Chapter 16
16
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T wilight wraps around us like a whispered secret. We watch episodes of Frasier and toss cheese puffs into each other’s mouth during commercial breaks. Even though Harper smiles, I can sense her anxiety rising. I can see it in how her shoulders tense and the way she gets lost in her head.
“You good?” I ask, turning down the volume and facing her.
She shakes her head. “Lost in thought. Trying to replay everything that happened and figure out what was real and what wasn’t, you know? My life wasn’t mine for two months, and I was fed so many lies,” she says, glancing at me with a fragile expression.
An ache settles beneath my ribs. I close the distance between us carefully, my voice low and reassuring as I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She exhales, tension visible in her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
After a few moments, I speak. “Harp, at some point—not right now—I need to know more about what happened. If you can share anything that you remember about things he said that seemed off, it would be helpful while I substantiate a case against him. Micah’s a very bad person with ties to dangerous criminals. The information I have so far is extremely unsettling, especially knowing you were alone with him.”
She tenses, her eyes drifting away from me. “He was so good at lying and making me doubt myself when things didn’t seem right. I’d ask questions, and he’d tell me I was overreacting or was paranoid.”
I tuck loose strands of hair behind her ear, studying her. “That’s how manipulation works. I’m so fucking sorry you went through that. I want him to pay for what he did to you and other women. This is a pattern, Harp, and he needs to be stopped before he seriously hurts someone else.”
She hesitates. “There was something—a note from a cashier in Newport the day he forced me to parade that pregnancy test around the store.” She takes a shaky breath, clearly unsettled by the memory. “It said, That man almost murdered my daughter. Leave him now! ”
Her words land heavily between us.
“Did Micah see it?”
“No. I flushed it in the toilet right after I read it.” She swallows hard. “It shook me. Between that and the fake pregnancy test, Billie’s warning text, the manipulation—” Her breathing quickens as her anxiety spirals higher, distress clouding her features.
I nod. “I texted you from Billie’s phone when she told me what happened.”
Harper’s mouth drops open before she gives me a half smile. “I should’ve known. Your words are the only ones that seem to rattle me. Always saving me.”
I give her a soft grin. “Always. But it’s never a burden.”
Silence stretches on, but I let her speak when she’s ready.
“He promised he’d never let me go. It was a threat, Brody.”
Her breathing grows ragged, and I twist my body to hold her cheeks in my hands.
“Hey, breathe. Look at me, Harper.”
Her gaze meets mine, her eyes glassy.
“You’re safe now. He never had you, and I’ll be damned if he ever gets close to you again. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I rub my thumb across her cheek, then wipe away a few tears that spilled. With each passing second, I grow more furious, remembering that vengeance for what he did is still mine.
Her eyes desperately hold mine as she battles with herself. “This is overwhelming.”
“I know, Harp.” I keep my tone calm and steady, anchoring her. “We’ll figure it out. Together. He will get what’s coming to him. For you and Billie. Enough is e-fucking-nough. He needs to be stopped because he will continue down this destructive path, and I’m so close to figuring out how to end him legally, even if I want to put a bullet between his eyes.”
“Death is the easy way out. He deserves to watch his life clock run out behind bars.” Harper’s breathing evens, and the panic leaves her eyes.
“If you ever need to talk through any of this, I’m a great listener.”
She laughs. “No shit. I’ve spent hours with you where you said no more than two words.”
I smile and shrug. “I’ll never judge you.”
“Thank you,” she says as she visibly relaxes.
A yawn escapes her, and I can see exhaustion on her face.
A long silence fills the room, and her breaths turn soft and steady.
“You should go to sleep.”
“You’re right,” she says, no longer fighting it.
Harper has been lost in her head all day, and I gave her space while she read one of the thriller novels from the bookshelf. But I was only at arm’s length from her the whole day.
I stand, and she follows me into the bedroom. She crawls under the blankets, and I sit on the edge of the bed.
“You’re not joining me?”
I shake my head. “I have work to do, unfortunately. I’ll stay with you until you’re in dreamland. Deal?”
“Okay. Will you tell me a bedtime story?” She smiles in the dim light, eyes half closed. “Something to distract me.”
A chuckle escapes me as I think about the innocence of her request. “A bedtime story, huh?”
She nods sleepily. “Make it a good one.”
I lean back against the headboard and clear my throat. “Once upon a time … there was a very stubborn princess. Her name was Little Miss Disaster.”
Her smile widens a little, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispers playfully, “Sounds familiar.”
I laugh, continuing in a gentle, teasing tone. “She loved napping so much that the whole kingdom called her Sleeping Beauty. But she had a problem—she snored like a baby bear.”
