by Liv Morris
I move the cover to the back of the journal and begin to read the new poem out loud.
Love.
It can break hearts and make messes out of orderly lives.
Love.
It’s the particles of dust that remain hidden in the air until light shines and illuminates them.
Love.
It’s a captor, and I’m its prisoner.
Harlow’s painful turmoil weaves through each line. Even without reading between the lines, I know she’s writing about this unexplainable attraction we have to one another.
“It’s fucking beautiful, Harlow.” I stare intensely at her. “Raw and profound.”
“Really?” She appears shocked by my assessment. I wonder if anyone has ever read her words.
“Really.” I hold up two fingers in a pledge. “Remember when I said I would never deceive you? I meant that.”
“Thanks.” Her face beams at me. “I’m horrible at talking about my feelings, but they pour out on the page when I write.”
I imagine what more encouragement might bring in her writing. A class in creative writing would be wonderful for her, and I want to make it happen. Maybe that online class she mentioned is something I can help her with. It’s the least I can do to get her going in the right direction.
“I owe you so much, Sin. Where would I be if you hadn’t visited Rochester? You helped open my eyes. I can’t believe how stupid I was.”
“You aren’t stupid. You trusted a very sick man.”
Harlow places a light kiss on my cheek and the ghost of her lips hums over my skin. Our connection is nothing short of electric. I want to tell her she’s awakened something inside me, but I refrain. I don’t know why, but I do. Maybe I am still processing the changes I feel since I walked off the airplane and saw her waiting for me with that crazy sign in her hands.
My late friend, Craig, once told me when he saw his girlfriend for the first time and their eyes locked, he knew she was different. Hell, she was a knockout, but there was something about her that stood out to him besides her looks. He said the universe had spoken and there wasn’t any way to go against it. I used to laugh at his crazy talk, but he said someday he would have the last laugh when it happened to me.
I can’t help the slow smile crossing my face as I think of him looking down and laughing at me now. I’m not saying I’m in love or anything crazy like that. There are too many unanswered questions standing between Harlow and me. For one, she’s here and I have to attend med school in a few weeks in New York City. Maybe this unexplainable attraction was only meant for a short time, when she needed me the most. But I can’t ignore the unsettled feeling I have when I think about never seeing her once I leave this city.
And then, there’s Henry, my romantic doorman, with his gentle warning that love would find me one day. I’m afraid he would be laughing at me, too.
“Oops.” Harlow giggles as her stomach growls.
“When was the last time you ate? You haven’t had anything other than bottled water since you got sick at the penthouse.”
“I had an apple while I drove to the pawn shop, but I’m starving now.”
“Order whatever you want from room service.” I nod my head toward the desk with the phone and hotel information. “You should find the menu on the desk.”
“I’ve never ordered room service.” Harlow rises to her feet and bounces to the desk.
Who knew ordering room service could make someone giddy? I’ve been doing it since I learned to use a phone, thanks to my mother. Yet Harlow, this complex yet simple young woman, knows nothing of the life I’ve lived.
“Have at it. Order any and everything, as long as you get me a cheeseburger with fries and a tall glass of milk.”
“Milk?” She shakes her head at me.
“I’m a growing boy.” I wink back, rise to my feet, and move toward her. She reacts to my pacing by walking backward toward the desk. She gives me a smirk and licks her lips.
“Is that so?” She flirts back with a little swing of her hips.
I rush at her and she tries to turn and run from me—to where, I don’t know. I booked a suite, but it’s still on the small side. I chase after her and take her in my arms. Laughing, I spin her around in a circle and set her back down on her feet. She’s a flushed, giggling mess of blond waves and tempting curves. I kiss her forehead, targeting it as her safe zone. If I get close to her lips again, I might push her beyond the point of no return. I’m not willing to gamble with her heart. It needs protecting.
Hey, I’m not a saint, but with Harlow, I’m not the old sinner I used to be either. Sex without strings or meaning doesn’t appeal to me concerning her. Sure, I want her body in all ways, but I want it whole and healed—when she’s completely mine, not the still-fresh-from-his-house fiancée of my uncle’s. The day may never come for us, but if I’m lucky enough to know her when she’s ready, I’ll be waiting for her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sin
I walk down a long corridor toward James’ office. The white sterile walls and gleaming floors speak to the spotless reputation of this hospital—world-renowned. The physicians and staff are the crème de la crème, because they can type “The Clinic” on their resumes.
But behind the shiny façade lurks a cancer—a man who preys on the weak instead of healing them. Who shows sympathy to families while yielding no mercy to those he supposedly loves. Thankfully, his tangled web of deceit ends today.
I pass a few white coats scurrying to their next patient or appointment. A few people nod at me, even though I look out of place in my dark jeans and leather jacket. A couple nurses give me more than a quick glance, but no one asks who I am or what I’m doing here. Maybe it’s the I-dare-you smirk on my face, or the stride of a man on a mission. Both keep me untouchable until I stand before James’ door.
A couple deep breaths and it’s show time. I knock hard and wait for a response. I hear a muffled, “Come in,” and turn the doorknob. I control this meeting—or, more like confrontation.
