32. Harper
HARPER
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
As far as new mantras go, it could be worse. It’s all-encompassing and gets the point across in a clear delivery. The only thing missing is smacking my forehead with each word to make sure the message burrows into my brain.
Unfortunately, I look pathetic enough perched on this stool, I think bodily harm would send the rest of Gus’s patrons running for the hills.
After my mind replayed the moment my life imploded for the fiftieth time, I decided I needed something to make the loop in my head stop. Now instead of a movie, it’s just me running through a list of all the signs I missed. There are so fucking many.
“I mean he told me he wasn’t as innocent as I thought he was, that he had his own demons, right?
I mean he tolddd me!” I say to the stranger next to me as he struggles to stand from the stool without toppling over.
He doesn’t answer, just looks through me like he can’t tell if I said anything or if he’s hearing things.
All for the better, no one needs to hear this bullshit right now. I wish I didn’t have to hear this bullshit right now. Maybe this is the moment to buy an island and say fuck it. How much is an island? Or maybe a cabin in the woods in some remote snowy location? Colton hates the cold.
A deep grumble stirs me awake before a thick arm wraps around my middle and tugs, dragging me to the center of the massive bed. Colton nuzzles into my neck, my back flush with his chest, every contour of my body filled by him.
“You fit perfectly, Sunshine,” he rumbles in my ear, snaking an arm under my side between me and the mattress to join the other already wrapped around my midsection, pinning my arms down in the process.
He pulls tighter and before I can register his plans, he strikes, burrowing his freezing toes between my legs, reaching as close to my locked thighs as he can.
I let out a yelp at the frigid contact that has him howling with laughter into my hair.
“You tricked me. Pretending to be all affectionate just to use me for warmth!” I keen at him, my voice pitched high as the cold seeps into my body.
“You keep this place at like sixty-five degrees. This is the price you pay for insisting that it’s better to be cold with blankets than a little warm,” he argues. I stand by my decision. Who would rather be too warm when trying to sleep than be all snuggled with a blanket? Insanity.
I open my mouth to once again state the facts of the case against me when his hand moves from my waist to trail along my outer thigh, playing with the waistband of my underwear.
“I thought we got rid of these last night. You know the rules, Sunshine,” he purrs against my neck. I do know the rules: no clothes in bed. I also like when his hand cracks against my backside, reminding me when I forget to follow them.
“Oops,” I say, feigning innocence as I shift my ass back to remove the space I created trying to avoid his icy touch. “Guess you’ll have to remind me.”
I stare at the drip of condensation, snaking its way down the glass in front of me to pool on the sticky bar top. He was so convincing. So damn convincing.
I drop my forehead next to the glass. Maybe Gus will let me just sleep here. He can clean around me, and I’ll wipe my drool from the bar top before I leave.
I feel a body sit next to me, the scratch of the stool irritating my already fragile temperament.
“Harper,” the mystery voice says, deep and commanding, obviously expecting me to look up and greet them. Fat fucking chance.
“Shoo,” I mumble back, not even pretending to lift my head to see who is bothering me.
“Harper, you can’t ignore me,” he says, this time putting a hand on my shoulder. This does make me react, shifting up quickly throwing off the arm with one hand and swinging the other around to bring the tip of a small blade to the newcomer's throat.
Wade’s gaze connects with my own, hands up on either side like he’s reassuring a feral cat that he isn’t a threat.
Everyone is a threat right now.
I don’t drop the blade from under his chin until he lifts a brow, silently asking if I will entertain whatever he came here to say.
I bring the blade back to my side, not snapping it back into the handle just yet. He might say something nice about he who shall not be named. That would deserve a little stabbing.
“Do you want my opinion”—he gives me a side glance before signaling to Gus for another round—“or do you want to just drink in silence?” He’s cautious, but not patronizing as he gives me the option.
“That depends,” I say, turning back to stare at the rows of bottles lining the back of the bar, “do you have anything nice to say about the snake?”
“Nice might be a strong word. I feel bad for him,” he says, eliciting a derisive scoff from me. Fuck tact. How can he feel bad for him? He lied. He manipulated. He made me fall.
“Fine, drinking in silence it is,” I growl, downing the last of my glass as Gus drops off the fresh order.
“What he did, how he handled things between you and him…” Wade starts, shifting in his seat so his elbows rest on a dry patch of bar. “He messed up. There is no doubt in that. He should have told you the minute the relationship crossed that line, when he knew he was in love with—”
“He doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” I cut him off, jaw clenching to the point of pain.
“Harper—” he starts, pleading me to look at him. But I’m busy trying to count how many types of vodka Gus serves now. I only get to four before he tries again, switching tactics. “If you want to be mad, that’s fine, but don’t be stupid.”
A poorly executed tactic, but at least he’s trying.
