Chapter Twelve #2
“Okay,” Harper sighs softly, setting her cup down. “I can do that.” The relief that sweeps through me is short-lived as he keeps talking, evidently not even close to being finished.
“You’ll be asked to verbally confirm your identity, your understanding of why you’re here, and to walk them through the timeline of events leading to the call for help.
” Glancing over his pre-written notes, he flips a page.
“They’re focused on establishing the kidnapping, the location, the physical condition of the property, and any injuries sustained.
” And the list goes on. Rhys releases a breath, though it comes out thin and rattled.
I share the same sentiment. She’s going to be in there for hours.
“They won’t press you about Kenneth just yet—”
“How is he?” Harper interrupts to ask, perking up slightly. All of the men at the table share glances, unsure if they should answer. The lawyer clears his throat and closes his notepad.
“Stable,” he nods quickly and rises to stand. “Shall we?” He gestures to the door. I shift closer, letting my knee brush hers under the table and my hand clasping hers on top of it.
“We’ll be right here when you get back,” I tell her quietly, and despite her reading my lips, I catch the flurry of movement as the interpreter mirrors my words.
Harper looks so small at this moment, helpless as she slides the coffee mug away and rises.
Rhys steps out of her way, dragging her in for a quick hug before she leaves.
Head hanging low, Harper leaves the café with the small ding of the bell above the door, crossing the road like a lamb walking to the slaughter.
The men flanking her sides stand tall, far more confident as they open the station doors for her.
My hands ball beneath the table, nails biting into my palms. Across from me, Rhys watches her disappear, his jaw so tight a muscle twitches near his temple.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
We don’t need to offer base-level reassurances.
We know she’ll be fine, she’ll come out swinging and telling us to stop fretting over her.
The arrival of breakfast snaps us out of our trance, although I doubt I’ll eat.
Rhys dusts his plate with salt and pepper, his posture steeling itself as he stabs a sausage with his fork.
“We need to have a plan sorted before she returns,” he says, straight to business. I’m glad for the lack of small talk.
“Agreed,” I state. “Starting with no more hotels. Where are we taking her?” Rhys chews thoughtfully, his alertness flooding back to the surface. Maybe he should go without sleep more often. There’s not a sarcastic comment or cocky expression in sight.
“If it were up to her, she’d run straight back to the academy. Her degree is her entire purpose for leaving her aunt’s. And no,” he uses his fork to point a mushroom at me, “she’s not going back to her aunt’s house either. I don’t do cats.”
I huff a laugh. Of course there’s no version of this plan that accounts for Harper wanting to have some time without us, to collect herself without us breathing down her neck.
I don’t blame Rhys, I don’t want to separate from her either, but at least I’d give her the option.
In his own thoughts, he continues talking and eating, often at the same time.
“I say we drive her out of the city entirely. Somewhere quiet, somewhere she won’t be bothered.
She can rest, recover, and if she insists, continue her coursework online.
” He kicks the table leg as if he doesn’t really like that last idea, causing the leftover liquid in the coffee mug to ripple. I tap my thumb on my thigh.
“It’ll have to be somewhere big enough for the three of us to move around comfortably and have distance from each other when needed. Preferably with decent internet connection, a proper kitchen, good security.” I stare him dead on as he takes Harper’s coffee and finishes it.
“You sound like you have somewhere in mind,” Rhys mutters. I nod, waiting for his blue gaze to lift to mine.
“I do.”
Slowly but surely, his fork is placed down, and he stops chewing. I can see the cogs turning in his mind, the thought slowly slipping through as his eyes light with understanding.
“Wait, you don’t mean…no. No way, nope, not a chance in hell.” Rhys’ face contorts, his disgust palpable over the scent of greasy, untouched food before me. Rolling my eyes, I push my plate aside and lean forward on the table.
“Even without ever being there, I can bet it’s secluded, that there are surveillance cameras, and probably staff all year round.
I bet it’s big enough, and that your father must be away on business often.
Best part is, whilst we’re there, we can decide what to do next about your mom.
” It’s the first time I’ve broached the subject since last night, letting the knowledge sit with me until I know what to do with it.
Rhys’ eyes turn to narrowed slits. He knows I’m right.
“You want her protected,” I remind him. “Your house is the best option.”
“And if we’re dragging her straight into the viper’s nest?
” Rhys raises a brow. “My mom doesn’t have the connections or money to pull off what happened to Harper.
” This gives me pause. I figured there was some twisted revenge scheme going on here between a cast-off mother against father and son.
It’s the only connection I could make, but apparently, Rhys has ideas of his own.
“It’s possible that your father is behind this, or it’s possible you don’t know your mom as well as you think you do.
” Sitting back, I chew on the inside of my cheek.
It’s pointless making assumptions now. We’ve only just started pulling at this new thread, and there’s no telling how it might unravel.
“Look, until we get into that house and get some answers, we’re not going to know.
Unless you think Phillip Waversea is going to open his doors and welcome the cops in to have a snoop around? ”
Rhys’ jaw clenches so tight, I swear I hear it grind. He looks toward the station, staring at the doors Harper disappeared through. When he finally drags his gaze back to me, defeat creases the corners of his eyes.
“Fine,” he mutters. “But I’m not happy about it.”
“You don’t have to be happy,” I reply calmly. “You just have to keep her safe.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, his food forgotten, Rhys also sags back into his seat.
“As always, I’ll do my damn best.”