15. Harris
15
HARRIS
“ P lease be safe,” I begged into Rachel’s hair. “Keep your eyes peeled.” I pulled back, and my gaze bore into hers. “Be vigilant?—”
“Harris.” Rachel clamped a hand over my mouth. “I won’t do anything risky. I’ll spend the afternoon at the mall.” A grimace pulled at her expression, but she tried to hide it by kissing my cheek. “It’ll be a ton of fun shopping for maternity clothes. Yay, wide elastic waistbands and tent-sized shirts!” Her exaggerated fist-pump was not convincing.
If Darryl was looking for an opportunity, I wanted to give him one. I figured the asshole would be more likely to break into the house when he thought no one was home, hence Rachel’s shopping trip. I, too, would be going, but not for long. I leaned down and kissed Rachel.
“If you find anything with fairies?—”
Rachel whapped my shoulder, but the light in her eyes remained dull. “I’ll be sure to buy it in your size.”
“As long as you bring me heels to match.” I cupped her cheek. “This will be over soon.” The empty promise tasted like ash on my tongue. I could only hope I caught Darryl before the bastard hurt Rachel.
“It’s not me you need to worry about.” Her expression soured. “ You’re the one running into harm’s way. I don’t care how much training you’ve had, you’re not bulletproof.”
We’d fought long and bitterly over how to deal with Darryl. Rachel had been insistent we leave him to the police, but I had refused to budge. The police had been looking for him, to no avail. Maybe they’d find him before he struck again…but maybe they wouldn’t. I couldn’t risk that. Couldn’t risk Rachel paying the price. The argument ran so hot we’d both stormed off, and we’d slept in separate bedrooms for the first time in days. Then, this morning, Rachel had slipped into bed beside me, ending the cold shoulder I’d endured all night.
I swallowed. I was nervous, but I couldn’t let it show. Not about Darryl—I could handle that fool. But being apart from Rachel, not knowing what might happen.
“The mall should be open by now,” I said. Sunday hours were abbreviated, but that would work out fine. I didn’t want Rachel gone all day. Just long enough to give Darryl a chance to strike.
I stood on the porch and pretended to watch her taillights disappear. My actual purpose was twofold: to let Darryl see me, if he was lurking around, and to survey the area for signs of threat. I didn’t spot anything, and I went back inside, grabbed my wallet and car keys and headed down the drive. If Darryl was watching, I imagined he’d probably wait five minutes or so to make sure no one looped back, then he’d do what he’d come to do, whatever that was.
I wasn’t going to let him.
I pulled into a private drive a short way up the road, locked up the Mustang, and turned back through the woods. I sprinted till I crossed onto Rachel’s land, then hunkered in the bushes, scanning the property for anything amiss. Seeing nothing, I circled behind the house, running bent over, low to the ground.
I let myself in through the back and hurried upstairs, into the nursery, to wait for Darryl. Here, I could see without being seen—the road and the driveway, the yard on one side. I could even see the back lawn if I left the door open, out through the window at the end of the hall. That covered the obvious points of ingress: front door, back door, and side door. Everything but the windows along the west side.
Perfect. I inhaled, then scowled at the purr of an engine. A van was approaching—big, brown, and… shit . It had the UPS logo on its side.
“Go away,” I muttered.
The van pulled up the drive. I willed it away. I paid for three-day delivery. This is day two.
The UPS man got out. He loaded two big boxes onto a dolly, pushed them to the porch, and marched up the stairs. He knocked, and I was tempted to go answer it. Rachel would love to come home to this. She’d be so surprised. She’d picked out a crib, but I’d found a better one, and I’d gone behind her back and changed the order. It was expensive as hell, but totally worth it. It wasn’t just a crib, but a work of art, embellished all over with roses, tulips, and daisies, etched into the white-painted wood.
The UPS man knocked again. I stayed where I was. I couldn’t be home right now, in case Darryl was watching.
An exasperated sigh drifted up from below. I heard shuffling, then a smack on the door, one of those sticky notes. Come pick up your parcel . Yeah, I’d do that, but first, there was Darryl to be dealt with.
I settled back by the window as the brown van pulled out. The new crib would go right here, where I was crouching. My kid would sleep here, in a warm nest of flowers. My kid and Rachel’s, tucked up so sweet. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, the image of my sleeping child gripping me hard. Tiny curled fists. Round little cheeks. Quiet little baby snores.
