Chapter 3
3
brODY
M y hat is pulled low and sunglasses on as I chill in a booth by the window of this fancy restaurant Weston insisted I check out. The menu looks straight out of a 1950s diner, but they’re serving smoked salmon and avocado toast. Go figure.
I lift my steaming coffee to my lips, enjoying the bitter warmth, and skim the menu again. I’m starving after skipping dinner to chase ghosts out of state, and my frustration keeps piling up with every dead end.
After I eat, I’ll visit the big house by the bay that Micah owns on this side of town.
“Whatcha havin’, doll?” the server—a woman with jet-black hair and a Jersey accent thicker than syrup—asks.
“Surprise me,” I mumble without looking up, still scanning the restaurant through the side of my sunglasses. I’m never relaxed in public settings, no matter how hard I try.
“How hungry are ya?” she presses, her gaze lingering appreciatively over my broad shoulders.
I ignore her flirty looks. “Starving.”
She bites her lower lip, scribbling on her pad. “I gotchu. The superhero breakfast.”
The irony almost makes me laugh. If only she knew I wasn’t feeling very heroic right now—more like a guy chasing shadows, haunted by past failures. She walks away, and I notice the local newspaper lying on the edge of the table. The bold headline says JANE DOE IDENTIFIED .
I barely register the server topping off my coffee when my heart starts racing. Harper and Micah walk in, and a sick feeling twists in my stomach at the sight of him touching her. My fingers tighten around the ceramic mug, knuckles going white. I didn’t expect him to bring her out in public, but, hey, it’s a nice surprise. My luck couldn’t have timed this better.
Harper’s scowl tells me everything isn’t as perfect as she wants people to think. I quickly unfold the newspaper, hiding behind it to watch their reflection in the tall windows as they sit behind me. Harper’s scent—a mix of coconut and vanilla—fills the air, and it’s sweet torture. I close my eyes, knowing I could pick her out in a crowd.
The server greets them and Harper immediately orders and Micah followers her lead. The tension stretches between them as their coffee is delivered.
Micah finally clears his throat. “Everything okay?”
Harper’s voice shakes, irritation and vulnerability creeping in. “That woman thought I was your daughter, and you said nothing.”
My jaw tightens, teeth grinding. He’s way too old for her—honestly, there are moments when I feel like I am too. Harper’s only thirty-two, and I’ll be forty in six months. Eight years. It’s one thing that has held me back. Truthfully, there’s a list of reasons we could never be together. But age was why I rejected her when she made a move on me at eighteen. Harper needed to grow up and experience the world. Dating a teenager at the age of twenty-six isn’t okay in my book. She was barely legal.
“Why does it matter?” Micah’s words are like nails on a chalkboard.
His dismissiveness sends a fresh wave of anger rushing through me. My fingers twitch, and I seriously want to smash his smug face in with this coffee mug. It takes everything in me to stay put and not make a scene. Getting arrested would do no one any good, especially not Harper.
“If you don’t understand why it matters, then I can’t explain it to you,” Harper shoots back, surprising me with the strength in her voice. I haven’t heard that in weeks. “Maybe I should’ve ordered from the kids menu, Daddy .”
Oh, she’s very pissed.
I almost choke on my coffee, trying not to laugh. I watch as the server brings over a plate, piled high with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash browns, her earlier flirtation forgotten in the tension between Harper and Micah.
Micah tries to save face. “Does it bother you that I’m twelve years older than you?”
“No,” Harper snaps back. “What bothers me is when the man I’m supposed to marry doesn’t claim me publicly.”
The thought of Harper marrying him hits me so fucking hard that it nearly takes my breath away. Time is precious, and life is fragile.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’ll address it moving forward if it upsets you so much.” Micah’s apology breaks me out of my thoughts. His words sound empty, but wrapped with a thin layer of care to cover his shitty facade.
“You know,” Micah goes on, changing his tone to sound kind, “I was thinking about this marriage discussion we had. What if we just went to the courthouse this week and got secretly married?”
My stomach drops. He’s trying to rush things, to trap her faster than even I thought.
Harper hesitates. “I need to think about it. This is too big of a decision to make on a whim.”
Good girl.
“You’re marrying me before the weekend, or I’m calling it all off,” Micah demands, and it’s too aggressive.
The silence that follows is intense. I want to turn around, to step in, to pull Harper away from him, but if I do that now, I might lose her for good. I swallow my anger, tasting the edge of defeat.
