43. Harper
43
Harper
H arper wasn’t sure what woke her. Either the bright dome light turning on or the sounds of the beeping had jolted her awake as the door to the SUV opened. Her brain was about to explode from the migraine throbbing within her skull. Every muscle screamed in pain with even the tiniest movement. Breathing hurt. Why would someone rip her out of sleep when she felt like this?
“Hey, beautiful,” Paul cooed as he poked his head into the car. “Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
What she wanted was to go back to sleep, but he only wanted to help. She couldn’t hold that against him.
“I can manage,” she grumbled.
However, when she tried to climb out of the back seat, a squeak of pain slipped past her lips.
That was all he needed. Paul slid his hands under her, and she gritted her teeth as he gently pulled her out of the vehicle.
Burying her head in his shoulder, she bit back the urge to scream through the pain. This had to be how someone who’d been hit by a freight train felt. She wasn’t sure how much more of this agony she could handle. Someone needed to give her something. She didn’t care if it was painkillers or a bullet at this point. Just something to end her anguish.
“I’m sorry,” Paul murmured as he carried her.
Each step he took was a fresh jolt of pain, reminding her of the never-ending list of injuries she had endured. Tears dripped down her cheeks.
He brought her to a large farmhouse with a wraparound porch. A man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing loose sweatpants and a faded New England Patriots T-shirt, held the door open for her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him wincing as she passed him.
Damn, she must look as bad as she felt to earn that reaction.
The kitchen table had been cleared. A pale cloth topped it, and a pillow waited for her. Gingerly, Paul laid her on her back.
“Tommy’s son is going to look you over. If anything is super serious, I’ll figure out how to get you treated.”
Harper nodded but immediately regretted it.
Stepping back slightly, Paul left her field of vision but held on to her hand.
“Hi,” a young man with short curly brown hair and large, kind brown eyes said. “I’m Elliot. For the sake of honesty, I want to let you know I’m a veterinarian—not a doctor, nurse, or even a paramedic.”
“What the hell?” she hissed. What was Paul thinking? “I’m not a fucking horse.”
Frowning with tight lips, Elliot nodded.
“We are very aware of that, but he’s the best person on hand to assess you,” Paul explained.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she processed what he didn’t say. They couldn’t take her to the hospital. Too many questions. This had to be the way if everyone wanted to stay under the radar. Which was a necessity.
She blew out a painful breath. “Fine.”
“I know it’s not ideal,” Elliot offered softly. “But I assure you, I’m very good at what I do.”
“Deworming sheep? Fantastic,” she couldn’t help but snark.
“Harper,” Paul pleaded. “Just let him look you over.”
“As long as he can give me something for pain, I don’t care what his credentials are,” she relented.
After an hour, Harper learned veterinarians had fancy portable X-ray machines. Her image showed that she indeed had three cracked ribs. Her skull was intact, no fractures there, but based on symptoms alone, Elliot believed she had a pretty severe concussion. Everything else was bumps and bruises.
“Did I miss anything?” Elliot asked.
Harper closed her eyes, and a fresh set of tears dropped down her cheeks. “On my—” Her voice cracked.
Paul stepped closer and stroked her hair. “Did he touch you?”
She attempted to snort, but it turned into a cough. She whimpered through it and draped an arm across her middle.
“Not like that.” She sighed. “He wanted to, but he didn’t get the opportunity before the lights went out.” She closed her eyes as the memory of the iron flashed through her mind. Swallowing hard, she admitted it. Paul would find out eventually anyway. “He branded my ass.”
“What?” Paul growled.
Elliot flinched as Harper attempted to roll so they could see. As she moved, the young veterinarian assisted, then inhaled audibly. “Oh.”
“What the hell?” Paul squeezed her hand. “Who does that bullshit?”
Harper didn’t have to look at it. She’d seen the bright hot iron before it seared her flesh. It was the logo of the Roughneck Riders—a skull wearing a helmet with two wrenches crossed and an oil rig behind it.
“That’s nasty,” Elliot whispered.
“I want to kill him again,” Paul seethed.
“Don’t worry.” Harper actually found the will to smile. “I stabbed him in the nuts.”
“I hope he was still alive when the flames got him,” Paul said as he shook his head.
Harper couldn’t help but flinch and jerk as Elliot, gentle as he could, examined the burn on her butt. “It’s obviously fresh,” he commented, “but I don’t think infected. I’ll wash it out with sterile water and cover it with some gauze. You’re going to have to clean it several times a day to prevent infection.”
“Is there anything that can be done about the scar?” Paul asked.
Elliot frowned and shook his head. “I mean, if she scrubs it hard enough, it’ll distort, but I don’t recommend that.”
