed at home.

  But that though
t left as his lips touched her neck. He kissed her, but one wasn’t enough. The smell there at her pulse drew him in.

  So he landed several more, and before he knew it, he was kissing her mouth, inviting his tongue inside and she was humming again, but this time it wasn’t a song.

  She pulled the sleeping bag up over their head and the kisses grew needier, heavier—moister.

  Her hands roamed over his back, his hips, and she even grabbed the back of his thighs a few times, making his hips flex forward on their own. She made a tormented sound when he’d do that and then she’d kiss him harder.

  He didn’t know what to do, so he followed her lead.

  If she groaned, it sparked a fire that would ripple through his belly and run straight down and end mid-thighs. That whole area was pulsing with vibrant heat. He loved the way she was making him feel, so he did it again.

  She made that same tiny sound, overwhelming his senses. His hands tugged at her hips to get her closer where he needed the friction. One of her legs suddenly wrapped up around his hip, and her ankle tucked between his legs from behind. She was really open . . . right there.

  His body moved up and down, his tongue moved the same way his soreness did, and moans emanated out of him.

  He stopped for a second to catch his breath. “This is how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? This good feeling in my whole body—it’s how a man can feel with a woman. Nobody ever told me this part.” He nipped at her jaw.

  She yelped, then chuckled. “It’s not always like this, because it depends on who you’re with and how you feel about them.”

  “How do you feel about me? Does this feel as good to you as it does to me—because I can’t imagine ever feeling better than this—ever!” He stilled his hips to silence his body. Every cell of him had to hear her response.

  “That’s a complicated question—one I’m not sure I can answer.” He started to protest, to beg for more of a complete answer, but she shushed him by putting a finger over his lips. He kissed that finger. “All I can say is, in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve come to mean more to me than anybody I know.”