Chapter 13
I’m not like them
Kazimir
After too many yawns, followed by too many apologies for yawning, Harley padded upstairs to the guest bedroom on the third floor. She’s been through the wringer.
It’s only ten-thirty—way too early for me to sleep. I change into gray sweatpants and a white long-sleeve t-shirt and ready myself to go back down to my office to catch up on the day. I’m sure I have a long list of urgent things that require my attention.
My phone rings.
I snatch the device off the console and accept the video call.
Erik’s face fills the screen.
“Sorry I didn’t call you back. I didn’t respond to your voicemails or texts, because summarizing this day warrants more than just a few lines of reply.”
“Things didn’t go well at Grazie Mille?”
“Everything went according to plan. étienne Leveaux was arrested before the restaurant opened its doors for the lunch service.”
“Good on you for putting the crook out of commission,” he says. “Were you able to get in touch with Harley? I can’t imagine étienne was agreeable to divulge that kind of information once the police had him in cuffs.”
“With the help of the owner, I got in touch with her.”
“How is she doing? Did she find another job?”
“She didn’t. And this day rail-rolled her. But now that she moved in with me, it alleviates some of the stress she’s been under.”
Erik tilts his head to the side. “Come again? Harley Lancaster moved in with you? Why?”
I fill him on today’s tumultuous events.
He rubs a hand over his face. “Holy shit. That’s insane.”
“Thank God I had the PI team I hired to dig dirt into étienne still on retainer. Harley gave me her keys and I was able to let them into her apartment so they could take photos of every inch of the dump she lived in.”
“What does the landlord have to say?”
“She’s still waiting for a call back from him.”
“Damn, I hope he’s not giving her the runaround.”
“Maybe he was inundated with calls from freaked out tenants of his dilapidated apartment building.”
Erik squints. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything?”
“I know that look, Lindstro?m. Don’t bullshit me.”
“I had a long chat with Alina earlier today. Devlyn is at it again—”
“Don’t think I’m not onto you. You’re diverting the subject, but since we’re talking about your nightmare of an ex-wife, I’ll let it slide. What did the drama queen do now?”
I share all the details.
“This woman needs to find a new hobby,” Erik says.
“I’m exasperated by her antics.”
He arches a brow. “I’m willing to bet my fortune, Alina brought up the topic of a fake—”
“No, no, no. Let me go.”
My eyes fly up from the screen.
Harley?
“What is it, Kaz?”
“It’s—”
“I don’t know anything. I wasn’t involved. Let me go. Please, let me go.”
I frown.
“Kaz?”
I lower my eyes to the screen. “I think Harley is having a nightmare.”
“Oh, shit. She’s been through so much. It must be the stress—”
“Stop. Please, stop.”
“Is that her again?”
I nod. “Let me call you back. I’m going to go check up on her.”
“Good idea. If you can’t call me back tonight, let’s connect tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
I end the call and rush to the guestroom, open the door and turn on the light.
“Please, stop.” Harley’s little body thrashes on the bed, her head whipping left to right, her long, blonde hair covering her face.
Jesus.
Do you wake someone who’s having a nightmare, or would that exacerbate their trauma?
I’m paralyzed, unsure of what to do.
“I’m not like them. I’m not like them. I’m not like them.”
Who is she talking about?
I approach the bed.
Her arms and legs are fighting with the sheets.
“Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Harley lets out a piercing scream that takes ten years off my life.
She snaps awake with a sharp gasp, sits upright in bed, her eyes wide.
I sit next to her.
She stares at me as if she doesn’t see me.
I grab her face into the palms of my hands and angle her head so her eyes lock onto mine. “It’s okay.”
She still has that glassy look in her eyes.
I brush her damp hair off her face. “Do you see me?”
Nothing.
“Harley?”
She blinks twice.
“It’s only the two of us in the house,” I say. “No bogeyman.”
She intakes a sharp breath.
“Ka— Kaz—” She dissolves into tears.
“You’re safe, Harley.”
Her breathing is labored.
My pulse races, thumping against my temples. “You had a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up. I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, and already, I’m a terrible roommate.”
“Shh, you didn’t. I wasn’t asleep yet. And for the record, you’re not a terrible roommate.”
She shuffles closer to me on the bed, and I wrap my arms around her.
She’s shaking like a leaf.
Her sobs intensify, and her body jerks with her cries.
‘I’m not like them.’
Was she having a nightmare about vendors demanding to get paid after Ellen and Qi bailed out on her?
‘Please, don’t hurt me.’
Did someone try to hurt her or was it just a bad dream?
Fuck, I want answers, but pushing the matter when she’s this vulnerable and reluctant to open up, would make me an asshole.
The only thing I can do now is hold her, so I do just that.
Several minutes later, she pulls away from me.
“Do you want a glass of water?”
She nods.
I rush to the hallway bathroom, grab a glass from the cabinet, fill it with water, and return to the bedroom.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her the glass.
“Thank you.”
Her dried tears left track marks on her face.
The sight causes me to bunch up my hands into fists.
Her business partners need to be punished for their cruelty.
She places the empty glass on the nightstand table.
“You should try to fall back asleep.”
She nods, but she remains seated in bed.
My eyes swing to the armchair and ottoman located in the corner of the room, near the window, before returning my attention to her.
“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do then babysit a grown woman.”
I frown. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
She responds with a shy smile. “Thank you for doing that. You’re the best roommate a girl could ask for.”
Given her past roommates, that’s a low bar.
“Let me make sure the doors are locked. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here when you get back.” She lets out a little laugh that does nothing to brighten her eyes.
I’m back in the guest room in no time. “Do you want me to leave a light on?”
She shakes her head. “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“You can turn the lights off.”
I do.
I make my way to the armchair, grab the blanket and unfold it, kick off my slippers, and lift my legs onto the ottoman. I shift a few times to find a comfortable position before covering my body with the blanket.
When I glance up, Harley is staring at me in the night.
“Go to sleep, Goldilocks.”