“It’s not that I think you’re not safe. I know it.”
“Explain, tell me, make me understand because right now you look more like the person trying to hurt me than anyone else.”
With a loud exhale of breath, he starts to speak, “Remember at the rehearsal dinner when I bumped into the waitress, making her fall and your food went everywhere?”
“What the hell does a waitress tripping and dropping my food have to do with you kidnapping me?”
“It has to do with the fact that someone was trying to poison you. I saw someone put something in your food as it was being brought out.”
I blanch, the realization of what he’s saying sinking heavily in my stomach.
Grasping at straws, I say, “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe you saw wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not wrong, Harlow. I’ve been protecting you for a long time, and I’ve been doing this kind of work even longer. I’m trained in this kind of stuff, and I saw someone put something in your food. There is no wrong when you witness it with your own eyes.”
Oh, god, maybe he isn’t wrong. Maybe I am. Maybe someone is trying to kill me. It makes sense, the brothers told me someone was trying to hurt me, but I never wanted to believe it. Why would anyone want me dead?
“Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell my father?” I yell while moving toward the door.
I’m scared and angry. I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt me. After everything I discovered tonight about my father, and the Bishops, there is very little room left inside of me to deal with anything. I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally.
“Because I don’t know if your father was involved or not. I need more information.”
All of this is insane, completely insane. As badly as I dislike my father right now, I need to go to him, to tell him what happened, there is no way he could be involved, is there?
“You need to take me back right now,” I order, but Milton continues driving like I didn’t say anything at all. “I mean it, take me back!” I’m seconds away from kicking the back of his seat to get his attention.
“I can’t, and I won’t. I told you it’s not safe.”
Clutching a hand to my stomach, I feel the overwhelming need to vomit.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere that you will be safe.” Great, that doesn’t tell me anything. Folding my arms over my chest, I just sit there pouting like a teenager, because really, there is nothing else I can do. Not with the car going down the highway at sixty miles an hour.
I need him to stop so I can make a run for it. Deja vu settles in my mind, that was my plan the last time I got kidnapped. Didn’t work out that great then, but what else can I do? It’s not like I stand a chance fighting a man who is twice my size and works as a bodyguard, but I’m not going to let this happen without, at least, fighting back, the stakes are too high.
We drive on the two-lane highway for a while longer until Milton suddenly puts his turn signal on and switches lanes to take the exit. I perk up, my eyes catching on the rest stop sign in the beam of the headlights.
Keeping my lips firmly together, even though I have a ton to say, I wait for the car to stop. With enough adrenaline pumping through my veins, I reach for the handle just as the car comes to a stop. But all my plans change in an instant because before I even touch the handle, the door opens for me.
The cool night air rushes into the car. On instinct, I jerk back at the large dark figure that’s magically appeared in front of me, blocking the exit.
A tiny squeak slips past my lips when he bends down and starts to climb into the back seat. Oh, hell, no.
Lifting my foot, I’m about to kick this bastard in the face when my eyes catch on a familiar pair of chocolate brown ones. Oliver.
“Oliver…” I gasp as I lean back in the seat. I’m caught between wanting to hug him, and throat punch him all at once. When I see his trademark smirk that usually makes my insides tingle, anger wins out. All I’m feeling right now is simmering rage.
“Were you in on this?”
He had better not be, though, I’m certain he was.
“In on it? Baby, it was my idea,” he chuckles.
Yup, definitely want to punch him now.
“You didn’t actually think we were going to let you marry that asshat Matt, did you?”
“It’s not your choice, and you don’t know the danger you’re putting all of us in by doing this… again.” My heart starts to break all over again. Every time I think I’m moving forward, learning to let go of the feelings I have for the Bishop brothers, one of them decides to reappear in my life.
“Drive,” Oliver orders when he is in the car.
Milton throws the car into drive and pulls out into traffic. Oliver reaches for me, his fingers interlace with my own, and I can’t bring myself to disconnect from him. I need his touch, need the warmth of his skin. It’s like it gives me strength.
“We have evidence against your father. Leverage. You don’t have to marry that prick to protect anyone. You aren’t under your father’s thumb anymore.”
My face falls, my eyes move to where our fingers are joined. I don’t understand how. I couldn’t find any evidence, nothing to stop my father from hurting the Bishops. If I don’t go back now…
“Stop thinking, I can see all the thoughts running through your head. You’re safe, we’re safe, nothing is going to happen.”
Looking up into his brown eyes, I ask, “How can you be sure?”
Even in the dark, I can feel his eyes burning a path over my skin.
“I thought you would be happy to get away from him,” he whispers in defeat.
Moving closer to him, I lift a hand and force him to look at me. “I am, but I’m scared. I don’t want my father to lash out at you or your brothers for this. I can’t let anything happen to any of you.”
