Chapter 14
Harper
I jerked as blood sprayed over my face and chest, choking and shaking as the man dropped to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Gram demanded, still holding the pistol in both hands as she hurried toward me. “Harper! Are you okay?”
“I’m—” Turning my head, I vomited all over myself and the floor.
When I lifted my head, there was someone standing outside the back door. I screamed, and Gram shifted, aiming at the door. Slowly, she lowered her pistol.
“It’s just your Uncle Woody,” she chastised, rushing to the door.
“The fuck happened?” he demanded as he stepped inside. “Who is that?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Gram shot back, setting the pistol on the counter. “How the hell did he get in my house is what I’d like to know.”
“I’ll find out,” Uncle Woody said grimly. “He didn’t mess with your system because the panic button worked just fine.”
I was frozen. Blood was pooling on the floor by my feet. The man’s limbs were twisted this way and that, and I could see a large hole where the bullet had exited his skull.
“Harpy,” Uncle Woody called, stepping around the body to get to me. “Hey, girl. You okay?”
“She’s not hurt,” Gram said, her voice shaking. “Thank God.”
“He was going to shoot me,” I said, confusion clouding my head.
“Well, he isn’t now,” Uncle Woody replied. “Come on.”
He put his arms around me gently and walked me over to Gram on the other side of the island.
“I’m fine,” Gram said into her phone. “Harper’s fine, too, but you need to come home right now.”
She paused.
I could still see the man’s feet sticking out from the other side of the island. I couldn’t look away.
“Some asshole broke in and was pointing a gun at Harper.” Pause. “No, I don’t fucking know who he is. Come home.”
I’d never seen a dead person before. Not like that. Not freshly dead.
I swallowed as my stomach heaved, threatening to empty what was left in there.
“What did he say to you, Harp?” Uncle Woody asked, leaning down to look in my eyes. “Did he tell you why he was here?”
“He said I pissed someone off?”
“You know who he’s talking about?”
“No idea,” I replied faintly. “Will you call my dad?”
“Casper’s gonna call your dad,” he replied kindly. “I bet he’s already on his way here.”
“I think he was just crazy,” I said, glancing at the shoes again. He was wearing sneakers. That seemed weird for some reason. If you were going somewhere to shoot someone, it seemed like you would wear boots.
“What?” Uncle Woody asked.
“You hear about that stuff, you know?” I said. “Some guy passes a woman on the street and gets it into his head that she’s wronged him or something. Maybe that was why.”
“Could be,” he consoled.
“Come here, doll,” Gram said, pulling me into her arms. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“I tried to give you time to leave,” I mumbled into her shoulder. “But he made me keep walking.”
“You did exactly what you should’ve,” she replied, smoothing my hair down the back of my head. “You called out.”
“I didn’t scream.”
“Sometimes, you’re so startled, you don’t.”
“I screamed when I saw Uncle Woody outside.”
“Well, by then you were already prepared,” she said logically. “Woody, get her a stool to sit on before she falls down.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted as they sat me down.
Moments later, the sound of Harleys broke the night.
Dad was the first through the door, a pistol in one hand and my mother’s hand in the other.
Then my grandfathers. Uncles and cousins. They just kept coming, crowding into the room, mostly silent.
“Will, Mick, Rumi,” Grandpa Dragon called softly. “Check the property and find his car.”
They turned and left without a word.
“Gotta stop findin’ you with blood all over your face,” my dad joked gently, his hand on my chin. “Where you at?”
“I’m okay,” I replied as her mom wrapped her arms around me. “I was going to text Mom that I was staying with Gram tonight, and he was just standing there inside the front door.” My chin trembled, and I clenched my jaw to stop it.
The room was so silent, I could hear Gram sniffling across the room.
“He was already in the house?” Dad asked, tilting his head to block my view of Gram. “Then what?”
“He did this.” I lifted my finger to my lips. “And shooed me back this way. I was walking backward because I didn’t want him behind me—”
Dad nodded as Mom’s arms tightened.
“And I yelled for Gram.” I glanced at her again. “And then he pointed his gun at me.”
Dad’s nostrils flared as he nodded again.
“I asked him why he was here, and he said I pissed someone off,” I recounted. “But, I swear I don’t know what he was talking about, Daddy. I—I work in an office. I don’t have any crazy ex-boyfriends or anything like that. I don’t know what he was talking about.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it, Harpy,” Dad said softly, brushing my hair out of my face. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
There were too many men in the house for me to see the dead man’s feet anymore, but I could picture them in my mind clearly.
“First, I’m gonna take these,” Dad said, reaching for my glasses. “Get ’em cleaned off so you can see better.”