She reaches over, finding my side and tickling me. I scoot away from her.
“I do not snore.”
“Oh, she definitely did,” I whisper dramatically. “But luckily, there was a brave knight who didn’t mind. He was too busy making sure no trolls disturbed her royal naps.”
Her smile fades into a gentle sigh. Her breathing deepens, her body relaxing into the mattress, completely at ease.
My voice lowers even further, barely above a whisper. “And that knight promised himself he’d always protect her, no matter what. So, he rescued her from an evil motherfucker’s castle. He thought she’d kick and scream the entire way, but she didn’t.”
When I’m certain she’s fully asleep, I lean over and press a soft kiss on her forehead. “Night, Harp.”
I slip from the bed, careful not to disturb her peaceful rest. The tenderness in my chest sharpens into urgency as I move to the living room and reach for my laptop.
Harper might not be ready to unpack everything, but I have to act because time is running out. I will uncover and expose the truth about him.
The cabin is silent now, and the only sound is the soft hum of my laptop. I settle on the couch and rub my eyes before pulling up a secure internet connection. The browser opens, and my fingers move swiftly over the keys. The message from the cashier in Newport replays on an endless loop in my mind.
That warning feels darker, less like a single incident and more like a sinister pattern.
I type quickly, scanning sketchy databases and encrypted forums, probing into anonymous threads where people discuss things too dangerous to say openly. Within moments, results flood my screen, threads titled vaguely, cryptically. I focus on one in particular: Missing Women—Newport, Rhode Island .
I pause, recalling the newspaper headline I glimpsed in the coffee shop, the one I brushed off at the time. I search the internet for missing women in Newport and see what comes up.
Another Newport Woman Reported Missing
Authorities Still Searching for Answers for the Four Missing Women
Newport Jane Doe #2 Identified
I find a few forum posts about it from the locals, and I scan anonymous messages, filled with vague hints and fearful warnings.
One comment immediately stops me:
She was spotted with someone from a powerful family. Vanished overnight. There was no real investigation, and the police brushed it under the rug. Everyone went quiet after that. They’ll never find her.
Another user responds hesitantly, as if afraid to type the words:
I’ve heard whispers about someone prominent in Newport targeting pretty women, thirty-five and under. He’s connected enough to erase evidence and cover his tracks. Girls just disappear, and nobody dares question it. I wonder if his fiancée knows.
My pulse quickens, dread filling my chest.
A third post, short and fearful, cements the darkness seeping into my bones:
People who dig into him vanish too. He’s untouchable and powerful enough that even mentioning his name is dangerous. No one messes with him due to his profession. Local police and judges are in his pocket. He’ll never pay for what he’s done.
I sit back slowly, exhaling.
The dots connect—Harper’s note, the missing women, the eerie headline from the newspaper at the restaurant. It all points to something disturbing, buried under Newport’s pristine surface.
Micah Rhodes is a murderer.
My gaze flicks toward the bedroom, where Harper sleeps, unaware of what she narrowly escaped. This is far deeper than any of us imagined. Her confusion, panic, and fear were her internal alarm bells screaming for her to get out, but she was already too far in.
Determined to not let this happen to anyone else, I grab my phone and quickly type a message to Asher and Nick. After I rescued Harper, Asher and Nick agreed to help me take Micah down. The three of us have the skills and contacts to settle this once and for all. I could text my cousin’s, but that’s last resort. I want them to enjoy being married and not get involved in potentially dangerous situations. It’s personal for Asher and for Nick too.
Brody
We need to meet ASAP. In person. Contact Weston for info.
Asher
Considering it done. Tomorrow.
Nick
See you then.
Their replies come fast, both confirming without hesitation.
Setting the phone aside, I close my laptop, my eyes fixed on the darkness.
Sleep won’t come easily to me tonight. But I’ll hold my ground, ready to defend Harper from whatever threat lurks. I will unravel every fucking secret Micah holds until he faces the fire for what he’s done. As I lean back against the cushions, my heart thuds unevenly, anxiety threaded through my pulse. Even with the cabin wrapped in silence, my thoughts race, every uncovered detail pressing hard on my chest.
It would’ve taken me longer to put these pieces together if it wasn’t for Harper. Sure, I knew he was a pile of dog shit and was making dirty deals in back rooms, but what he’s currently involved in is much deeper than I thought. Micah Rhodes has to be stopped. Now.
Harper and Billie both deserve peace, safety, a life untouched by this motherfucker. I don’t know the details of everything he did to Harper, but the thought of it makes my jaw clench in frustration.