“And we can’t let anything happen to you either. Besides the whole scam marriage thing, you weren’t safe there. Someone is trying to hurt you.” The pain in his voice cuts through me like razor blades, and all I can think about is making him feel better. Crawling into his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face into his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around me, crushing me to his chest. All I can hear is the heavy thump of his heart in my ear as it beats against his chest, his intoxicating scent filling my nostrils.
I spend the rest of the drive cradled in Oliver’s arms, forgetting that Milton’s in the car completely. I’m so content that the exhaustion wins out, and I don’t even realize that I fall asleep until Oliver wakes me up with a gentle kiss to my forehead, we’ve pulled up in front of a hotel.
“We are here,” he murmurs into my hair as I stretch my arms.
“Where is here?”
“We’ll stay in this hotel, for now, there is security everywhere, and no one would expect us to be here. It’s safe,” Oliver promises. He takes my hand and helps me out of the car. We close the car door, and Milton drives off to who knows where. Right now, I’m too tired to care. Oliver leads me inside, and only then do I realize I’m wearing pajamas. Luckily, there is no one in the lobby when we pass through. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s still dark outside, so it must be very early in the morning.
We ride the elevator up to the ninth floor, the ding of the door opening wakes me up a tiny bit more, but by the time we are walking down the hallway to our room, I’m half asleep again. Oliver has an arm wrapped around my waist, and I’m leaning into his side, my legs are getting heavier with each step.
He stops and swipes a card through the door lock, making it click open. Together we enter the room, which looks more like an apartment. There is a large kitchen that opens up into a living room with a sitting area, huge TV, and even a fireplace.
“Wow, this is nice…”
My words are trail off when what I assume to be the bedroom door opens, and two familiar faces enter the room. Oliver releases me so Banks can pull me
into his arms. He holds me tight for a few seconds, burying his face into my hair, breathing in my scent as I do the same with him. A calmness overtakes me, all the anxiety, fear, and sadness fading away.
He releases me and lets Sullivan have his turn. Sullivan circles my waist with his arms and hauls me up against his chest, giving me a bear-like hug.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers against my hair, his breath tickling the fine hairs on my neck.
“You saw me yesterday,” I giggle.
“That’s too long, we need to see you every day,” Sullivan replies thickly.
“Hey! I didn’t see her yesterday, so move along…” Banks complains, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Sullivan. “You look tired. Do you want to go to bed?”
The right thing to do would be to stay up and talk to them since I need to know what kind of evidence they have against my father, not to mention telling them about the things I found in my father’s desk and what happened with Shelby in the office.
There are so many questions that need to be answered, so many things that need to be said, but all I can think of doing right now is closing my eyes and falling asleep.
Exhaustion is winning out, and after everything, I need some time to rest my brain.
Nodding my head, I admit, “I could go for a couple hours of sleep.”
“Yeah, you look pretty tired,” Sullivan says, admiring my face.
“Thanks,” I say, laughing softly, “I have so much I want to talk about, but I’m dead tired. Like dead to the world.”
“Sleep, then we can talk.” Banks leads me into one of the bedrooms, and I fall on to the bed, the soft memory foam mattress swallowing me up as I sink deeply into the cloud-like material. A heavy blanket is pulled up to my chin, the weight of it against my body, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open.
I’m vaguely aware of Banks sliding into the bed next to me, and I sigh heavily when his arm snakes around my waist, and he pulls me back against his chest.
His warmth engulfs me, and with his steady breathing against my neck, I feel myself drifting off into the nothingness of sleep, wondering if when I wake up, this will all have been a dream.
Waking up the next morning, it takes me a few seconds to wrap my head around where I am. I’m in bed with not one but two of the brothers.
Banks still has his arm wrapped around me, his face buried into my neck. Oliver is lying on his side next to me, his brown eyes meet mine and hold my gaze.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. “It feels like it’s been an eternity since I last saw you, and all I can think to do to make the ache hurt less is be near you.”
I can’t help myself. I reach for him and watch with anxious butterflies as he scoots closer until our faces are only an inch apart. I can feel his hot breath against my lips. I want to kiss him so badly it hurts, but the hunger flickering deep in his eyes tells me that it wouldn’t stop with just a kiss, and we need to talk before we do anything else.
“What kind of evidence do you have against my father?”
“Milton recorded a meeting between your father and Xander Rossi, do you know who that is?”
“Yes,” I admit, a small shudder runs through me at the memory. “I recently remembered overhearing a conversation between him and my dad years ago.”
“Milton took a huge risk, but luckily your father never had a reason not to trust him.”
“Why is Milton doing this? How did he even start working with you?”
“He actually came to us,” Banks says sleepily from behind me.
“Sorry we woke you,” I say, twisting my head around to meet his eyes.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind waking up as long as you are in my arms.” Banks pulls me closer into him, and I can feel his hardened length pressing against my cheeks.
“So, Milton came to you?” I say a little flustered but trying to stay on subject.
“Yes, when you came back to Bayshore after your accident. He told us that he had been on your personal detail for a long time and that he couldn’t stand how your parents treated you and lied to you.”
