Chapter 18 Harper-Rayn
HARPER-RAYN
Knight drives like he has nine lives, just as worked up as I am. He pushes his truck to the limits, soaring through the streets and taking turns that my car could never. I mean, shit, my car is barely running on hopes and dreams while Knight’s truck is a fucking beast in the street.
He soars through town as I swig from a six-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey, barely even noticing that he’s going the wrong way.
“Can you believe the nerve of that bitch?” I demand, watching the world pass me by.
“She really thought I was just going to fall in line. As if I’m not twenty-fucking-eight years old and capable of making my own decisions. Like fuck. The audacity.”
I scoff, not even sure if Knight is listening to me anymore. He’s caught up in his own thoughts, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel as I rant and rave.
“Not to mention, she was going to hit you. Who the hell does that bitch think she is? Hitting my boyfriend? My boyfriend? Get fucked. At least my boyfriend isn’t a piece-of-shit rapist who preys on young women.
Like shit. Sort out your own failings before trying to accuse me of having any. My boyfriend is great.”
I let out a loud huff, taking another swig.
“I’m never going back there,” I tell Knight, certain that he’s definitely not listening anymore, yet I don’t seem to care.
The words just keep coming out like word vomit.
“I’d rather take a stroll through hell than go back there.
In fact, I’m blocking her number just like I should have done years ago. ”
Scrambling through my bag, I find my phone and immediately block Mom’s number, grinning as a wave of pride fills my chest. “There,” I say, putting my phone down in the center console. “She’s officially blocked. I never have to deal with her again. She’s Jonah’s problem now.”
I cross my arms over my chest and huff again, having run out of things to say, and yet I’m still so worked up that I’m desperate to keep going.
“What was all that shit about needing to leave?” Knight asks me a moment later, not skipping a beat. “When you first came into the living room. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. What got you so freaked out?”
“Your brother,” I mutter, watching him carefully as I clutch the neck of the whiskey bottle. “He called me kitten.”
His gaze settles on mine, watching me carefully. “Kitten, as in . . .”
“As in the name that the masked stalker calls me,” I clarify, unsure how this is going to go.
“It’s him, Knight. Your brother is the asshole who stabbed me in the parking garage.
His voice. His eyes. I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier, but now that I have, it’s crystal clear.
Plus, Elias has the means to pay off the doctors to release my psych notes, and the money to special-order the mask specific to the drawing I made. ”
I shake my head, feeling so fucking stupid for not having seen it earlier, and as I glance back at Knight, I see the hesitation in his eyes. “I know you don’t believe it and think I’m some crazy bitch losing her mind, but I’m telling you, it’s him.”
“You’re really sure about this,” he comments.
“I am,” I say, reaching across the center console and taking his hand.
“I promise you, I’m not going crazy. I’ve been taking my meds every day, and they’re doing exactly what they’re intended to do.
My mind is clear. The paranoia is gone. I’m healthy, Knight.
Elias . . . He’s designed this sick game to make sure everyone in my life doubts me, and it’s working like a charm.
He thinks he’s untouchable. He thinks he can do whatever he wants to me and get away with it because every person in my life thinks I’m imagining it, but it’s okay.
I know you don’t believe me, and I know you’re struggling to understand me on this, but I know that when it comes down to it, you’ll be right there to catch me when I fall. ”
“I’ll always catch you, doll.”
“I know,” I tell him, squeezing his hand.
“All I ask is that you at least look into it. Check him out. See if he’s got an alibi for the times where he was trying to end my life.
Hell, see if you can find the little hidey-hole where he’s been stashing the mask.
I promise, you’ll find exactly what you need to find. ”
“Okay,” he finally says, nodding. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
Knight takes another turn, taking us even farther away from our home, and I finally put everything else aside and ask the one question that’s been bugging me since he first hit the gas. “Okay, where the fuck are you taking me?”
A small grin lifts the corner of his lips. “You’ll see,” he says. “For now, just carelessly drink your sorrows away. I’ve got you.”
“Sounds good,” I say before offering him the bottle. “Want a hit?”
“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like more than to drink my night away and forget that bullshit even happened, but not sure it’s such a great idea, considering I’m chauffeuring your ass around.”
“Right. Good point,” I say, flopping back against the seat. “So, what’s got your knickers in such a twist? I get that my mom gets under your skin just as much as mine, but this is different. What’s with all the tension between you and Elias at the start?”
“It’s nothing, doll,” he tells me. “I don’t want you worrying yourself with that shit. He’s just . . . Elias. He’s an egotistical asshole who thinks he’s untouchable.”
“True, but I don’t buy it. It’s more than that. Did something go down between you?”
He shakes his head. “Really, doll. It’s nothing. Just usual brother bullshit. We’ve butted heads since I was a kid. Always have and probably always will.”
I nod, and as he continues to drive, I get lost in thought, the whiskey finally starting to ease the rage burning through my veins. The seconds turn into minutes, and before I know it, Knight is bringing his truck to a stop outside a familiar tattoo parlor.
“Oh! Am I getting a new tattoo?” I ask, sitting up straighter in the truck as I gaze out the window, taking in Harlow’s store.
Knight scoffs. “Fuck no, doll. You’re drunk, and I’m not about to be the reason why you get some stupid design like a ruler tattooed on your arm so that you can whip it out every time my cock’s in your mouth and start measuring.”
A smirk cuts across my face. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Of course you’d like that.”
