Chapter 22 Knight #2
My gaze snaps up to Laith, and I grin. “I’ve been asking myself the same fucking question,” I tell him.
“Huh?” Izzy asks, her head snapping up.
“Oh, nothing,” Harper laughs, prompting Izzy to narrow her gaze and look at us a little closer, clearly seeing that there’s a private conversation going on over here, and that it centers on Harper’s phone.
Then, like a fucking lightning bolt, she springs from the couch and snatches the phone right out of Harper’s hand before reading the text out loud. “‘Big & Long Schlong #3: You guys are seeing this, right? Which one of them does she actually’—Oh shit!”
Izzy sucks in a gasp, gaping at Laith, but a twisted smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Both if they’ll let me,” she says. “At the same time too.”
Ace narrows his gaze. “The fuck are we talking about?” he questions as Diesel just smirks, not needing the context to catch on, but before Izzy can reply, Laith gapes at Harper, his jaw open in horror.
“Wait. Did she say number three?” he demands. “Number fucking three? I thought you were screwing with me when you said you were changing my ranking. I should be number one.”
Harper scoffs before tilting her head toward me.
“If you knew what this guy was working with, you’d happily accept third place without question.
Trust me, you don’t want to get into this argument because he’ll whip it out, and it’ll be like one of those old paper scrolls that just keeps unraveling across the room. ”
My chest bounces her as I laugh to myself, but Laith just shakes his head, not impressed in the least. “So who the fuck is number two?”
“Uhhhh, well. If we’re being completely honest, I switched you out for number two when this whole imaginary masked stalker came into the picture. Now he was packing some real heat. But then he had to go and not exist. Such a pity. He would have made some sociopath a very happy woman one day.”
“But wait. There was that other dude, before Laith,” Izzy clarifies.
“Oh yeah. So it goes, Knight, stalker dude, old fuck buddy, and then finally Laith. So technically he should be number four. But I think by default, he gets promoted back to number three because you know . . . I started taking my meds and stopped seeing my stalker because I wasn’t crazy anymore.”
Laith just huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s your measuring scale? Length or girth?”
Harper just grins. “Oh, you don’t want to go there either.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Izzy laughs and strides across the living room before digging for something in her bag. “I almost forgot,” she says, pulling out some papers before handing them out to everyone. “My winter runway show is coming up, and I wanted to invite you guys.”
“No fucking way,” Ace beams, looking over the invitation, pride in his eyes. “I’ll be there. Yo, bossman,” he adds, glancing toward me. “I’m gonna need that night off. My girl’s got a thing.”
Diesel scoffs. “She’ll be your girl until I get my hands on her, and then she won’t even remember your fucking name.”
Ace looks toward Diesel, a cockiness flashing in his eyes that makes me worry for my furniture. “Come over here and say that.”
“Ahh, fuck,” I mutter, shifting Harper off my lap as Diesel gets to his feet, only a knock sounds at the door that somehow manages to sober the two assholes across my living room.
Letting out a sigh, I cross the room and head to the door as everyone falls back into comfortable silence, Izzy choosing to perch her ass on the edge of the coffee table instead of making matters worse by dropping back down beside Ace.
Though if anyone can handle it, it’s Diesel.
His usual silent demeanor shouldn’t be confused with weakness. He’s more confident than Ace.
Reaching the door, I go to dig a twenty out of my wallet to tip the delivery driver when I pull the door open to find Mae standing on my porch.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
“Knight,” she says in a dismissive tone, and I can practically feel the tension rolling off Harper as she hears her mother’s voice from across the room, my home suddenly plunging into a heavy silence.
“Mae,” I say, equally dismissive. “After our last conversation, I thought you would have understood that you are not welcome in my home.”
“I am not here for you,” she says. “I need to speak to my daughter, and seeing as the two of you have decided to shack up in this embarrassment of a relationship, I have no choice but to come to your door because you have poisoned her mind so much that she is now no longer taking my calls.”
“I’m not taking your calls because I blocked your number, Mother,” Harper spits, suddenly at my back, her fingers discreetly hooked into the back of my belt as if needing that touch.
Either that or because she wants to hold on to me just in case Mae says something that has me lunging at her, and when Mae is involved, I’d say it’s highly likely.
“That’s unacceptable,” Mae grits at her daughter, her face flushing red with anger.
“What’s unacceptable is thinking you can show up here with your bullshit attitude while we have company,” I say. “If you—”
“You have company?” she asks, quickly straightening her blouse and fixing her hair before adjusting her tone.