“He disagreed even more with you marrying Matt,” Oliver cuts in. “He didn’t like how your family were pushing you into that marriage, and he knew Matt was an asshole with only his own gain in mind. So, he helped us keep you safe.”
I suddenly feel horrible for not even calling him by his name for weeks. I was kind of a bitch to him when all he was trying to do was keep me safe, and not because my dad paid him to do so, but because he actually cared. I make a mental note to apologize for my behavior the next time I see him.
“So, what are we going to do now?” I ask curiously.
“It’s up to you,” Oliver says. “We have two choices. We can either go to the police with what we have, or we can use it as leverage to get your dad off your back.”
I don’t answer right away, I let both scenarios run through my head, both have huge risks, neither one is great. I’m not sure what’s the right thing to do here, but I know one thing. Before I make a final decision, I need to talk to my father, I need to know about Phoebe and the connection between my father and George Bishop.
“Before I can even think about that, I need to tell you what I saw in my dad’s office last night. I need to tell all three of you.”
32
“Your dad and Shelby?” Sullivan asks, equal amounts of surprise and disgust lacing his voice.
“I don’t know what I’m more shocked about. Shelby having an affair with your father or our dads being friends,” Banks adds. “Even if it was a long time ago, I just can’t wrap my head around it.”
We are all sitting in the living room of the enormous hotel suite, and I just got done telling them about everything I saw last night. About my dad having an affair with my best friend, as well as the pictures and the love letter in the desk.
“Who do you think Phoebe is? You think she could really be your mother?” Oliver asks carefully.
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “I need to talk to my father.”
“We got a burner phone, you can call him from it, but you can’t tell him where you are or that we are with you. Not until we’re sure that he is going to leave you alone,” Banks warns as if I would do either thing.
“Got it.” I reach out my hand, and Oliver places a phone in it. When I look at the screen, I realize it already has a number pulled up. “Is that my dad’s?”
When Banks nods, I hit the dial button and put in on speaker, so the guys can hear too. He answers after only two rings.
“Hello,” his voice comes through the phone, and I can already tell he is aggravated by the deepness of his tone.
“Dad, it’s me.”
“Harlow, where in the world, are you? We have been worried sick. Are you with those Bishops again?”
“I saw you and Shelby last night,” I cut my father’s rant off, rendering him speechless for a few seconds.
“It’s not what you think.” My father tries to talk himself out of it.
“Hearing you fuck my best friend on your desk is pretty much confirmation, don’t you think?”
“Jesus, Harlow,” he says, sighing into the phone. “Okay, it is what you think, but I swear we never meant to hurt you, it just happened.”
It just happened? I don’t understand how that can just happen, but I don’t think long on the matter. I don’t care who my father fucks.
“Who is Phoebe?” My question seems to render him speechless once more. Proving to me just how important this Phoebe person is.
“How do you know that name?” he asks after a moment, his voice changing into a weird tone, almost nostalgic.
“I found the pictures and the letter in your desk,” I explain.
“I can’t do this over the phone, Harlow. Come home, and we’ll talk. I’ll explain everything to you.” At my father’s words, all three guys shake their heads no.
“I’m not coming home. Not tod
ay and maybe not ever again. Not after you tried to force me to marry someone for your own gain.”
“I want you to marry Matt for your own good, not my own gains. Everything I’ve ever done was for you. Why is that so hard for you to understand or see?”
I roll my eyes so hard, I swear, I see my brain.
“It’s hard to believe you when I know you’re working with the mob. You are a criminal, and even worse, you made me into one too, when you had me plant drugs on Sullivan. Was that for my own good as well? Was it just training for a future job? For college?”
“We can’t talk about any of this on the phone, Harlow. You need to meet me so I can explain everything. You don’t know the whole story, and I’m not going to let you believe some lies that those Bishops are telling you.”
“I have proof, you know. Proof that you are working with Xander Rossi.”
“Harlow, listen to me. Do not get involved in this. Xander is not someone you want to mess with. If you have any involvement with him, anything against him, you need to destroy that proof right now.”
“I’m sure you would like that.”
“Harlow, this is not about me,” my father’s voice grows more frustrated. “I’m serious, you don’t want to mess with Xander.”
“I’m not destroying the evidence against you. I’m keeping it so you can’t blackmail the Bishops or me ever again. I want to know more about Phoebe, but I’m not meeting you.”
“Then I guess you will never get any answers—” The line goes dead, and for a moment, I just look at the phone in shock.
Did he just hang up on me?
Dumbfounded, I look up at the guys. “I need to go talk to hi—”
“No way,” Oliver says before I can finish my sentence, his face stern and his arms crossed over his chest.
“I agree,” Banks cuts in his eyes narrowing. “It’s not safe.”
My gaze swings to Sullivan, and I already know his answer is going to be no, as well. It’s three against one here, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I need answers, all of them.
“What if you all come with me? Or Milton? Or everybody?”
The Bayshore Rivals: The Entier Series Page 30