I called him. I set the time and place. I am in the driver’s seat, and boy, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
The lights are off. After my eyes adjust to the darkness with only a little light coming from a blind-covered window, I see my uncle leaning against his desk. He’s sitting on the edge with one foot still on the ground, like he’s ready to stand at any given second.
“So, let’s get this over with,” James drones, holding an icepack to his jaw where I hit him at the lake. I don’t feel even the slightest twinge of remorse. He deserved that punch and maybe another one or two on top of it.
“Sit down,” he commands, and steam rises from my forehead. How dare he boss me around? The fucking asshole.
“I don’t think so. You’re the one who needs to sit down and shut up.” I move to stand in front of him with my arms crossed over my chest. I note his shoulders slumping as he rounds the desk and takes a seat in his chair. He is the exact opposite of the man who sat across from me in his home office where he reigned as King James. Before me sits a man on the edge of defeat.
“Okay.” His voice still has too much bravado in it. He’s not ready to surrender yet. “Tell me what you know.”
“For the second time. Shut. Up.” I want to cuss his damn head off or threaten to clock him again, but anger isn’t going to do anything but make me look weak when I have the strongest hand in the room. From the slight touch of fear I see in his eyes and the worry lines appearing on his face, he knows I do too.
James tosses the icepack on his desk and throws up his hands. The bump on his jaw, already a black bruise, will be hard for him to explain, but it’s not my problem.
“I’m all ears,” he huffs.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. All ears and no lip.” I pace in front of his desk for a few seconds while he watches and waits. Stews in expectation. Marinates in worry.
I want him nervous. I want complete control. I’m probably taking too much pleasure i
n this escapade, but he abused someone dear to me and he’s going to pay.
“Let me begin with a little story.” I stop in front of James as he sits at his desk. He pushes his chair back and rolls his eyes. Still the cocky bastard.
“Stories are for children,” James spouts.
“Like you. So button it.” I place my palms flat on the desk and lean over like a dark, menacing towering. His smirk just melts into a frown.
“Once upon a time, I went to boarding school and became best friends with the heir of an American safe empire.” James’ eyes grow slightly wider as he processes what I say. “His family is interconnected throughout this country with locksmiths and retail safe companies.”
James pushes himself to a stand and matches my position. I pull away, stand tall, and stuff my hands in my pocket, preparing for an onslaught as James’ face turns red and the veins on his forehead pop. He’s furious.
“What the fuck? You broke into my safe? I should call the cops.” He pounds a fist on the desk and I brush what might be some of his spit off my sleeve. How dare he?
I pick up the receiver from his desk phone and try to hand it to him. “Be my guest. I’ll even dial for you.”
Instead of taking the phone, he plops down in his chair, defeat written all over his face.
“I didn’t think so.” I place the receiver back in its cradle with a loud click.
“Okay. I’m listening.” He exhales the words as the fight seems to leave him. Creases and lines on his face that I missed before stand out boldly. He looks years older in mere seconds.
“To continue my story, documents were faxed to an attorney in New York City. They will remain with that attorney if you follow three simple rules. There will be no arguing or negotiating. I have the backing of your mother behind me, too.”
I called Nina on the walk over to The Clinic. We discussed what was in the best interest of Harlow and The Clinic. Not to mention, other women who will cross James’ path in the future. His fate is sealed.
“My mother? You called Nina?” I look directly into his tired blue eyes and nod.
James lowers his head and his shoulders sag. He knows the gig is up. He has been exposed. For some reason, it took the mention of his mother for all of this to sink in. Perhaps he views me as the meddling nephew, but Nina … she’s the hand that rocked his cradle. Maybe deep inside that boy still exists and needs the approval of his mother. Who knows what goes on in his twisted mind.
“Here are the rules.” I go quiet for a few moments, until his eyes look back up at me.
“One, you will never make contact of any kind with Harlow again. Not a phone call, email, letter. Most definitely not in person. You don’t exist in her world anymore. Agree?”
“I loved her, for what it’s worth,” James confesses as tears form in his eyes. “She was the best thing I’ve—”
“Stop! I’m not here to discuss Harlow or your feelings. Got it?” I couldn’t stomach any more of his lies or wallowing. “I need your answer or I call the attorney. Do you agree to never bother her again?”
“Yes,” James whispers.
“Louder,” I demand.
“Yes. You win. I’ll never see her again. Good enough?”
“That’ll work.” A slight smile breaks free, though I try to contain it. This rule means the most to me. I could almost walk out the door and be done with him here, but I promised Nina two more things.
“Two, you will take an immediate leave of absence for one year and enter a full time inpatient center. Nina will choose the place. She’s already on it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s career suicide. I’ll lose my position here for sure.” Fury seeps from James’ every pore.
“It will be the chance you have to take. The other choice will leave you likely stripped of your medical license for life.”
“Six months?” James pleads.
“What did I say about negotiating?”
“All right. All right.” James leans his elbows on the edge of his desk, then covers his face with his hands, like he is ashamed, and he should be. His behavior is reprehensible.
