I scream in fright as Forrest comes bursting in, yelling at me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going home? You are supposed to tell me! There is no fucking security on that front door. I had to hear it from the Kentwall driver that you had been dropped off at home.” The pure rage pouring off him almost looks like it is mixed with intense fear on his face, and it’s directed straight at me.
“What is wrong with you? You scared the living daylights out of me. You can’t come barging into my room like that. What if I was naked!” I scream back at him because my anger and fear match his.
“I don’t give a fuck if you are naked, that’s better than being dead.” He waves his hands in the air at me.
“Now you are being dramatic. You all told me there is nothing for me to be worried about. Have you been lying to me, huh, have you?” Because although I’ve been freaking out in my head, I also reminded myself of how calm they all were and that they said it was low-risk, yet he comes tearing in here like a lunatic, worried that I’m dead because I didn’t call him.
Forrest is standing there looking at me with such fire but can’t seem to find his words.
“Oh my God. You have… you lied to me. I can’t…” My feet start to move, carrying me backward into the bathroom. Everything I did to calm my nervous system is gone, and I’m falling into my spiral again.
“Harper, stop.” I can see him talking, and his voice is there, but I can’t communicate.
My chest tightens at the thought that someone out there is after me and it’s not just a trivial internet search. But the hurt in my chest is more than the fear.
It’s that he lied.
Just like my dad did.
Lies get people killed, that’s what happened to my dad.
My back hits the wall in the bathroom, and I can’t move any further, but Forrest comes toward me. Gasping for air, I manage to say just a few words. “I’m scared…”
“Of Chester?” he asks, and I don’t say a word.
“Of me?” he asks tentatively, and I shake my head frantically. I could never be scared of him.
He is standing so close now, I can smell him. It’s that smell that I wake to every morning. It’s hard to describe. It’s all man, and there is a hint of sweetness to his cologne. I remember the night we were together, it was like a drug that I was addicted to.
“Words, Harper!” His hands land on my cheeks so I can’t move or look away from him.
“No,” I answer him tentatively in a word.
“Then what are you scared of?” His voice softens, his thumb now stroking my cheek, and it hasn’t even registered yet that his touch isn’t freaking me out.
“Lies. They’re dangerous.” My voice is fragile, and I hate that about myself. I made a vow a long time ago never to be weak again.
“You are safe with me. I promised that I won’t let anything happen to you, and I’m a man of my word. Surely, you know that by now.” There is something about his voice that centers me.
“I don’t want to be like this.” I straight out tell him my fears. For some reason, I trust this man more than I have ever trusted another person besides Felisha. I’m close with my sisters, but I have kept so much from them to protect them, and this is part of me that I don’t ever want them to know about. It may be the big sister in me or just that I’m vain and don’t want anyone to see me differently to the image I have portrayed for so long.
“Let me in, Harper, share your fears with me.” Leaning forward, he kisses me on the forehead in the softest sweetest touch that has me tingling.
I want to open my life to him, but I can’t. It has been wrapped so tightly inside me for so long, I just don’t know how to unwrap the layers.
“No one needs to see the mess I am behind these walls,” I murmur.
“That’s where you are wrong. I see you more than you realize. But I’m not going to push you.” Forrest releases my face from his hands and takes one step back from me. “You have to want to do this on your own. Not because I force you or you feel obligated in any way. When the time is right, I’m here.”
I wish I knew who this Forrest was. The kind, compassionate, and strong man who just wants to make everything okay for me.
With a few more steps backward, he turns to leave the bathroom, and as he steps into my bedroom, he looks over his shoulder.
“But for the love of God, can you please message me when plans change? I’m expecting speeding tickets from that trip home. I couldn’t get here fast enough. You promised me last time, and I can’t take the stress every time.” He gives me that little half-smile he has perfected, where one side of his lip rises, and then turns his head again and continues walking toward my bedroom door that he almost destroyed as he barged in here.
“Why do you care so much, Forrest?” I call after him and have no idea why the words have come out.