Page 1 of Laying it Bare on the Run

Chapter One

~Harper~

“It will be okay, Harper.” My older brother Vincent cupped my face as he tried to soothe my rattling nerves. “I’ve got this.” His blue eyes bore into mine; trying to reassure me this wouldn’t end badly.

But I wasn’t buying it. I shoved him away and tugged my hands frantically through my blonde curls before fixing him with my own set of blues. “No, you don’t and no, it won’t. We have to run, right this instant. Maybe if we can get clear across the country we can be safe enough to find someone who can help us. They have too many people under their control and in their pockets. We have to go now.”

He shoved his hand through his own mop of blond. “We don’t have time. They’ll be here any minute. But once they see I don’t have what they’re looking for, they’ll leave. I’ll let them turn this house upside down because I don’t have those pictures. And once they realize that, they’ll leave.”

Glancing around our parents’ cozy living room, I couldn’t imagine the tan plush couch cushions shredded or the wooden end tables and coffee table upturned and broken. The tan recliner my dad used to relax in while watching the evening news, I didn’t want to see it destroyed. “No, they won’t. And I can’t lose you too. They killed Mom and Dad and Lena. Please leave with me right now. Out the back door and we’ll just run. They won’t know where to start to look for us. Please, Vincent.” My voice wobbled at the end as unadulterated terror shot throughout my body.

“They’ll just track us if they find we’re gone when they get here. We’ll stay here and face them and show them we don’t have what they are looking for. Then they’ll leave. And we don’t know for sure it was them who killed our family.”

“I call bullshit. I know we didn’t witness it but if it wasn’t done by Waik’s hands, it was done by one of his dirty lackeys. And what pictures are they looking for?”

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have them so you don’t need to know about them.”

I was well aware I didn’t have time to argue with him about the fact that even if we didn’t have the pictures they were looking for Vincent knew about them. And once again he was trying to protect me by not telling me. Although I could guess: they were probably ones of them committing vile crimes. Evidence no one seemed to ever be able to get on them.

“And why is it that no one can seem to get any charges to stick to them. They’ve assassinated government leaders so they can get their own people in office, they traffick women, they smuggle in drugs; why aren’t they behind bars yet?”

“Because they kill their witnesses and are extremely clever about their doings.”

“That’s why we need to get out of here right now. We didn’t witness anything but I don’t trust they’d believe us. They’re monsters and they kill just for the joy of it.” My heart thudded against my rib cage threatening to explode out of it. I had to convince him to run.

Faint headlights flickered from the bottom of our long driveway. Vincent jerked his head toward the front window. “Shit, they’re already here. I thought I’d have more time to get you out of here.” After reaching into his pocket for his wallet, he grabbed a bundle of bills and shoved the wad of cash into my hands. “Use this to get as far away from here as possible. After they are gone, make a run for it. I’ll find you later.” He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead.

I stared at the money for a moment before tucking the bills into the front pocket of my jeans. “You’re lying. They’re going to kill you.” I choked out the last two words and tears welled in my eyes before slipping down my cheeks.

“It’ll be alright.” Fear flashed in his eyes briefly before they shone with determination. “Where can I hide you?” His face brightened. “The crawl space beside the bookcase.”

On the other side of the front window stood a stone fireplace and a bookcase built by my father sat beside it. For reasons we can’t be sure about, our house contained a small hidden crawl space beside the bookcase. We had thought it was to hide slaves before the start of the Civil War but Tennessee had been a slave state. Although I guess there still could have been a few people against it and willing to hide escaped slaves. Growing up, it had given me a warm sense of contentment in my heart to believe we had lived in a home that had possibly been a safe house to those who were searching for freedom that they should have had all along. But at the moment, all serenity had evaporated as our home felt like anything but one today.

Wedging his fingertips into the barely visible seam in the wooden panel, Vincent quickly pulled open the trap door and had me slide inside and duck down. I was tiny – barely five foot two – but it was a cramped space even for me. “Don’t make a sound. If I have to go with them, you run as soon as you hear the cars drive off and I’ll come find you later. If I can get rid of them, we’ll decide on another plan. I love you, Harper.” He closed the panel.

And I was engulfed in darkness except for a pea sized hole, which I immediately shoved my face up to so I could keep an eye on him. In a matter of seconds, our home was invaded by five men. All bulky builds with slovenly greasy hair and cold eyes which scanned the entire living room. Vincent had backed away from my secret spot and pretended to be fussing with something in the fireplace.

“Ah, Vincent. Are you ready to hand over those photographs so this doesn’t have to get ugly?” Waik, with his slicked back black hair and beady dark eyes, crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at my brother from across the room. His four goons stood stock still beside him, guns in their hands which hung lazily at their sides.

“I don’t even know what pictures you are talking about. I don’t have anything of yours.”

Waik tsked and shook his head. “Where is Harper? We were hoping to see her beautiful face here with you. She’s a stunner like your mom used to be. So sorry to hear about your parents and younger sister. Tragic.”

My brother stiffened at the mention of our deceased family. “She had errands to run so wasn’t able to join us. I’ll tell her you asked about her.”

“We’ll just wait for her to return. We need to talk to her too.” Waik narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I think she’s here, hiding.” He gestured with his head to the two goons at his right.

Without hesitation, they hurried out of the room. A few moments later, bangs, crashes, and glass shattering filled the house as their footsteps thudded throughout our upstairs.

Waik stood there as if he were a king and had every right to be invading and wrecking our home, eyeing my brother for a reaction. To my brother’s credit, he didn’t so much as flinch and as long as they kept their search out of the living room his fear of my being discovered would remain off of his face.

I closed my eyes briefly. They were destroying all we had left of our parents and youngest sister.

Then the stomping of feet down our staircase preceded the two bastards’ re-entry to the living room.

“She’s not upstairs.” One of the thugs grunted as he wiped his hand over his red face.

Waik redirected his attention back to my brother. “We can make ourselves at home to await her return. I have nowhere to be.”

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