CHAPTER 40
harley
Inuzzled into the crook of Maverick’s neck, breathing in the smoky scent of him and letting it fill my lungs.
His fingers moved through my hair and down my spine in lazy, absent-minded tracks.
This right here… his warmth, his touch, his presence…
it was infinitely comforting. Each touch was grounding and made it that much harder to think about leaving.
I’d spent the night with him. The weight of his confession and my decision had left me worn down.
Sleep hadn’t made me feel any better. Not when my mother left one message asking where I was, as if she didn’t already know.
Her name on my phone made me replay our conversation in my head, and it only made me feel awful all over again. The cycle was vicious and never-ending.
“I have to go home,” I muttered. At the very least, I had to get my stuff. Maybe it was trivial, but they were my things. Clothes, a few books, and things from my father. Those were things I wanted to take with me.
And as ridiculous as it was, I wanted to say goodbye to Clifford. I felt like I owed him that. He’d taken care of me when no one else did. I couldn’t just leave without telling him.
I also needed closure with my mother. If she didn’t know, there was no doubt in my mind that she’d send the police after us. After Maverick. Because she’d blame him for me leaving. She would make it a problem that neither of us could ignore.
“I know.” The deep rumble of his voice made me hold on tighter. I really didn’t want to leave him. “You’ll be back.”
It wasn’t a question. Just a statement full of the trust and understanding about the decision we’d made together. Even though neither of us knew what came next, it was okay. It’d be okay. We could do this, and it’d be okay.
“I don’t want to,” I admitted.
“Yup, know that too,” Maverick said. His fingers tightened in my hair, as if trying to comfort me. “It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “And then I’m taking you out to dinner after it’s all over to celebrate.”
I smiled against his skin. I liked the idea of that. It was something I could cling to as I made myself roll away from him and get out of bed. Hanging around wouldn’t solve my problems today.
The sight of Sheriff Kramer’s car and a squad car in our drive made my stomach drop out.
Had my mother called them because I didn’t reply?
Did she think I was missing? Panic bubbled up at the potential shit show I was about to walk into.
Yeah, I’d made the mess, but the idea of dealing with it still stressed me out.
It was almost over.
I just had to keep reminding myself of that single fact. Just a little longer, and I’d be free. Free to leave all of this behind me forever.
I drove alongside the squad car and parked. As I climbed out, the officer paused his conversation. His carefully composed expression didn’t help my nerves any. I nodded as I passed and hurried into the house.
Clifford stood quietly by the door, just watching and waiting.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“It’s best to let your mother tell you,” he whispered and said nothing else. The angry look on his face worried me. There wasn’t a lot that upset Clifford—at least not that I’d seen.
My gaze flicked up as my mother came out of the living room with Sheriff Kramer.
“We’ll keep you updated when we have him in custody,” Sheriff Kramer was saying to my mother.
“What’s going on?” I asked. She waved me off, and the Sheriff completely ignored my existence.
“Thank you,” she said to the Sheriff. Her sickly sweet tone made my stomach turn.
My mother never talked like that—not unless she was manipulating someone in her favor.
I’d heard it enough to recognize it. “I appreciate your speedy and detailed attention to this matter. I wouldn’t feel safe without it. ”
“Of course, ma’am,” he replied. “You have a good day. I’ll be in touch.”
“Good, I’ll be waiting for an update,” she told him.
“Son.” The Sheriff nodded curtly in my direction while he left.
“What happened?” I asked again as soon as the door was shut.
“I was dealing with a problem,” my mother said so flippantly that it made my stomach drop out. What the hell did that mean?
“What problem?” I followed her through the living room. “What problem requires the Sheriff to come to our house?”
“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. Go to your room, Harley.”
Her casual and vague responses made my pulse spike.
“No! Not until you talk to me,” I exclaimed. She rounded so fast on me that I took one long step back out of surprise and a little bit of fear. The room shrank around us, growing impossibly hot.
“You will watch your tone when you’re talking to me,” she snapped. “I told you that I am dealing with a problem, and that is all you need to know right now.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I repeated. “What problem?”
Some part of me had a sinking feeling that I knew what she was referring to.
“The one you created,” she clipped and walked away.
Maverick. She meant Maverick. I don’t have a clue what she was planning, but I just knew it’d be bad. Whatever it was, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let it ruin us.
I pulled out my phone and called Maverick.
Nothing.
It went straight to voicemail.
I kept calling and desperately hoped he’d answer.