Harper pushes back. “Are you serious right now?”
Before Micah can respond, their food arrives. I quickly pay my bill, leaving a nice tip as a silent apology for having to deal with them.
Another minute passes, and neither of them says anything. I know when Harper is really pissed, she says nothing at all.
“You’re not eating,” Micah snaps, his voice loaded with anger.
Harper fires back defiantly, “Are you going to force me? Ground me?”
A small, proud smile tugs at my lips. Whatever Billie said to her last night must’ve sparked something in her. That fire within her has been missing.
“Starve then,” Micah retorts, and I hear his fork scrape harshly against the plate.
“Excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room,” Harper says, and I hear her move across the booth.
“Don’t take too long,” Micah warns, and it feels like a threat.
I don’t waste any time, and I move toward the hallway that leads to the restrooms. I cross my arms and wait, my heart racing as the door finally swings open.
She looks so damn pretty with her brown hair in bouncy curls. Her blue-gray eyes shine when they meet mine, but they’re full of surprise, irritation, and something softer underneath. She freezes.
“What the hell are you doing here, Brody?” she snaps, glancing around nervously.
“Saving your ass,” I reply, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back into the restroom.
I lock the door and glance around for any escape windows, but there aren’t any.
“I don’t need to be saved.” She hesitates, but doesn’t fight me. Her breath quickens as I take off my sunglasses and lock eyes with her. “You need to leave,” she says, her voice shaky.
“Not a fucking chance. You’re coming with me, Harp.”
“No, I’m not,” she insists, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her.
“Yes, you are,” I whisper harshly, desperation thick in my voice. “Where’s your phone?”
“He took it from me,” she admits.
I shake my head in disbelief. “And you think that’s okay? Wake up, Harper !”
Her eyes blaze with intensity, fierce yet vulnerable. “You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”
I almost laugh, frustration and heartache mixing inside me. “You wish.”
“What do you plan to accomplish?” she asks, her voice breaking, tears shimmering.
“Micah is Billie’s stalker,” I blurt, needing her to understand how serious this is. “The guy from her twenty-first birthday. The one who broke into her house and jacked off in her bed. The guy who terrorized you both for years. That’s who you’ve been fucking. What a nightmare.”
“You’re lying ,” she whispers, eyes wide, searching mine desperately for the reassurance I can’t give.
“I wish I were. Now, come with me willingly, or I’m taking you later by force.”
“I can’t,” she says.
“Why?”
A loud knock startles us both.
“Harper?” Micah’s voice is full of fake concern.
“Sorry, my stomach hurts really bad,” she quickly replies, clearly shaken.
Micah’s response is smooth, way too calm. “Just a few more minutes. Okay?”
“I’ll try,” she says.
Those minutes pass by.
I lean in closer to her, keeping my voice low and urgent. “I will find you, and I will come for you. That’s a promise. You’re my responsibility, Harper.”
She stiffens. “No, I’m not. Let me handle this.”
“No can do, baby girl ,” I say, throwing Micah’s words back at her.
Anger radiates from her. “He’ll never let me leave with you.”
“You’re right. Only problem is, I don’t give a fuck. Oh, before you go, where are you staying?” I step closer until we’re almost touching. “At his prison by the bay? The one with the balcony and tall fucking walls?”
I study her, and her silence says it all.
“The confirmation I needed. I’m coming for you, Harper,” I promise, leaning down so my words brush against her ear. “We’ll do this your way, but just know that I live for this shit. I love a good game of cat and mouse.”
I back up, and a smirk spreads across my lips as I see the fury ignite even brighter in her eyes. “And you must love it too.”
“I’m so used to you not saying much, and now you won’t shut the fuck up. Lucky me,” she snaps, each word dripping with venom.
Her agitation is intoxicating, captivating, and so fucking hot.
I know her anger isn’t really aimed at me, but at the nightmare she’s stuck in.
Harper is ridiculously independent, and I knew she wouldn’t walk out of this diner with me today, but I don’t need her to.
“I know you’re pissed.”
“Yes, I am,” she says.
“At yourself,” I add.
There’s something thrilling about seeing her emotions finally break free from the polished surface she’s tried to maintain since getting with him.