Suddenly, as if summoned by the ache deepening inside me, a memory of Eden rushes forward, and it’s bittersweet, strikingly clear despite how long it’s been.
Eden sits cross-legged on my couch, looking at me with those gentle eyes, her voice warm.
“We were always temporary, Brody,” she says, regret softening her words. “But you deserve more than this. You deserve someone who can be everything you need. I’m not emotionally available.”
I shake my head, stubbornly denying her logic. But Eden smiles, almost knowingly, leaning forward to touch my cheek briefly with her fingertips.
“Harper,” she says, her gaze steady. “You’re clearly in love with her. Maybe you should finally give her a chance.”
“Are you breaking this off?” I ask.
“Brody, why are you fighting this? We were a fling. That’s it. I care about you, but I cannot be with you in the capacity you want. You know who you should spend the rest of your life with. It’s not me.”
I brushed her suggestion aside, too tangled in complications and fears. But tonight, as I sit alone, Eden’s words carry new meaning, heavier than before. She knew what I always refused to see.
Harper has always been there, waiting, holding a piece of my heart I’ve never admitted was hers.
My breath catches at the thought, at the regret of not listening sooner. But maybe now, it’s finally time to honor Eden’s memory—to trust her wisdom, even in death, and actually let Harper in.
Pushing to my feet, I move slowly back toward the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. Harper lies curled on her side, the moonlight tracing her face. Her breathing is deep and peaceful, the earlier anxiety erased by sleep.
I slide into bed beside her, settling close without disturbing her. Almost instinctively, she shifts toward me, her body seeking mine. When her hand finds my chest, her fingers curl into my shirt, and I relax. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this.
Harper is exactly who I’ve always needed—and I’ll fight the whole damn world before I let anyone take her away from me.
* * *
I shift slowly, immediately aware of Harper nestled against me, her body pressed against my side. Her head rests comfortably in the curve of my shoulder, one arm loosely draped over my chest. I’m growing used to waking up like this. I lie still, savoring how perfectly she fits against me. It feels dangerously good, dangerously right.
As if sensing me, Harper moves closer with a soft sigh. Her hair tickles my skin, her breath warm against my neck, igniting something deeper inside me. The tension I’ve held at bay suddenly tightens, making my pulse quicken and my body ache with desire. My jaw clenches as I fight for control.
Slowly, Harper’s eyelashes flutter open, her sleepy eyes meeting mine. For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other, the intimacy stretching between us as I push hair from her face.
“Morning,” she whispers, her voice soft and husky with sleep, sending a rush of heat through me.
“Good morning,” I reply, knowing today is a new day, a new beginning.
Her eyes glance down, then widen when she notices what’s causing the sheet to tent upward. A soft, amused snicker slips from her lips before she bites back a grin.
“Really?” she teases, her eyes sparkling playfully. “You always wake up, ready for battle?”
I chuckle, embarrassment mingling with amusement. “Hey, I can’t help it.” I arch a brow at her. “You’ve been rubbing against me for hours.”
Harper’s mouth drops open, and laughter lights her eyes. “I have not!”
I grin slowly, tilting my head in challenge. “You absolutely have. You’re lucky I’m such a gentleman.”
Her eyes narrow playfully, her cheeks coloring deeper. “Oh, really? A gentleman?”
“Always.” I lean a fraction closer, removing some space between us. “Even when provoked by certain stubborn women who snore and sleep half naked.”
Her mouth falls open in mock outrage. “I do not snore. You keep saying that?—”
“It’s cute,” I tease, enjoying her flustered expression. “I’m all about honesty, babe.”
She huffs out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I think you’re confusing honesty with fantasy, Calloway.”
“Hmm,” I say, allowing my gaze to linger on her lips. “If you say so.”
Her breath catches, humor fading as the charged silence stretches on. The laughter from moments ago gives way to something deeper, something neither of us has been ready to name yet. But we both feel it wrapping around us in the morning sunlight.
“Asher and Nick know we’re here and are flying in for a quick visit. We have some very important things to discuss in person.”
“Today?” she says.
“Yes.” Before the moment slips away, I continue, “You’re so fucking pretty right after you wake up.”
“Thanks.” Harper ducks her head shyly, but the smile tugging at her lips reveals she likes my compliments. When she looks back up at me, her gaze is full of something I can’t quite place.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispers. “Especially when you’re honest.”
“I’ve got nothing but truths for you.” I say, warmth spreading through my chest as I take in this moment.
She eventually slides out from the sheets and moves across the room. Before leaving, Harper glances back at me with a smirk. “I’m awake, right?”
I smirk. “If we’re dreaming, please don’t wake me up.”