After he dressed the wound, the veterinarian gently guided her down to her back on the table. Paul hovered near her head and stroked her hair with his free hand. The other held hers.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“I’m going to get you some antibiotics and pain medication,” Elliot said as he exited the room, giving them privacy.
Gritting her teeth, she turned slightly and looked up into Paul’s cool blue gaze. It wasn’t as icy as normal. His irises were filled with concern and affection—far softer than she’d ever seen.
“It’s not your fault,” she said.
“I should’ve protected you better.”
“You did all that you could,” she offered.
“It wasn’t enough.” He hung his head.
Reaching up, she ran the tips of her fingers along his jaw. “I’m still here. That’s all that matters.”
They remained silent. No matter what Harper said, she couldn’t relieve the guilt written all over his face. It was in every muscle in his body. All she could do was hope it would go away in time.
Elliot returned and offered her three pills. He explained what each was, and honestly, she was most thankful for the prescription-strength pain medication. Once she took them, Tommy, the owner of the farm, showed them to the living room before he escorted his son from the house.
“I just want to go to sleep,” she admitted as she groaned her way onto the couch.
Paul limped over and sat beside her. Apparently, Elliot had stitched him up quickly. A bullet had grazed his calf. Twice now he’d taken a bullet for her. If that wasn’t devotion, she didn’t know what was.
“About that…” He sighed through his pause as though searching for the correct words. “If you want to go back to North Carolina, Tommy has a plane gassed up and can fly you back.”
“Alone?” she couldn’t help but ask. After everything that happened, the last thing she wanted was to be left by herself. Paul assured her the threat was over, but it didn’t feel that way.
He wouldn’t look at her. “It’s a four-seater plane. If you want me to come with you, I can. If not me, I’ll get someone else—”
“Fuck that. If I’m going anywhere, it has to be with you. I don’t trust anyone else.”
She could see the tension in his jaw loosen. He nodded but still wouldn’t meet her eye. It annoyed her.
“So, you want to go home?” he asked.
She furrowed her brow. “Where else would I go?”
Slowly, he peered up at her. He looked like a shy little boy about to tell his kindergarten crush he liked her. “With me?”
“You mean back to the house?”
He shook his head. “No. That place is compromised. We’ll remodel it and sell it.”
Blinking, she did her best to follow. Maybe it was the concussion or the medication kicking in, but she didn’t understand. “Then where?”
He cocked his head, and a smile spread across his lips. “Did you think that was where I lived? Like full-time?”
She attempted a shrug, but it hurt too much, so she gave up halfway through it. “I don’t know your life.”
A small chuckle escaped him. The way it brightened his features warmed her heart. “I have a place in Oklahoma City. Nothing fancy or anything, but it’s comfortable.”
“So, to be clear,” she said as she tried to navigate her brain fog, “I have to choose between jumping on a plane right now or going to your place?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She groaned and flopped back on the couch. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes. She was too tired and too injured to have this conversation.
This wasn’t about where she wanted to spend the night. It wasn’t even about where she’d heal. Paul asked her if she wanted to stay in Oklahoma with him or go home without him. The choice was truly impossible.
Though she might be reading into things. The pain had waned, allowing her to jump to conclusions far more efficiently. She should get clarity. “For how long?”
“As long as you’d like.”
Oh yeah. They weren’t discussing short-term arrangements.
“Is your bed comfortable?” Honestly, that was the only thing that mattered to her at the moment. Everything else could be sorted out in time. She wasn’t ready to make that decision. If she weren’t in so much pain or fresh out of a traumatic event, she might be able to think more about it, but she didn’t have the energy.
“Like a cloud.”
Sold.
“Take me to your bed. It’s closer.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen,” he mused as he stood and offered his hand to help her to her feet.
She had unfinished business in Oklahoma anyway. Her father’s funeral needed to be planned. She’d have to check on her mother and her sister. Eventually, her brothers would come home. There was a lot to do, and she couldn’t accomplish any of it from North Carolina. Harper wasn’t the type of person to just abandon her family.
When she left them back in the day, she believed they could care for themselves, but not now. Not through this. She had to be around them to support them through this, just as much as she would need them for the exact same thing for her.
Besides, where better to stay than in the home of the man who would sacrifice his life for her? It was the safest place she could be.
She’d turned her back on Paul once. Whether that was the correct choice at the time, she’d never know, but she’d made it. Questioning it was futile. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.
When she healed up, she’d decide what to do with her life. For now, she wanted to take a breath and enjoy Paul.
Everyone’s life was full of twists and turns. Her path may have been convoluted and slightly more dangerous than others, but it led her to where she belonged—home to Paul. She’d figure out the rest in time.