“Three, you will have ongoing weekly visits after your inpatient period is finished. Nina will receive weekly updates from your doctor visits.”
“So, I’m signing over my fucking life to my mother?” James shakes his head and eyes me.
“You’re getting to keep the life you’ve been leading with who knows how many countless women a secret for now.”
To be honest, I have no faith he will follow either of these last two rules. The first one he better, or he will regret if for the rest of his life. I’ll make sure of that.
James’ lips form a tight line. I know these last two rules are a tough blow to his ego and the control he normally possesses. It’s like asking a junkie to give up his last fix.
“Fuck!” James yells before throwing a coffee cup against the wall behind me. Broken pieces of the cup crash to the ground.
The door to his office flings open and a woman enters. “James, darling, are you okay?” She stops dead in her tracks when she sees me staring at her. Her eyes glance back and forth between James and me. I’m assuming she’s a doctor by the white coat encompassing her frame. What I find telling is how she addresses James. Darling?
“I’m fine, Rose. Leave,” he nearly shouts. The poor woman scurries out the door, shutting it behind her.
“Another conquest? How could you cheat on Harlow?” I fist my hands at my sides and think of sweet, trusting Harlow. I close my eyes and count while taking a few breaths.
“You have no clue. I have tastes that Harlow doesn’t yet.”
“Enough. You’re a sick bastard. Nothing you say will make it right.”
Again, I pick up the receiver on his office phone, but this time, I hand it to James. “Who do you need to call to inform the hospital you need to take personal leave?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me? Now?” James cries out in total frustration. I smile back at him and nod.
“Now.”
He pushes a few keys on the phone and waits.
“Hi, Natalie. This is Dr. Elliott. May I speak with David? Sure, I’ll hold.” James taps his fingers on the desk as he waits, a nervous action so unlike his usual controlled demeanor. I love it.
“Put it on speaker phone,” I demand. “I want to hear each and every word.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harlow
“So, let me get this straight,” Emma pauses and takes a sighing breath, “James knew you before your mother was killed and he’s had you watched every day for months?”
Emma sits on the bed next to me, shaking her head in disbelief as I tell her the still hard to fathom details of James’ stalking … even after I was living with him. That part of the story makes me wonder if I’ll ever quit looking over my shoulder. It’s like a slap in my face that has snapped me out of some deluded spell. My desperation served as my denial, but no more. My eyes are wide open now, thanks to Sin.
“Yes to everything. We found the clues in his downtown penthouse.” I point to the box with my name on it calling to me from its place on the desk.
For some reason—maybe fear—I haven’t opened it since Sin and I checked into the hotel. Now that Emma’s here, I’m ready to see what might be inside it … I think. She knows my history, my mother, and me. No one on this planet can fill those shoes right now. She’s the closest thing to family I have.
“Creepy,” Emma says, enunciating each syllable. “What’s inside?”
“After we found the documents from the private eye, I haven’t dug deeper, but I need to. I think I was waiting for you.” I reach out and grab her hand. She presses my fingers together with a gentle squeeze and gives me a reassuring smile, one that says she’s here for me, and I thank God for this fact. “I had this sickening feeling when I looked at the contents earlier.”
“Because James is sick. And here I thought you found someone to help you get past what
happened to your mother. I knew something crazy was up with him when he would never let you talk to me. At first, I thought you were just busy being in love. I should’ve listened to my gut. I’m so thankful you’re finally away from him. Do you worry he’ll try to get you back?” Emma’s eyes widen in concern and my stomach turns into a million knots.
As long as I live here in Rochester, I don’t know that I will ever stop worrying about him. But I can’t tell her about the legal documents and other women. Sin told me never to mention it to anyone. It’s all the leverage we have to keep James away from me while protecting Sin. If the truth leaked, we could both be targets once again. It’s a shield of protection and hopefully my freedom.
“I’ll go crazy if I focus on the what ifs. I need to figure out how to live my life on my own.” I try to sound convincing to her and myself.
“I’m here for you. You know that. Have you thought about where you’ll live?”
“I’m going to try to get my old job back at the restaurant. I made decent money. I have enough for a deposit on a small apartment too. It’s a start.” I muster up a smile and try to hide the uncertainty my plans have laced in them. I called my old landlord and moved my appointment to see him to tomorrow. He said he would keep the studio on hold until I see it. I want to be brave and face my future with my head held high, but the only solid anchor I have in my life will be heading back to New York City soon. I try to push this thought out of my mind, reminding myself I don’t need a man to find myself, even if that man gives me strength I didn’t know I had.
“My lease with Ashley is up in a couple months. I love her, but she snores so loud, I can hear her through my bedroom wall. Maybe we can move in together. God, I’d love that. What to do you say?” Emma’s enthusiasm is hard to refuse. I don’t recall a time I was able to stay no to her, even when I knew better.
“I think I have to sign up for at least six months, though.” Emma tilts her head at me and her eyes look like she’s scheming. Oh no. This look usually spells trouble, but I can only smile back at her.