Chapter 26 - Harper
HARPER
Sitting out on the front porch with my feet on the rail as the waves crashed had become my favorite nighttime activity.
I closed my eyes and pushed aside my doubts and fears.
“It’s going to be okay, baby.” I rubbed my stomach and sighed.
I’d spent the last week reading every pregnancy book and website I could find.
I wanted to know everything about pregnancy, birth, and what to expect.
One thing I knew for certain, this baby meant the world to me.
Laughter rang out from the beach, followed by the sound of running steps. I smiled at the mental image of my neighbor’s kids chasing each other through the surf and into the house. They’d done it every night since my arrival, creating the first of many patterns I’d adopted since coming here.
My phone rang, and I reached for it, waiting until the last minute to open my eyes and check the screen. Lila. The initial tightening of fear eased into a smile, and I answered with a happy, “Hey, you. How’s everything going?”
“Nice try.” Lila scoffed into the phone. “You’re in so much trouble, Harper. You lied to me. You told me you’d taken care of things at work.”
“I did.” I sat forward, my feet sliding off the rail and hitting the wooden boards with a thud.
“You did? Then why did three very large, very upset men—the same men who rescued you from the hospital, I might add—show up at the house today asking if you were okay?”
They asked about me? My stupid, fragile heart leaped into motion, fluttering around my chest like a complete idiot.
“They’re worried, Harper. The least you can do is let them know you’re safe.
I thought they might barge into the house and turn it upside down looking for you.
” She huffed a Lila laugh, which was part annoyance, part smoky adoration.
“You’re tearing them apart, and I love you, but it’s not fair to keep them on edge like this.
Even if you won’t tell them why you left, tell them you’re safe. You owe them that much.”
“I know.” I ran a hand over my forehead and down my cheek. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to walk away if I talked to them before.”
“It’s been three days. You’re hidden away. As long as you don’t tell them where, you can keep hiding.”
That was the problem though. I had no idea if I could keep it a secret if they asked. I wanted to see them so much it physically hurt to ignore their messages. I should have responded. I took the coward’s way out by ignoring them. And now they thought I might be hurt.
Yeah, I was a real shithead. “I’ll text them. Let them know I’m okay.”
“Are you okay? Any more messages?”
I put the rocking chair in motion, the creak of wood matching the crash of water on sand just out of sight. Dad’s old summer house on Virginia Beach had come to me after he died. I’d not been back in years, but the peace and solitude were exactly what my broken heart needed.
“No. No more messages.” I scratched a chip of blue paint off the chair and flicked it to the ground. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. If you want to hide out at the beach by yourself, that’s your deal. I just wanted you to know that I’m not sure how much longer they’ll be able to stand it. They might back off if they hear you’re safe.”
Might. I would have to take the chance. I could always text them, then block their numbers. That would help me avoid any temptation in the future.
But I didn’t want to block them from my life. They were an experience I’d never forget. I had to protect that. “Thanks, Lila. You always have my back.”
“Ride or die, sister.” Lila laughed again, and this time it came out easier. “Call me if you need anything.”
“You’re the best. I appreciate you covering my tracks. I’ll text them so they’ll stop worrying.”
“Well, I don’t know if they’ll stop, but it might help.”
“I miss you.” I continued to rock, and my stomach grumbled a reminder I needed to eat.
Sitting out here contemplating my life and the choices I needed to make kept my mind churning day after day.
And I still didn’t have it figured out. How did I reconcile the life I’d created in New York, with a future that included a baby and not the men who’d fathered said child?
“Miss you too. Come home when you can. Which I hope is soon. The house is annoyingly silent without you.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I ended the call after a quick goodbye and stared at my phone, typing and retyping the message I’d known I needed to send. Hiding out at Dad’s house was one thing.
Hiding from Julian, Dante, and Alexander was something altogether different.
It was the coward’s way out. Necessary in this situation, but still cowardly enough that it hurt every time I let myself think about it.
What could I possibly say to them that would make them understand but not give everything away?
If they knew about the threats, they’d go absolutely postal.
I skipped from the half-formed message to the unknown number.
I’d saved every message and read them often enough that they were burned into my memory.
I read them again, just for the hell of it.
Who could they be from? Aside from Lila, I’d told no one about my plans to leave New York.
