Page 53 of Deafened By Silence
"Quiet back there!" Hargreaves shouts, his whiteboard now a blurred landscape of arrows and brackets. I sink lower in my seat, covering my mouth behind my hand.
“Now that you mention it,” I mutter low, my cheeks aching with the need to laugh. “You could give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?” Rhys shoots a death stare at the side of my face,
“Hard pass. If you want sappy shit, you know where to find it,” Rhys leans forward and glares in Clayton’s direction. Clay’s throat bobs, his temper working its way to the surface. I give him a sly wink until Rhys uses his grip on my nape to jerk me back forward.
“Focus. I’m here for your sake, not mine.” I bite down on my bottom lip, mustering the sarcastic response that dances on the end of my tongue. Rhys won’t realize it, but that’s probably the most romantic thing he’s ever said. Settling into Hargreaves’ bland drone, I make vague notes, scribbling random words that might be relevant in a future assignment, but let’s face it. My attention is on those shifting in closer, a millimeter at a time. Rhys rearranges his junk, pushing his thighs wider. Clay fakes a yawn and smacks Rhys’ arm off the back of my chair.
I’ve been trapped between them like this before, but thankfully the tension is lighter now. Instead of being at each other’s throats, they’re resolute on being my sentinel bodyguards, warding off external threats. No one dares to look around for more than a second, giving me time to memorize each person in the room. Soon enough, my jottings turn into a list of names and in failing that, a brief description. After that, I start crossing out names that have no reason to harm me. Class ends as I cross out the last name, coming to a dead end.
Moving to pack my stuff away, Rhys grabs my notepad and tears the scribbled page clean out. I call out in protest, reaching for it back but he scrunches it up in his fist and tosses it aside.
“Stop worrying. I’ve got someone already on the case.”
“Who?” I frown, crossing my arms. I’ll be the first to admit I’m stubborn to a fault, preferring to save myself than rely on others, but something else about Rhys’ nonchalant shrug doesn’t sit right with me.
“An online hacker. Highly overpriced, but he’s the best there is. If there’s anything to find on the surveillance cameras, he’ll find it.” Under my careful watch, Rhys packs the rest of my bag and shoulders it himself, jerking his head to the exit. I might as well be wearing that collar I stung him up on. I hang back with Clay, my thoughts suddenly colliding.
A small voice trickles into my psyche, reminding me that there were two names I didn’t put on that list. Clayton and Rhys. Clay ruled himself out by being the one who rushed back to save me, and I know Rhys was supposedly outside smoking, but what if he wasn’t? What if I’m giving my trust far too easily to a man who, by his own admission, doesn’t deserve it? How convenient would it be to leave my digging in the hands of an anonymous hacker, especially if the man he’s tracking is the man sending the paycheck - if the hacker is even real. No, that’s ludicrous. I know Rhys, possibly better than anyone else, and I owe it to him not to think the worst all the time.
“Harper,” Clay gently shakes my shoulder. I blink, returning to myself. Rhys has vanished, taking my belongings and my phone with him. I open my mouth, stuttering until Clay links his fingers with mine. “Do you…I mean, is it what you want…the sappy shit?” he winces, his eyes looking everywhere except at me. The room has emptied out, leaving just us in the huge lecture hall.
“What exactly are you asking me?” I tilt my head until he has no choice but to stare into my eyes. Squeezing his fingers, I smile tenderly, yet the breath that saws out of Clay isn’t a light one.
“I can’t stand back and watch any longer.” His jaw tenses and I reach up to soften it. Clay turns his face into my palm, brushing his lips over my skin. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done things I’ll never be able to fix. I live with regret and shame on a daily basis. But I know deep down, I’m still better than him.”
I keep my mouth pressed closed, allowing Clayton the space he needs to speak freely. That, and I won’t be caught bad mouthing one of the men holding my interest to the other. They’re both damaged in their own right, and they cope differently. Clay shakes the tension from his shoulders and lowers my hand to his chest.
“I won’t make you any false promises, but I can show you the kind of man you deserve. The only kind that should catch your attention and have your heart one day. So, if you want, I’ll pick you up from outside your dorm tonight. Say seven o’clock?”