“Can’t handle the truth?” I ask calmly. “Looks like no one else has managed to get through to that pretty little head of yours. Not your best friend. Not your brother. So, they sent me. How many red flags will you ignore, Harp? Have some fucking self-respect. Are you going to marry that psycho, knowing who he really is? Tell me.”
“Fuck you,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes. Her voice drips with disdain, and I can tell I struck a nerve.
But this is a truth only I can share because, deep down, she knows I won’t lie to her. Her jaw tightens, nostrils flaring like she’s about to scream—or maybe slap me. Honestly, I almost wish she would. At least then I’d know I made an impact.
I promised her honesty years ago, and I’ve stuck to it, whether she’s liked it or not. No one else is as straightforward with her as me.
“I have this under control,” she adds.
I chuckle. “No, you don’t.”
“I need to go. So, please fuck off.”
“Is that an invitation?” I tease, pushing her buttons, daring her to lose it.
For a second, she looks like she’s about to blow up, but then she holds back, and it says more than any words could. For a few tense moments, we just stare at each other. Harper opens her mouth once, then shuts it, deciding not to waste her breath on a comeback. Her silence always hits harder than any insult.
She turns and storms away, her heels clicking against the tiles as the door slams behind her. The sound echoes in my chest, and her leaving feels heavier than I thought it would.
Standing alone in the empty restroom, I let out a frustrated sigh. I didn’t want to catch her off guard, but what choice did I have? Every word I said was true, every threat a promise. Tonight, I’m coming for her. She might hate me, she might fight me, but at least she’ll be safe. I don’t trust Micah Rhodes.
When I finally leave, I cross the street to a little café and sit at a table where I can see Harper and Micah clearly. I grab a black coffee and focus on them. Harper’s body language says it all—she’s tense, her shoulders are tight, and she looks away every time Micah gets too close. She seems sick, and I hope the weight of what I told her has finally hit her.
A week ago, I tried to warn her that Micah was trouble. She brushed me off like it was nothing. Classic Harper. Stubborn and proud.
I’m determined to dig up every dirty secret and twisted thing he’s done. I hired some dark-web data miners, but I haven’t heard back yet—hopefully, I will soon. I’m going to take him down personally. For Billie and for Harper.
He kisses her, and I roll my eyes when she gives him a fake smile. She’s so easy to read, or maybe I’ve just memorized her like a book.
The thought of her being stuck with Micah, even for another day, makes me fucking sick. But I know Harper too well—if I push too hard, she’ll just run further into his arms to prove a point.
This isn’t the first time she’s ignored my concerns. His charm and polished look blinded her. And I’ve watched them together on more than one occasion, noticing their weird dynamic. Nothing about the relationship has ever seemed normal. They’ve never spent more than two days together, and now he’s pushing for marriage this week —in Rhode Island, of all places, where annulments don’t exist, only messy divorces.
I grit my teeth, simmering as I watch them. Part of me wants to let her live that painful I told you so moment. Her stubbornness will be her downfall. Harper has always had to touch the stove to see if it’s hot instead of just taking everyone’s word for it. But I can’t let her suffer, no matter how much she drives me wild and infuriates me.
Micah points aggressively at her, and rage floods through me, nearly making me jump out of my seat. I tell myself to stay calm, silently promising that the second he lays a finger on her, I’ll unleash years of pent-up anger I’ve had for the faceless terror that hurt my cousin.
Harper should’ve seen through his fake, over-the-top charm. But she wants to believe in love so bad that she’ll overlook the shortcomings, the weird vibes and tension, and settle for less when she can do so much better. She deserves the absolute fucking best, and he ain’t it. Then again, I’m not sure anyone will ever be good enough for her.
I focus on Harper and Micah through the big glass window. Harper looks sick, her eyes going from confused to horrified, like she’s realizing who Micah Rhodes really is.
Frustration bubbles up in me—at Micah, at Harper’s stubbornness, and especially at how helpless I feel. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down.
I won’t let Harper be another regret. Not this time. Not ever again.
I take a sip of my coffee, and its darkness matches my mood perfectly.
Tonight, this ends.
Harper’s either leaving on her own or I’m dragging her out myself. I glance at her pretty face again, my heart aching under my anger. She looks lost and confused as she silently pieces it together.
I know she’s upset with me right now, but she’ll be grateful later. She’ll be alive to feel that anger because, right now, I’m not sure what Micah is capable of, but I have an idea.
No matter what it takes or how much she fights it, Harper Alexander is coming with me tonight.