My email with my resignation had cited a vacation with extended leave of absence as my reason for leaving, but I hadn’t mentioned leaving the state.
And yet, I hadn’t gotten a single threatening message since emailing my resignation. Whoever sent the mystery messages must be watching without me knowing it.
My skin crawled with the sudden feeling of being watched.
I shuddered and wrapped my arms over my stomach.
The feeling persisted, going from a prickle of unease to full body goosebumps that raised the hair on the back of my neck.
I glanced left and right, but nothing stood out.
It wouldn’t, and I let that knowledge push me to my feet and into the house.
I locked the door behind me and pulled all the curtains closed.
No one knew me here, and the small beach house with its off white walls and beach themed decor had been rented out so many times through the Airbnb website that the neighbors hadn’t batted an eye when I pulled up and unpacked my car.
I checked the locks on the doors, then the windows, drawing the last of the curtains closed. A sudden sense of claustrophobia tugged at me. I’d already been forced out of my job and my home. Had they followed me here too, intent on some other nefarious activity?
What if the person watching me realized I would never get an abortion and decided to ruin my mens’ reputations out of spite? What if. What if.
I could what if all day every day and still never come to any concrete answers. I would never have those as long as the person pulling my strings remained in the shadows.
I wanted them yanked into the light, exposed for all the world to see. But that risked all of us, and that was the whole point of the bullshit resignation and my move to another state.
I pulled one of the rotisserie chickens from the refrigerator and added a side of potatoes and green beans, along with a glass of tea.
Checking the windows one last time, I carried my meal to the breakfast nook tucked away in the back corner of the kitchen and settled on the bench seat.
I used to have meals here every day during summer break.
Dad always took off for the summer and we’d come here.
I hadn’t realized how odd that was until I went to college and all my friends talked about how much they hated their parents.
They talked about rules and how they’d lashed out, how they loved college because it meant finally having freedom.
I hadn’t understood them. Dad was wonderful.
I’d never once wanted anyone else as a parent.
“That’s what I’m going to be for you.” I tapped my belly.
“Pretty soon, I’ll be able to feel you moving around in there.
I’m going to show you so many things. I’m going to love you and protect you with my whole heart.
You might only have one parent, but I’ll be the best parent ever. ”
Dad taught me how, and I’d carry that legacy forward with my baby.
But for now I had to face the men who’d helped me reach this point. I set my phone beside my plate and tapped out a message.
I’m sorry that I haven’t reached out. I’m fine. There’s no need to worry. I will not be returning to work, and I wish you all the best.
I read it five times, considered adding a bit more of an “I love you” vibe but resisted by the slimmest margin. If I admitted my feelings, they might say it back.
I’d wonder if they really meant it, even though my head told me often enough that these men did not do anything they did not want to do. And if they said it back, I’d be even more tempted to tell them the truth and let hell roast the person blackmailing me.
Which might be for the best. Except it all came back to the reason I’d left in the first place.
I was not worth them losing their reputation.
I would not take down the entire company because I’d fallen in love with all three of my bosses.
I ate my meal and pushed the plate aside to focus on the message.
Too bland. Too scripted. It needed more.
I added: I’m somewhere safe and I intend to stay there. I do not want you looking for me.
My mouth puckered at the lie, but I tapped send before I could change my mind.
The food churned in my gut, forcing me to my feet. I carried my dishes to the sink and washed them one by one, concentrating on every dirty speck to keep from second guessing the message I’d sent.
How long could I really hide out here? I’d have to work eventually. What about childcare? What kind of job would I find in Virginia? I would have to put down my previous employment, and any good employer would call Elevate to ask about me.
That one phone call would give away my location. But by then, they might be over me.
Honestly, it was pretty bold of me to think that I had any claim on their hearts. Once they read my message, they’d give up and move on.
Fuck my life. I hated the thought of them with anyone else “Do what has to be done, Harper.” I checked my phone because I couldn’t help myself.
No new messages. I opened the thread and one tiny word carved out my heart. Seen. They’d seen the message and not responded.
Everything I’d asked for, they’d given.
They would not text me again.
I’d lost them for good.
Fuck. Why did it hurt so much? It was the right thing to do, and I hated myself for being so weak that it took all my strength to put my phone down and retreat to another room before I caved and told them I hadn’t meant a single word.