I whirled abruptly as the room went dark. My senses all sharpened, my body on alert. If he’d cut off the power, Darryl had to be here.
I lunged for the doorway, only to stop in my tracks. The hall light was on, and the light from downstairs. Darryl hadn’t snuck by me and cut off the power. The bulb in the nursery had just burned out.
I took a deep breath to center myself and turned back the way I’d come. Rachel kept spare bulbs in the nursery closet. I leaned up to retrieve one, and the floor dipped beneath me. I jumped back, and a floorboard snapped up, then back down, clapping back into place like the lid of a box. I stared. What the hell? That wasn’t safe.
I bent and pried at the floorboard, but it wouldn’t come up. That was weird. Two seconds ago, it’d been loose enough to go flying. Now, it was locked in place, tight as a drum. I probed at it, pressing along the sides. When I reached the end of the board, it pushed in with a snick , and when I let go, it snapped up again, the back end anchoring it as if by a hinge. Squinting, I spied something in the space underneath.
Adrenaline raced through me. Could this be the treasure? Reaching in, I encountered something smooth and soft, wrapped in what felt like twine. I pulled the stash out and exhaled in wonder. “Look at you,” I whispered, pivoting on my crouched heel to get more light. A thick bundle of letters had been tied in a stack—old letters, ancient, faded, and brown. Holy shit. Holy shit . This had to be the treasure.
Footsteps came scuffling somewhere below, then a muffled whimper. I dropped the letters and surged to my feet. I glided out of the nursery, snapping into Marine mode—silent and deadly, on high alert. Smooth as silk, natural as breathing, I drew my Glock. I thumbed off the safety and that sound came again. That tiny, pained whimper. Rachel . Downstairs.
I flowed down the stairs, skipping the squeaky tread, and spotted Rachel. She’d already seen me. She opened her mouth. I shook my head no, but I was too late.
“Harris,” she whispered, her eyes huge and frightened.
“Shut up,” Darryl snapped. He jabbed his black Smith & Wesson into her temple. “One more step, and I’ll shoot her.”
Rachel whimpered again and swayed like she might faint.
I gripped my Glock, but I didn’t have a clear shot. Darryl was using Rachel as a human shield, like a motherfucking coward.
“I know you found the treasure,” he said. Give it to me or she dies.”
Rachel
I trembled in Darryl’s grip. He was sweating, or I was, through both of our shirts. My legs were like jelly, my guts all in knots. Bile rose in my throat, and I thought I might puke. That would probably startle Darryl, and then he might?—
The barrel of the gun dug into my temple, and I flinched at the pain. I should’ve stayed at the mall. Should’ve waited for Harris. But I’d forgotten my ginger chews, and I’d just felt so sick . And the pharmacy wasn’t far, just down the street. How could I have known Darryl was waiting, tucked in my back seat?
I locked the damn doors. How’d he even manage to get in?
It didn’t matter. He’d broken in somehow, and the second I’d pulled out, he’d nearly scared me to death, popping up like some nightmare Jack-in-the-box.
“Drive,” he’d said, and I’d driven. What choice did I have?
Now Harris stared past me, his eyes locked on Darryl. He’d gone still as a statue. Was he even breathing?
“The treasure,” Darryl demanded, his breath so bad that my stomach churned anew. “I know you found it.”
But we hadn’t. We hadn’t. We’d found an old dog collar. Oh, God, no. My baby . Panic fluttered in my chest. Don’t hurt my baby . Not for this. Not for nothing.
Harris’s face revealed no emotion. He lowered his Glock, his stance going loose. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked…bored?
Don’t let him hurt our baby, I wanted to scream, but my throat refused to work.
Harris lounged against the doorframe. “And you think your threats will work, why?”
What? His tone, cold as ice, chilled me to the bone. Harris…our baby .
“What do you mean why ?” Darryl leaned into me, the gun gouging my temple. “I’ve got your woman.”
Harris chuckled with no warmth and put his free hand on his hip. “You mean the woman who ruined my life?”
I made a wounded sound. I’d always thought heartbreak was a metaphorical thing, but the pain was real, physical, lancing through my chest. My panicked thoughts took on a new level of frenzy. I gaped at Harris. Was this true? Did he mean it? I flashed back to the moment I’d asked Harris out. I’d said us and he’d frowned, and I’d felt that same pain: were we not an us ? Was that not what he wanted? But then, he’d smiled, and my heart had knit together. Which had been real, his frown or his smile?
