13. Harper
13
Harper
O nce out of the room, Paul grabbed Harper’s upper arm roughly. Thankfully, it wasn’t the one with the bullet wound. She’d been fucking shot. The pain burned through her arm, pulsing as the blood spilled down past her fingers. But she didn’t have time to process that. They were on the move.
Paul dragged her down the hall as though she were a piece of luggage with a broken wheel. It didn’t matter that she no longer fought him. He was in a foul mood. To be fair, she’d earned it. Attempting to stab a guy had a tendency to piss him off. Add someone else trying to murder his mark, and Paul wasn’t having a good day. If she weren’t the target, she might have felt bad for him.
He kicked the door to the stairs and practically threw her through it. Stumbling, she squeaked, trying to keep her balance and not tumble ass over teakettle down the stairs. Once again, he grabbed her arm and yanked her as he charged downward.
“You don’t have to be so rough,” she admonished.
“You need to move your ass,” he snapped.
“Forgive me for not being faster. It’s not every day I get shot ,” she replied snidely.
“ I’ll shoot you if you don’t pick up the pace.”
Barefoot, with her arm in searing pain, she raced down the stairs with him, trying to keep her balance. Finally, they got to the bottom, and he burst out into the parking lot, dragging her along with him.
They stopped when he got to a black BMW sedan. Releasing her, he glared. “Don’t run or you’ll get another bullet.”
She scoffed.
Shuffling the contents in his arms, he produced a key, and the lights of the car blinked in time with the chirps . Opening the passenger door, he waved a hand. “Get in.”
Both of their heads jerked at the sound of sirens. Her breath hitched as he shoved her again, and she fell into the car.
Slamming the door behind her, he just barely missed catching her feet. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
Once inside, Paul tossed the bundle of items he’d grabbed into the back of the car before the engine purred to life. The dash lit up, and to her surprise, Three Days Grace’s song “Mayday” came through the speakers.
“Huh.” She smirked as she put on her seat belt. “I never pictured you as a rock music kind of guy.”
He reached for the knob and lowered the music before throwing the car into Reverse and pulling out of the spot.
“I like it,” she said and turned it back up.
“Stop,” he ordered as he turned the wheel, tapping the buttons there to lower the radio. “I need to concentrate.”
Bopping her head, she shouted the lyrics along with them.
“Are you serious?” he snapped as he jammed on the accelerator. “I have to make calls.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned and glared out the window.
As he tapped at his phone and they sped out of the parking lot, Harper had an idea. She rubbed her bleeding arm on the seat and the door.
Furrowing his brow, he placed the phone to his ear. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving evidence.”
“What?”
“If you’re going to murder me, I’m going to make sure there are clues left for even the most imbecilic cop to find.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, he shook his head. “Yeah. Need a crew,” he said to whomever was on the phone. “The Hilton. Room 422.”
He paused.
She thrummed her fingers on the armrest.
“One.”
The call ended, and he swiped at the screen again.
“Such a busy guy,” she groaned.
Ignoring her, he put the phone back to his ear. “Eddie? I need you to meet me.”
Doing her best to appear as though she were focused on the road, she listened intently. Maybe he’d say where they would go.
“Yeah.”
Why wasn’t he using Bluetooth? This fancy car was decked out with all the bells and whistles. Of course it had Bluetooth.
“On their way.”
She hated the way criminals spoke on the phone. Everything was ambiguous and in code.
“Just one. Irish,” he said and winced as someone on the other end either laughed or screamed. It was muffled. Harper couldn’t truly make it out. “I know. Listen. I’ll do it. I just… Things are a bit messier than I anticipated.”
Well, what the fuck did that mean?
“About an hour and a half. I’ll text you some supplies.” Lowering the phone, he turned to her. “Are you on birth control?”
Eyes wide, Harper couldn’t believe her ears. “That’s none of your business.”
“I just raw dogged you twice. It’s my business.”
“Aren’t you planning on killing me?”
“Just answer the fucking question,” Paul snapped.
“Someone’s crabby.”
“I’ve been stabbed and shot at, so you’ll have to cut me some slack.”
She snickered. “Well, I’ve got a bullet wound.”
“It’s not a competition. Can you please just tell me if you’re on the pill or patch or something?”
The way his tone went from snippy to pleading struck a chord with Harper. He was sent to kill her but had somehow managed to prevent someone else from doing just that, so she might as well answer him. That way, she wouldn’t owe him anything.
“I have an IUD.”
He let out a breath. “Thank Christ. I didn’t want to explain why I needed my brother to pick up the morning-after pill.”
“The amount of fucked up this situation is can’t be measured,” she said as she went back to staring out the window.
“You have no idea,” he retorted as he typed into his phone and merged onto I-235 south.
“Where are we going?” She doubted he’d give her a straight answer, but it was worth asking.
“A safe house.”
“Why?”
“Because all of Oklahoma wants to kill you.”
“No. I get that, but you do too. Why not just get it over with? Why are you bothering to take me anywhere? You can just shoot me and dump me on the side of the road. Not that I’m advocating for you to murder me or anything, I just don’t get what you’re doing. It doesn’t make sense.” For the life of her, she didn’t understand why she was still breathing.
Paul was a talented killer. He was the kind of guy who didn’t hesitate. She’d grown up around his kind. It didn’t matter if they knew the person. With a bounty that high on her head, she should be at the pearly gates right now. Something wasn’t right.
“I’ll get to it,” he said, curling his fingers around the steering wheel. “Things just got more complicated than I would’ve liked.”
Messy. Complicated. Those weren’t good words. Yet they accurately described their predicament.
Sitting back in the seat, Harper closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do about this but go along for the ride and be alert for when Paul got around to ending her life.
How long would that take?