“Thanks,” I rasped.
I sat there, my mom rocking me carefully from side to side as the men began to talk. Someone grabbed cleaning supplies and began working out of sight. The elders talked quietly by the back door. Uncle Woody left.
Gray rose from where he’d been crouching on the other side of the island, his face expressionless. He rounded it and came straight to me.
“You good, baby sister?” he asked, squeezing my knee.
“Yeah. Is Gram going to get in trouble?”
Gray jerked in surprise. “For what?”
“Shooting that guy,” I replied. “Killing that guy.”
“No,” Gray replied easily.
“But—”
“No, Harp. Gram won’t get in trouble.”
“She didn’t have a choice—”
“I know,” he said with a firm nod. “It’s over, okay? Anything from here on out doesn’t have nothin’ to do with you. Understand?”
“No,” I replied honestly.
Gray’s mouth quirked up at the corners.
“Here you go,” Dad said, sliding my glasses back on.
The front door opened, but there was so much going on in the kitchen that I couldn’t see who it was. Dad turned to look.
“Where is she?” Bas demanded. “Harper?”
His voice was frantic. Panicked. High and trembling. He shoved through the men until he was standing just a few feet away.
Tears filled my eyes as he stumbled to a stop.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered.
Then he dropped. Just dropped. The floor vibrated as his knees hit the tile.
I was on my feet without thought, brushing off my mom’s arm as I tried to reach him.
“I’m okay,” I said, tears dripping down my cheeks. “Bas, I’m fine.”
“What the fuck happened?” he asked, glancing toward the body. “Jesus, fuck, what happened?”
“I just—he came in and—” I started to blubber as his hands found my hips.
“Everyone out,” Grandpa Dragon ordered. I barely heard him.
Sliding my fingers into Bas’s hair, I held him against me as he pressed his face to my stomach. He tugged me down to sit between his bent thighs, and I inhaled the scent of rain and leather and Bas as he shuddered.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat like that, but eventually my dad, Grandpa Casper, Gray, and Uncle Woody came back into the room speaking quietly.
Bas rose to his feet, lifting me with him. He didn’t let me go as he turned to face them.
“Woody’s got a fingerprint reader,” Dad explained, jerking his head toward the little device. “Gonna see if he’s in any of the databases.”
“Why does it matter?” I asked tiredly. Everything felt a little foggy, like I couldn’t quite grasp any thoughts. My hand was fisted so tightly in the back of Bas’s shirt that it was beginning to cramp.
Grandpa Dragon stepped into the room. “Take her back to the clubhouse,” he ordered Bas. “Lily, too.”
Grandpa Casper walked over to Gram’s purse that had spilled out all over the counter and plucked out a set of keys, tossing them to Bas.
I couldn’t look away from the tissues, wallet, lip gloss, mints, loose change, scrunchie, and other random bits. Somehow, Gram had the instinct to grab the pistol she carried in her purse just from me calling her name.
Bas held the keys for a moment and then looked at Grandpa Dragon.
“Take ’em,” Grandpa ordered again.
Bas must’ve been following what was happening better than I was because he tossed the keys back to Grandpa Casper. “You’ll want her car in the garage,” he said quietly. “If that’s the way you’re playing this.”
“Could argue that she left it at the club,” Grandpa replied.
“Not worth the hassle,” Bas said.
Grandpa nodded.
“Can you sit on a bike?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, of course,” I replied shakily.
“Titus can bring Lily,” Bas offered.
Just then, Rumi, Will, and Mick filed in the back door.
“Found the truck,” Will said, his voice heavy with meaning. He glanced at me. “Had a fuckin’ winch even though that thing had never been in the mud.”
“We took photos, but we didn’t touch it,” Will added.
“Take ’em,” Dragon ordered Bas.
Dad stepped in my path and kissed my forehead, even though I knew I was still covered in the stranger’s blood. “I’ll be there in a while.”
Bas led me through the house, and as we passed the men standing around, they quieted. Mom met us at the front door, my purse on her shoulder.
“Ready?” she asked, looking me over.
“Titus,” Bas called. “We need to take ’em back to the club.”
“I’ll ride with you,” Cian announced. He disappeared into the kitchen, but by the time I was seated behind Bas, he’d caught up to us.
I only vaguely realized that none of us were wearing helmets, and that was because I had to press my face against Bas’s leathers to keep my hair out of my eyes.
We didn’t even pause when we reached the gates, the prospects rolled them open just enough for the bikes to file through and then closed and locked them again.
The clubhouse was always open. Any time of day, you could find someone inside. The lights were rarely turned off, there was usually hot coffee in the pot, and more likely than not there was music playing.