Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bryan
H arper won’t even look at me.
She was polite enough to thank the nurse when I paid the woman and relieved her, but that’s been the only words out of her mouth since I got back.
She sits on the end cushion of the sofa, her hands wrapped around another steaming cup of tea, her bare feet tucked beneath her. She’s trying to take up as little space as possible. The pink flush on her cheeks hasn’t lessened since I walked in the room—she’s embarrassed.
Can’t say I blame her.
Between rescuing her naked, showering with her, and walking in on her bare ass a moment ago, there’s been no shortage of mortifying moments for her.
I’d be lying if I said she was the only one unnerved.
Harper is edging under the shield of my emotional armor in a way I’m not prepared for. She’s beautiful—in an athletic, tomboy, swinging ponytail kind of way. Not at all like the glowing grace and sweetness of Yasmine.
Not at all.
But from the second I saw her flirting with Mason and his scout, even when she was half out of her mind with drugs in her system, I could tell she has a strength like Yas.
She’s principled, determined, and fearless.
Which makes the way her hazel eyes are darting away from mine and her teeth sinking into that full bottom lip kind of funny.
But none of this is funny—it’s dangerous. Because the more time I spend with her, the more I realize I don’t just want to protect her.
I want to fuck her.
And that’s a problem.
I exhale slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. “So… do you want to talk about it?”
Her grip tightens on the mug. “Talk about what?”
I raise an eyebrow. Really? We’re playing dumb?
“There’s so much to choose from,” she says, her voice sad. “Am I curious? Of course, I’m an investigator because I’m always curious, but…”
When she doesn’t finish, I take a guess. “But you’re not sure you’re ready to hear it.”
She takes another sip and stares at her mug. “I don’t think anyone raped me—I mean…all my girl parts feel intact and, well, unused. Nothing bad or telling is going on down there.”
Thank fuck. “I’ve been hoping we got there before anything like that happened. I’m relieved to hear it.”
She takes another sip of her tea. “But there’s still a lot to unpack. I woke up once bound to a bed, then have a brief memory of hanging naked and someone rambling close by, then…did you take me in the shower?”
I hold up my palms. “That was simply an exercise in getting your core temperature up. I saw more of you when I walked in a moment ago and you flashed me a full view of your very bare?—”
“Okay!” She groans and hides her face behind the tea, but I see the way her shoulders shake with silent laughter. “No need to revisit that point of humiliation. I remember that one just fine.”
I take a mug down from the cupboard and pour myself a tea. “Then what would you like to talk about?”
A moment passes before she exhales and sets her mug down on the little coffee table. “Fill in the blanks for me. What happened?”
“You’re ready to hear it?”
“Not sure,” she admits, her lips pressing together as she sighs. “I’ll let you know if I need you to stop.”
Something tightens in my chest. Aye. Fearless and determined. That’s my girl. No. Not my girl.
My friend. My acquaintance. My research partner.
I keep the highlight reel simple, giving her a quick rundown of how we tracked her to the auction, how Kieran and I found her and got her out, and how we brought her here.
She listens without interrupting, her expression unreadable. But when I finish, she’s silent for a long beat, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the arm of the sofa. “Did you kill people?”
I hold her gaze, watching the way she swallows, the way she braces herself for the answer.
“People were killed.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t flinch. I expected her to recoil, maybe shift away from me. Instead, she nods, as if she already knew. “And where are we now?”
“While you were out getting dinner at the pub, one of the searches you’d set up came back.”
She straightens slightly, her usual flare of curiosity flickering in her eyes for the first time in too long.
“Your search on Sentinel holdings highlighted a farmhouse just outside of Yorkshire as the most likely place where they might have Siobhan hidden. That’s where we went this afternoon.”
She shifts, pulling her legs out from under her and crossing them beneath her sweater. “What did you find?”
I hesitate, but only for a second. Sure, she’s been through hell, but she wants to know. And honestly? If telling her keeps her alight with purpose again, then I’ll keep her distracted until she’s fully recovered.
I settle into the chair at the end of the couch, my elbows resting on my knees as I tell her what we found—how the farmhouse wasn’t just a safe house, but a fortified stronghold, locked down tighter than we expected. How it wasn’t just a couple of guards, but Sentinel operatives, armed to the teeth.
She listens carefully, her eyes locked on mine, nodding as she processes every word. “And Siobhan? Was she there?”
“We don’t know. She might still be there, but we couldn’t get close enough to confirm. We need more information.”
“Is that where Kieran is?” she asks.
“Aye, he’s gone to get us surveillance equipment and to speak to one of his contacts in the area.”
Harper exhales slowly, like she’s piecing everything together. She chews on the inside of her lip as her fingers trace absently along the rim of her mug. I can practically see the gears turning in her head, the way she weighs every detail, every risk.
After a long moment, she exhales. “What are your next steps?”
I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. “First, we gather more intel. We need to confirm if Siobhan is still in that farmhouse and, if she is, how to get to her.”
Harper watches me carefully. “And if she’s in there?”