“What did I do? I had no way of knowing—”
“You do not leave without your bodyguard. I let it slide before because he was with you, and I’m happy my instincts knew he would be able to protect you, but you do not leave again by yourself.
If you want to go get drunk? Fine, I’ll sit at the bar with you.
You want to bungee jump? Fine, we jump together.
You want a girls’ night? Fine, but I get to pick the snacks,” he cuts me off.
A lecture I wasn’t expecting, but for some reason this is what will carry me over the edge.
He looks at me imploringly, not as an employee, but as a friend.
He was worried at not knowing where I was, evident in the finger he levels at me, “I should not have to blackmail Sadie into telling me where she thinks you would go. You do not get to be stupid just because he was. Do you understand?”
It might be the alcohol, but I let out a choked sob, the damn breaking as I stare at my bodyguard, my friend, who isn’t mad at me for letting a wolf among the herd, but because I was reckless in the wake of that discovery.
I feel my body let go, the effort to hold onto this anger wilting away.
Tomorrow I can be angry, tomorrow I will rage and channel that anger into finding answers.
But right now, right now I need to simply be sad.
A sensation I never thought I would want, to wallow for a time and mourn what I thought I had.
I lean forward and just rest my forehead against his sternum, arms hanging limply at my sides, shoulders sagged. I look defeated, and that’s exactly how I feel.
His whole body tenses, clearly unprepared for this kind of a reaction. Neither was I. I focus my energy on breathing, borrowing his strength in an effort to keep it together while my chin wobbles in defiance.
After a beat I feel the stool under me shift and in the next second Wade’s arms are wrapped around me.
I came here to be alone, to drink and distract myself numb. I came here to forget, but apparently, I didn’t know what I needed.
“I trusted him, I let him in, I—” Another broken sob escapes and Wade’s arms tighten a fraction.
“I know. I know Harper,” he replies, but I’m already shaking my head against his chest, tears falling freely now.
He doesn’t understand, how could he. I left my trust with the wrong person again.
I let the people in my life down again. I let Sadie down again.
She had to sit there, listening to that agent force her past upon her, call her a junkie.
Painting us as the criminal sister duo they all believe us to be.
I wanted to kill him. I would have killed him, but when everything was said and done, Sadie only said one thing to me before leaving Cirque, “Mine.”
The revenge was hers to claim, and I would let her deal with it however she wanted. How could I argue, when this whole thing was my fault to begin with?
“I knew better,” I whisper against Wade’s chest, sure that his plain black t-shirt is now patterned with highlighter and smeared mascara.
Wade sighs deeply before answering, “It doesn’t matter what we think we know, people can always surprise you. But someone else’s choices and actions will not stop you from living.”
He doesn’t say it as a question, it’s a fact. That this will not break me. But I feel broken.
“You don’t understand, I can’t even escape him now. I have to walk into work in two days and act like I’m fine,” I tell him, “How am I supposed to be fine.”
He chuckles softly, his body vibrating with the laughter. He wraps his large hands around my shoulders, peeling me away from his body until we are eye to teary eye.
“I do understand. I understand more than you know, so believe me when I tell you that you will survive this. You will see him and you will stand tall.”
It’s one of the only times Wade’s hinted at his past, romantic or otherwise and despite my desire to press him for information, I understand what him sharing means. So, I keep the nosy desires to myself and ask the question I already know the answer to.
“Do you regret it, loving them?”
He answers immediately, no hesitation as the ghost of a smile touches his features in memory of that love.
“No. I could never regret loving her. I thought for a long time I hated her for what she did to me, for how she betrayed me.”
“But you don’t hate her?” I ask, again already knowing the answer. There is still a reverence in the way he speaks of this mystery woman, a mixture of wariness and affection.
“No, I don’t hate her,” he shakes his head slowly.
“Do you still love her?” I ask, needing to hear him say no.
That you can’t love someone who hurts you like this.
That loving someone who can lie and manipulate you is wrong, unfathomable even.
I need him to tell me that she isn’t worth loving, that he is over it.
That his heart doesn’t still call to hers.
I need him to tell me no.
This time, the pause feels like big enough to span a lifetime.
He doesn’t break eye contact, doesn’t try to shy away from the prying question.
In this moment I realize how similar we are, not just in heartbreak, but in the way we chose to put ourselves back together.
Focusing on work, careers, family, anything to avoid feeling like this again.
He said I would survive this because he did.
I don’t want to just survive this, I want to move past this, move past him.
Wade pulls me back to his chest and I think he isn’t going to answer me.
“I never stopped,” he whispers into the noisy bar, but his words are sharp as they pierce my fragile heart. I lean into Wade’s hold, letting the tears run their course.
Tonight, I will cry and wallow.
Tonight, I will feel sorry for myself.
And tomorrow, I will perform.
After all, what’s a circus without their ringleader?