“Okay,” I reply simply, finding myself in a daze. Clay just asked me out. For a second, the whole lecture hall shrinks to the space between my palm and Clay’s chest, the steady thud of his heartbeat a perfect anchor for the storm brewing inside of me. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. Dizzying, exciting, a hint of anxiety. Not a constant migraine from being pulled here and there whilst a bucket of lust is dumped over my head.
He smiles in that quiet, almost embarrassed way he does and nods, before releasing my hands and starts to walk away. My mouth opens a few times with follow up questions but I manage to reign myself in. Be cool Harper. Cool, calm and collected. Clay pauses in the doorway, the hallway light catching at the edge of his jaw.
“Oh, and don’t worry about bringing your receivers. You won’t need them.”
Okay, now I have so many more questions! Luckily for him, Clayton leaves before any of them make it past my lips. I stumble forward on weak legs, feeling all too giddy for a girl who still needs to reclaim her shit from the campus bully. I hope Rhys isn’t intent on getting a rise out of me today because I’m too busy walking on cloud nine. It turns out I do want the sappy shit after all.
Chapter Thirty Two
Resting my arm against the back of her headrest, I reverse my battered old truck onto the road behind McAllister dorms. The thing rattles like it’s one pothole away from the scrapyard, yet Harper smiles from the passenger seat as if I can compete with Wavershit’s Porsche.
Crossing her legs, my gaze dips back to the knee-high black boots, the dark denim painted onto her thighs, the leather jacket pulled tight around her chest. Her hair is tied high with waves spilling over her shoulder like ribbons of magenta. A single curl frames her face on each side, and I just about manage to drive straight.
Harper is a vision of purity. I’d almost changed my mind about this date, halting her from entering the truck as if its cracked seats and rusty parts would sully her. As if going out with me isn’t going to tarnish her enough. Then I remembered that she shares Rhys’ company and figured she doesn’t give a shit about public image whilst I opened the truck door and helped her hop inside.
As campus and the sleepy town shrink in the rearview, I let out a breath that has been strangling me all week. I don’tbother with the radio, or any small talk that would be awkward for Harper to decipher in the passing streetlamps. I simply sit, nervously tapping my thumb on the steering wheel, the growl of the engine filling the cab. This is my first date. My first real chance to impress her.
All afternoon, I’ve been solely focused on planning where to take her, how to make her laugh, what it might feel like to hold her hand and never let go. Daydreaming kept me alive in the JDC, building a barrier between the heavy, cold locks and the reasons that put me there. But with Harper, those visions dig deeper. I picture myself as the kind of man who could give her everything, who could pleasure her in a way that Rhys won’t be able to compete with. Those fantasies are safer locked inside my head.
The reality is different. The reality is Harper sitting right here, eyes focused on the road ahead, no doubt trying to decipher where we’re heading. Remembering my promise to set the bar for all future dates, I slide my hand onto her thigh with a smile that feels foreign on my face. As usual, her body is so warm, radiating pure energy and an unbreakable spirit. If I had anything to give, I’d exchange it all to be worthy of someone like her.
The freeway signs loom, and I take the exit I memorized last night in the library. I can’t afford a GPS, but every junction is signposted and in no time, I’m pulling into a parking lot by a brick-built hall. I kill the engine and hurry out, circling around before Harper can touch the handle. Taking her hand to help her down, I keep it in my grasp as the night swallows the path ahead. There’s no moon tonight, only the lights surrounding a pair of large, double doors.
The lobby looks like a retirement home threw up on itself. Brown carpets, faded curtains, armchairs that quite possibly were stolen from a yard sale. A fish tank bubbles against thefar wall, the two fish inside appearing that look more depressed than the woman seated at a makeshift desk. A paper banner hangs limply over the folding table, the words ‘Silent Disco’printed in bold letters. Harper halts, her hand pulling from mine.
“Are you mocking me?” Her green eyes narrow. “I can go to regular disco's, you know.” My gut flips and I scramble for an explanation. Fuck, I knew I’d screw this up.
“No, no,” I shake my head vigorously.“Just trust me, please. Let me show you, if you don’t like it I’ll drive you straight back.”Harper raises an eyebrow skeptically whilst reading my words, gesturing for me to lead the way. Damn, I really hope I’m right about this. It’s not like I’ve got the charm, tattoos or smart mouth to fall back on.