Darryl laughed, jerky, nearly knocking me off my feet. “I’m not falling for that.”
Harris scratched his chest, then his sides, like his comfort was more important than the gun to my head.
Oh Jesus . My heart sank. He really didn’t care. I thought about all those times he’d gone cold on me. The hospital, the crash, the distance between us I’d marked down to stress—was it just that his mask had slipped then? Was that the real Harris?
“Quit playing,” Darryl said. “You won’t let me hurt her.”
Harris glanced at me, and his lip curled. “If you believe that, you’re stupid as fuck.” He shifted his weight to one leg and hardened his expression. “She got pregnant on purpose to trap me into marriage. Poked holes in the condoms, maybe—hell if I know what a woman that desperate would do.” His bitter gaze flicked to me, then turned dismissive. “Way I see it, you’re doing me a favor. I keep the treasure and lose the damn brat.”
I gasped. The damn brat? My baby? How could he say that, unless—it was true.
It was true, all of it, my worst fears come to life.
Hope died, and my heart broke. The blood drained from my head. My legs gave out. I crumpled, and Darryl lost his grip on me. He scrambled to keep me standing, but I pitched forward, just as a deafening shot pierced the air.
I screamed, dropping to my knees. Darryl jerked, then let go. I turned to look, and I saw him topple, blood seeping from the brand-new hole in his head. My stomach lurched, and this time, I couldn’t stop it. I threw up everything I’d eaten since what felt like forever and kept on dry-heaving till my retches turned to sobs.
Harris.
I looked up, and he was lowering his gun. He jammed it into its holster and took a step toward me.
“No,” I wheezed, half-crawling away. My throat was burning, my eyes blurred with tears, but I had to stop him. “Don’t come near me.”
“Rachel?” Harris searched my face. “Are you hurt?”
I wiped my mouth on the hem of my T-shirt. “Get out,” I croaked.
Harris reeled back like I struck him. “What? Talk to me.”
“I mean it, Harris.” I pointed toward the door, my arm shaking so bad I had to drop it. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
He blinked. “Rachel, you’re in shock.”
“Probably, yeah.” My eyes strayed to Darryl, but I forced them back to Harris. “But I’m also thinking clearly for the first time in weeks. You’re no longer welcome here.” I studied his face, but his expression hadn’t changed, still cold. Still distant, that thousand-yard stare. “I doubt you care, but I can send you a notice when the baby is born. After that, you won’t hear from either of us again. We’re no longer your burden.” I’d raise this child on my own, and that would be fine. How stupid had I been to fall for his act?
“Wait, you…you believed what I said? Rachel, I was just?—”
“The damn brat ?”
Harris flinched. “Rachel, no…” He stepped forward again, but I backed away, not wanting him anywhere near me. “If you’d just listen?—”
“Oh, I listened,” I shot back. “I heard you loud and clear.”
His expression hardened. “Another decision you’re making without consulting me first.” A derisive grunt fell from his tightening lips. “But why am I surprised? Why should this be any different from all the other times you’ve cut me out? You never wanted me in your life or our child’s. You’ll jump on any excuse to grab back your freedom.”
“My freedom ?” I laughed. “I trapped you , remember? And speaking of decisions, how about yours? You painted the nursery without asking, and what did I say? Thanks . You assumed our child would have your name, like an accessory, not a person. It’s all about you . It’s always been about?—”
“The nursery was a surprise, not some sneak attack. I wouldn’t have ditched you if you hated the color.” Harris paced back and forth, fists clenched at his sides. “Right from the start, you made sure I knew you didn’t need me. You never saw me as part of your future. I was just the dumbass who didn’t want to believe it.”
I bristled. Oh, hell no. He’d been the one with one foot out the door. And I was right about to tell him that when he literally started walking away, turning his back on me and heading up the stairs.
“Where are you going?” I demanded.
“To get my stuff,” he spat back. I followed, not wanting to be left with Darryl’s body. Harris glowered at me as he tossed his duffle on the bed.
“In case you care—” He dug through the dresser, clothes flying in the air. “—I found the treasure.” He shoved his things in the bag. “In the nursery closet, you’ll find a bundle of old letters. There’s a secret compartment under the floorboards. I popped it by accident, changing a bulb.”
He snatched his duffle up and made for the door. “I’ll wait on the porch for the police. Once they’re done questioning me, I’ll be gone as commanded.”