Page 59 of Hide and Seek
Both of the girls laugh, and just as I get them out to my truck and manage to get Izzy into the backseat, Harper leans against my door, propping out her hip and smirking at me as though she knows something I should know. “The joke’s up, Knight. You followed me here, didn’t you?” she questions, narrowing her gaze as though she’s trying to catch me out. “I’m not mad about it.”
Something twists in my gut, and an uneasiness floods through my veins. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“In the club. That was you, right?”
I shake my head. “Do I look like the type of man who spends his Saturday night in a club?”
Her brows furrow, and she almost looks sad. “So, it wasn’t you?” she questions, her shoulders slumping. “I could have sworn. He’s tall just like you. Bossy too.”
My stare narrows, and I step into her, gripping her chin and forcing her stare on mine, not liking where this is going. “What the fuck are you talking about, Harper? Who’s bossy? Is this your stalker you’re talking about? Was he there tonight? He talked to you?”
She presses her lips into a hard line and nods, guilt flashing in her eyes. “You’re mad.”
I clench my jaw and try to put my frustration aside, knowing now isn’t the time to get into it, especially when she’s barely able to string a proper sentence together. “Why would I be mad at you, Morticia?”
She grins and glances away. “Because I let him do naughty things to me again.”
My face falls as my heart hammers right out of my fucking chest. “You did what?” I ask. “Wait. Again? The fuck is that supposed to mean? You’ve seen him twice and let him touch you?”
She giggles, but the giggles quickly turn into hiccups. “He likes to play dirty little games and say naughty things in my ear. I thought—”
“Fuck me,” I breathe, stepping back and pushing my hands through my hair. I pace in front of her, not understanding how she could let this happen, but more than that, how could she not tell me? This happened twice and she hasn’t said a single thing.How the fuck am I supposed to protect her from this asshole if she’s letting him have his way with her? Fucking hell.
“You let him touch you?” I clarify, already burning with questions that are going to have to wait until she’s not intoxicated.
She bites down on her lip and looks at me with such guilt it’s almost heartbreaking. “I thought it might have been you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Harper. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I demand, suddenly understanding what the fuck happened to her underwear.
Her bottom lip quivers, and I immediately feel like an ass. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” I tell her. “But I’m not this guy. I’m not him, and he sure as fuck will hurt you, Harper. You can’t let this happen. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen this? It never ends well.”
She rolls her tongue over her bottom lip and glances away, her tone lowering to almost a whisper. “But I liked it.”
I blow out a heavy breath, having no fucking idea how I’m supposed to navigate this. All I know is that this situation is escalating, and sooner or later, he’ll get what he wants from her, assuming he hasn’t already had enough, but when he does, he’ll end her life.
“Come on,” I say, “get in the truck. I’m taking you back to my place where I can keep an eye on you, and in the morning, we’re going to talk about this.”
Harper groans and lets out a heavy sigh, but thankfully wanders her ass around to the other side of my truck and climbs in. I reluctantly get in as well, and the moment I turn on the truck, Izzy falls asleep in the backseat, her soft snores filling the cab.
Just fucking great.
It’s a short drive back to my place, and yet the heavy silence makes every passing second feel as though it’s dragging on. Harper doesn’t say a word the whole drive, and I keep my mouth shut, trying not to rip into her about allowing this asshole to put his hands on her.
There’s got to be more to this story. Harper-Rayn is a smart girl. I don’t believe that she’d just willingly let this happen, no matter how good she thinks it’s going to be. Not even if she truly thought it was me.
By the time we reach my home, there’s no waking Izzy, and I have no choice but to haul her over my shoulder. As Harper gets to her feet and tries to walk, it’s clear that this isn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped.
Harper squeals as I toss her over my other shoulder and stride into my home. If I’m lucky, my neighbors aren’t watching me bring two intoxicated women into my home. I can only imagine how this looks.
Taking them down to my spare room, I put the girls on the bed, and Harper immediately crawls across the sheets, helping take off Izzy’s shoes. Once she has the blanket pulled up to her chin, Harper gets to her feet and wobbles across the room, disappearing into the bathroom. She emerges a few minutes later with her hair down and most of her makeup scrubbed off.
Her outfit smells like a bar, and I get her yet another shirt before leaving her to it and getting myself ready for bed. I go to the bathroom and wash my face before standing at the sink, bracing my hands against the cool porcelain and wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do.
I can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. I don’t need to protect her from her stalker, I need to protect her from herself.
Finishing up in the bathroom, I peel my shirt off and make my way to bed, but when I tug the blankets back, Harper is alreadycurled up inside them. I stand and watch her for just a moment, hating how much I like her there. Knowing this will complicate things for me so much more, I climb in behind her and pull her straight into my arms, letting her curl up on my chest, and hoping like fuck I don’t fall in love with this girl.