Knight gets out of the truck, and as I unbuckle and move to climb out, I find Knight standing in my open door, offering me his hand like the perfect gentleman, but there’s nothing gentlemanly about him.
He just doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath when I inevitably fall out the door and break my nose on the pavement.
I mean, there’s only so many times a woman can end up in the hospital before people start asking too many questions.
Knight leads me across the road toward Harlow’s studio, and as we walk, I take on the role of the perfect tour guide, waving my hand toward the alley beside the studio.
“Here to our left is where I parked my car that one fateful day, and where I was first accosted by men with tiny wieners. And if you turn your attention to the right, you’ll see the alley where those four tiny wieners jumped me and—oh shit.
Gross. My blood is still stained on the brickwork. ”
“Fuck’s sake.”
I blow out a breath, not having expected that to rock me so thoroughly. It doesn’t go unnoticed how Knight’s grip tightens on my waist, and he pulls me along faster to get me out of here.
“Shit. You would have thought that’d be cleaned up by now,” I say.
“Sorry, doll. I wasn’t thinking,” he mutters, clearly frustrated with himself. “We can leave if it’s too much.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “And honestly, I kinda wanna see you getting a tattoo. I know you’re this big, tough SWAT robot and nothing can get to you, but something tells me that you’re a little bitch when face-to-face with a needle.”
Knight scoffs, but the fact that he doesn’t respond is very suspicious.
We make our way into the studio, and as the little bell over the door chimes, I breathe it in as though I’m coming home. Apart from being right here in Knight’s arms, Harlow’s studio is one of my favorite places in the world.
Harlow and a few of her employees linger around, and I look at the place in shock.
I’ve never seen it so quiet in here before.
As a general rule, it’s always packed. People are desperate to get in with the best artists in town, and the fact that it’s not leaves me wondering if they’re able to squeeze me in to feed my addiction.
Though Knight is right. Getting a tattoo after drinking is never the best idea, but that doesn’t mean I can’t book in while I’m here.
“Holy shit,” Harlow’s hypnotic voice calls through the studio as she gets to her feet and looks between me and Knight, her lips quirked in amusement. “Really, girl? This guy? You know he needs an attitude adjustment?”
I snort. I fucking snort.
“Tell me about it,” I say. “But the dick is too good. You should see the way he puts it down. He’s a fucking beast.”
Knight has the audacity to look bashful while Harlow just laughs. “Oh, I can only imagine.”
I hold my hands up to show the impressive size of his dick. This big, I mouth, my eyes widening to demonstrate just how shocking it is. “Actually, thinking about getting a ruler tattooed down the length of my arm. Could you squeeze me in?”
Harlow just laughs. “Ahhh, you’re drunk.”
“Very,” Knight says, physically lifting me up and sitting me on a chair so I don’t accidentally wander off. “We’re here for me.”
“What can I do for you?” Harlow asks.
Knight strides deeper into the studio while reaching over the back of his head and grabbing the top of his shirt, pulling it off in one swift movement, and somehow, I just got pregnant. Holy fucking shit. How is it possible to be this attracted to one man?
I watch him as he strides up to Harlow, and I’m so captivated by the tattoos across his back and arms, his perfectly sculpted muscles, and his sheer size that I can’t even pay attention to anything he’s saying.
I start to drool as a deep groan rumbles through my chest. “Daaaaamn,” I murmur, completely captivated by the sight. “Now that’s what I call a snack.”
Knight glances back at me, his brow arched as amusement flickers over his features, but it’s Harlow who cuts in. “Down, girl. Keep it in your pants. You’ll get him back soon enough.”
Knight settles onto the chair in Harlow’s station, one hand braced behind his head as his dark, captivating gaze lingers on me, and when Harlow starts setting up her things and sits down beside him, I realize that whatever he’s getting done, it’s going to be freehand.
There’s no stencil, no carefully laid-out plan, and honestly, fuck that.
I’m too cautious for that kind of recklessness.
Though this is Harlow we’re talking about, and she’s absolutely incredible.
As Knight is worked on, I keep myself occupied, but when one of Harlow’s colleagues makes his way over to the counter, I get to my feet and wander over to him. “So, about that ruler,” I start.
Thirty minutes later, I have thoroughly given every artist in the room a full recap of my night, going into explicit detail about how fucking insane my mom is.
When Knight is freed from the confines of Harlow’s chair, he grabs his shirt and strides back over to me.
I turn against the counter, bracing myself on my elbows as I watch him, still so affected by everything that he is. “All done, doll.”
“Wow. You didn’t even flinch a little bit. I’m impressed.”
Knight scoffs. “I spend my days getting shot at, and then I come home to the likes of you. Getting a tattoo is nothing compared to what I go through simply trying to keep you alive.”
I laugh and step right into him, my gaze roaming over his chest as I try to figure out what’s new.
And sure, on anybody else, picking out a tattoo shouldn’t be like playing Where’s Waldo, but on Knight, who’s covered almost head to toe, that’s exactly what it is.
“What’d you get?” I ask, my fingers splaying across his warm chest.
He lifts his hand and brushes it over his fresh ink, and a grin pulls across my lips, seeing the perfect outline of the bite mark I’d left over his shoulder earlier in the day. “What the hell!” I say, peering up into his warm stare. “Why’d you do that?”
His arm slips around my waist, pulling me in tight against his chest. “To remind myself that your bite is always going to be much worse than your bark, and that I should check myself before ever trying to go toe-to-toe with you again.”
I laugh as I push up onto my tiptoes and brush my lips over his. “And don’t you ever forget it.”