Page 89 of Sins of the Father

“Harper, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just lost,” she quietly admits.

I close my eyes, relieved to hear her voice. “Stay put. I’m coming to get you now.”

I don’t wait for her to respond and hand the phone back to Vivian. “Watch Hope until I’m back,” I tell Anna, who nods.

Her face looks so painful.

I attempted to find out the story about what happened to her but was quickly redirected and told to drop it. I was so worried about Harper I didn’t push. My guess is Mitch did it. Chase’s hand is also in a cast so I can put two and two together, but I’ll have to find out a different day.

I hope Chase left Mitch in a body bag.

She better not go back to him.

I race out of the penthouse. The entire way, I’m trying to figure out what Harper would be doing in a pawnshop and why she would have gone this far into the southside.

As soon as the car stops, I leap out and go into the bar.

The room is half full, and Harper’s long brown hair catches my eye. She sits nursing a glass of wine, talking to Dawn Golding, who is in the nonprofit world. I know her well from the charity work my company is involved in.

I stand behind Harper and lean down to her ear. “Thank God you’re okay. What are you doing here?”

Her body stiffens, she finishes the rest of her wine, and spins in the bar seat. “I’m sorry you had to come get me. My purse got stolen—”

“How did that happen?”

“I was walking back—”

“From here? In the dark?” I bark, appalled that she would do something so dangerous.

She quietly says, “I didn’t know it was a bad neighborhood.”

“Did you look around?” I growl.

She puts her hand on her hip and glares at me. “No, I actually didn’t look around. But so your haughty self knows, this isn’t any different than my neighborhood in New York.”

I step back, stunned. “Well, you’re never going back to that place.”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t living in a neighborhood anything like this one.”

“Don’t tell me what I will or won’t do. And stop being such a snob. Just because you don’t know what it’s like to live anywhere besides penthouses and luxury apartments doesn’t give you the right to look down upon those who do.”

“I’m not looking down on anyone. And I know what this neighborhood is like because I grew up in it,” I bite back.

“Then you shouldn’t be such a snob.”

Silence.

Dawn clears her throat. “Steven.”

I release a breath and turn. I kiss Dawn’s cheek. “I’m sorry. Excuse my bad manners. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Do you want a drink?”

“No, thanks. We’re watching Quinn and Jamison’s daughter, Hope. We need to go.”

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