My jaw tightens. If Siobhan is in that fortress, getting her out will be damn near impossible. Not with how heavily armed the place is. Not without escalating things in a way Harper doesn’t need to know about.
I don’t tell her about my idea.
Rocket launchers. Fire. Burning that goddamn compound to the ground and everyone in it.
She doesn’t belong in that world—the world where men like me solve problems with violence and bloodshed. The world where revenge is the only currency that matters. I might like her, but I’m under no illusions about what we are.
And more importantly, what we aren’t.
So, I keep it simple. “If she’s still there, we figure out how to get her out. But we can’t do that until we have more information.”
A silence stretches between us.
Harper grips her mug tighter, her thoughts taking over. “What about my purse and suitcase? How did all my stuff end up here?”
“The server from the restaurant—the one who called to warn me you’d been taken—said your purse was left behind when Jamie grabbed you. Logan did us a favor. He packed up both our rooms and forwarded our stuff through a personal courier this morning. Hopefully, you have everything, because we won’t be going back to Liverpool anytime soon.”
Harper exhales, her fingers curling against the fabric of her sweater. “That’s fine with me. I’ve got a horrifyingly solid understanding of how Eddie Mason’s business works. Putting a little distance between me and his plans sounds great.”
I bet it does. I almost leave it at that, but figure she’ll want to know everything. “Also, you should probably let your partner know you’re safe.”
“Partner? I don’t have a partner. I’m a lone wolf, remember?”
“Well, your friend Anton gave Logan a hard time, demanding answers about what he was doing. You might want to call him to let him know you’re all right.”
She sucks in a breath and unfolds herself, hurrying back into the bedroom. “Ohmygod, I bet he’s losing his mind.”
* * *
Harper
At the mention of Anton, I rush into the bedroom to where my things have been left on the dresser. I dig through my purse, fingers fumbling until they close around my phone.
Relief trickles through me when I see there is still seventeen percent left on the charge. With a deep breath, I pull up Anton’s contact information and tap the screen.
It barely rings once before he picks up.
“Harper?” His voice is sharp, frantic. “Jesus Christ, where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling, texting—then a man was in your room. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer, just said you were safe but wouldn’t say where?—”
“He’s right. I’m safe.” Guilt twists around the tea and toast in my tummy for worrying him. “I’m sorry. Things got unexpectedly…messy.”
“Messy?” he repeats, his voice rising. “Harper, what the hell happened?”
I close my eyes, inhaling deeply before exhaling through my nose. “Jamie grabbed me when I went out to grab food at the pub. I wasn’t expecting it, and before I could react, I was already being taken.”
Anton sucks in a sharp breath on the other end of the line. “But you’re safe now?”
“Yes. Bryan got to me. He pulled me out before anything happened.”
There’s a long pause, like he’s processing that. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, tightly controlled. “And you swear you’re okay?”
“I swear. I’m still a bit groggy from the tranquilizers they pumped me with, but the nurse just left. I’ve been instructed to rest and take care of myself. I’m safe and in another day or so, I’ll be fully recovered.”
Anton exhales hard, and I can practically picture him rubbing his forehead, pacing like he always does when he’s stressed. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
“I’m sorry.” My throat tightens, guilt pressing down on me. “I wouldn’t have worried you if I had a choice.”
There’s another pause, but the tension in his voice eases just a fraction. “So…what does this mean?”
I hesitate, pressing my lips together. “Well, I can’t come back to Liverpool. Not yet.”
“Then how?—”
“I’ll investigate remotely,” I cut in before he can argue. “You should go home, Anton. Be with your family. I’ll keep pushing forward on this from here.”
I expect another protest, but when he speaks again, there’s resignation in his tone. “But you’re not letting this go? You’re still going to investigate?”
I scoff. “If anything, I’m more determined than ever.”
“Of course you are.”
I know how worried he’s been about his sister, but as horrible as it was being captured, I learned important information. “Anton, I don’t want to make promises, but given the high-end set up and the auction, I’m thinking the women Mason sells might not get shipped off and be lost. If he’s selling them directly to one wealthy buyer, then they might be close. We just have to find them.”
Anton is silent for several long beats. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer. “Maybe. But no matter what you find, be careful, Harper. Your safety is no less important than that of my sister or your friends.”
“Thanks. I’ll be careful.”
“Keep me updated?”
“Always.”
I hear him sigh as he’s hanging up, muttering something about stubborn women. There’s no real heat behind it, just concern.
I hang up, find my power cable, and plug my phone in. Then, shaking off the last of my lingering emotions, I reach for my laptop and power cord. Taking it over to the small desk in the corner, I plug in and set my mouse on top for later.
My limbs feel heavy, my head foggy, and my body is screaming for rest.
I step back from the desk and call toward the living room. “Bryan? I’m lying down for a bit.”
A low grunt of acknowledgment comes from the other room. “Sweet dreams, trouble.”
Without another word, I shimmy out of my pants and crawl back into bed, burrowing beneath the covers. The last thing I register is the faint scent of clean linen and the distant sound of Bryan moving around the suite.
Then everything fades.