“It’s just, I’ve missed you so much, sweet Harper, and I hate how we ended things the other week.
Please, just give me a chance, and I’m sure we can work it out.
But I see now isn’t a good time. I can come back another time, or perhaps you would like to come over for dinner tomorrow night. ”
Harper scoffs. “Cut the shit, Mom. Every single one of the people here knows that you’re a despicable human. They don’t buy your fake sob story, and neither do I.”
Her jaw clenches, and I resist the urge to give Harper a high five right here in front of her mother. “I suppose I’ll leave, then,” Mae says, letting her face fall with the perfect guilt trip that pulls on Harper’s heartstrings.
Mae turns to leave when Harper groans. “Mom, just . . . fuck. Just come in and say what you have to say, and then you need to leave.”
Mae pauses before turning back to us and fixing her blouse once again. “Very well,” she says as I step back and silently wave her into our home.
She steps past me, but neither Harper nor I invite her any farther than the entryway, and as she awkwardly hovers, she assesses the faces of our friends, silently judging the way the boys drink a beer on the couch while Izzy sits on the coffee table.
“So this is your home,” Mae says a moment later, her face scrunching with distaste.
“Our home,” Harper corrects her, purposefully stepping in closer to me and putting her arm around me, knowing exactly how to bait her mother. “It’s the home I share with my uncle.”
Mae’s face contorts with rage, but like the perfect narcissist that she is, she’s able to mask it.
Not before both Harper and I see her exactly for what she is, though.
“I’ve come to talk to you about your relationship with Elias,” she says, and for a moment, I have no idea if she’s referring to me or Harper, because one thing is for sure—Harper has no fucking relationship with Elias, especially if I have anything to do with it.
Harper chokes on a laugh. “Excuse me?”
“He is my husband, and it’s about time you start showing him some respect,” she scolds her daughter. “He has tried so hard to build a relationship with you, and while I know you have your issues with me, Elias has done nothing but welcome you into our lives. Have some compassion.”
“You don’t even know the man you married, do you?” Harper questions. “Do you have any idea what kind of vile monster you sleep next to every night?”
“How dare you,” Mae spits. “That is my husband you’re talking about. The man I have chosen to spend my life with.”
Harper lets out a low groan. “Cut to the chase, Mom. You know that I have no intention of mending my relationship with Elias. He’s a monster in designer suits who plays the part just as well as you do. So, just tell me why you’re here so that I can get back to my night.”
“Very well,” she says, straightening her back.
“My husband has gone missing. He was hurt in a home invasion last week, and don’t get me started on the fact that neither of you bothered to check in on him or even attempt to send him a get-well card.
However, that is not why I have come. He disappeared early on Saturday morning, and nobody has seen or heard from him since, so I have come, as a last-ditch effort, to ask if the two of you will help in my search efforts. ”
My brow arches, and I glance down at Harper, meeting her horrified stare just as Ace and Diesel both get to their feet, realizing exactly what I have—Elias has absolutely no intention of turning himself in, and Harper is still at risk.
He’s going to come after her again, and when he does, he won’t be fucking around.
Harper stiffens, and I press my hand to her back, trying to keep her calm, but it’s not needed.
She blows out a gentle breath. “Perhaps he has had enough of you too and took off,” she suggests, shrugging.
“He’s a billionaire who needs to be locked behind bars.
I’m sure he has plenty of enemies. I suggest you start your search there. ”
Harper gives one last fake smile before stepping around her mother, but Mae calls out. “How could you be so cold?” she spits. “That’s not how you were raised.”
“That’s exactly how I was raised,” Harper growls, turning on her mother.
“You raised me in your image. You raised me to care about materialistic things. To be cold and calculating. To care more for money than my own damn well-being. You didn’t raise me to have compassion for others, to be empathetic, or generous.
I found all of that despite you, so if you would excuse me, you have overstayed your welcome. ”
“Whether you like it or not,” Mae says to her daughter’s back, “Elias is going to be in our lives for a very long time, and for your sister’s sake, it’s about time you got used to it.”
“What?” I mutter. “Sister? Harper doesn’t have a sister.”
Harper stops and turns on her heel once again, looking over her mother through a narrowed gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“This is why I invited you for dinner,” Mae tells Harper, cradling her stomach, that I only just now see is slightly rounded. “I’m pregnant. You’re going to have a baby sister.”