Page 198 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

She blinked, the memory of Hunter’s phone call sending a rush of hot tingles up her spine. “You know I’m not teaching today?”

Keith nodded. “We do.”

A lump filled her throat. “Is Mr. Sullivan angry? I swear, I didn’t mean for Ronnie?—”

Keith kissed her silent. “Shush. You’re not in trouble. If you want to press charges against him, you can. You should. We’ll be right by your side, but even if you do, you won’t have to deal with Big Mac again. Not alone. Never alone.”

“Youwillhave to deal with us though.” Marc grinned “If that’s okay with you?”

The jesting words made Harper’s heart fill with warmth. Until she saw the hesitation in Marc’s eyes. Until she saw the tension in Keith’s jaw.

Tell them. They need to understand what happened last night. If they don’t, they’ll draw their own conclusions and Ronald McNamara may not survive.

The lump in her throat grew thicker. She drew in a slow breath and detangled herself from Keith’s arms. “I need…” She paused. Drew another breath. “Come inside. I need to explain.”

Keith nodded. As did Marc. They followed her and more than anything she wanted them to thread their fingers through hers. To hold her hands, one man on either side.

How had she come to ache for them so quickly?

Stopping at the sofa, she lowered herself onto the middle cushion. Marc sat beside her, removing his hat to place it on the coffee table.

Keith sat in the armchair opposite, his eyes shadowed by his hat. She would never tire of seeing him wearing it. It defined him in a way she couldn’t understand. When this was all over, when she was back in the States reliving the moments with them, she would remember Marc’s devilish grin and Keith’s hat-shrouded gaze. She would close her eyes every night and conjure them in her mind, hoping the memory would become a dream.

Tight sorrow stabbed at her.

She hadn’t lied to Amy last night during her desperate midnight phone call. She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay here. On Farpoint. With the small class of children who made her smile. With the clean air, the endless skies, the warm days, the starry nights.

With Keith and Marc.

Letting out a slow breath, she folded her hands in her lap and looked at both of them. “When I was almost ten, my mom divorced my dad and married a prick called Ross. My stepfather spent a year sort of grooming me for…” She stopped and dragged her fingers through her hair. “I was young, but not so much that I didn’t know the way he touched me occasionally, as if it was an accident, was…wrong. His hands always brushed my chest, my hips. He always needed to get a glass when I was standing at the kitchen counter, and he would press his groin to my back while reaching for one. Whenever I was in the bath, he would need to use the bathroom. He’d always tell me to close my eyes while he peed but I knew he didn’t close his. I told my mom I didn’t like it, but she didn’t believe me. She said I was being silly.

“When I was almost eleven, my mom went out with some friends and left me alone with him. I was scared. My boobs were growing and he kept looking at them. All the time. I called my brother and begged him to come, but Andrew was busy…”

She saw Keith’s frown turn to a dark glower and held out her hand. “Andrew is ten years older than me. He’d only just turned twenty-one a few weeks earlier. He was going out with his buddies, clubbing. I understand why he said no.”

“Did he know about your stepfather?” Marc’s voice was flat.

She shook her head. “Not really. Just that I didn’t like Ross.” She sighed. “Andrew told me I would be okay. To go to my room and watch TV. I did. I even pulled my old Barbie house in front of the door a little, to make it harder for someone to come in.” Her throat seized up and for a moment, a horrible moment, the words wouldn’t come, drowned in the memory of that night.

“He…” She stopped, closed her eyes and knotted her fingers together. “My stepdad pushed the door open. He…touched…” She scrunched up her face, fighting the memories even as she tried to recount them. “He touched me. Between my legs. Made me touchhim. I was scared. So scared. I tried to stop him but he started to push me flat onto the bed. He was crushing me.”

“Jesus, love,” Marc whispered.

She lifted her head, showing them her tears. “And then Andrew was there. I heard him coming up the stairs. I heard him punch Ross. And then my brother scooped me up and carried me away from the house and I never saw my stepfather again. Andrew raised me. Protected me. I’m the woman I am now because of him.”

Cold rage warred with anguish in Keith’s eyes. He hadn’t said a word. Beside her, Marc gently opened her clenched fists, threading his fingers through hers. She looked at him. “Andrew made me the woman I was before I came to Farpoint,” she said, her heart a steady rhythm in her ears. “But the woman Iwantto be, the woman Icanbe…” She lifted a shoulder, returning her gaze to the silent Keith. “You two found that woman inside me. She’s brave and adventurous and fun. She doesn’t want to be crippled by her stepfather’s vile abuse anymore. She doesn’t want to have the best thing in her life ruined by painful memories. She wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for you both. And I like her. I like her a lot.”

“We like her too, Harper,” Keith said. “So bloody much.”

She laughed, a choked sob of happiness. Lifting her hand, she wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffing. “I must look like a mess, I know. I slept in my clothes. I haven’t brushed my hair…or my teeth since yesterday. And I’m sure I’ve got raccoon eyes after all the stupid crying I’ve done but…” Her belly fluttered. “But will you make love to me, please? I want to feel you inside me. I want?—”

It was Marc’s kiss that silenced her this time.

His lips claimed her mouth, gentle at first then playful. He nibbled on her bottom lip, flicked his tongue along her teeth. She laughed, the sound close to a moan as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest to his.

The sofa cushion dipped and then Keith was beside her, his warm, strong hand smoothing over her hip, down her thigh. Her heart quickened when he slipped his fingers under the hem of her dress, tracing slow circles up the bare expanse of her flesh, higher, higher, dipping over her upper thigh until he brushed the curve of her sex.

She wasn’t wearing panties. She’d planned to surprise them last night at the pub, whispering her secret before wriggling her butt at them as she walked to the bar and ordered the next round of drinks.

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