Chapter 23 Harper
HARPER
A text lit up my phone screen.
From an unknown number.
Unknown: Hi, Harper.
Ice-cold dread hit me then.
That note. Silas had found my car parked at my new workplace. And now he’d found my new cell number.
Did he seriously think disguising himself behind an unknown number would fool me into thinking it wasn’t him? But Silas loved to play head games.
Maybe it wasn’t him though. Maybe it was just a robo call? Please let it be.
I sat up slowly, the sheets pooling around my waist as I stared at the screen.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Who do you think it is?
Unbelievable.
It was him. It was so like Silas to answer a question with a question.
The absolute balls on this man.
I could practically hear Silas’s smug voice in those words. Who do you think it is? Like this was some game. Like I was supposed to play along, beg him to leave me alone, give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had power over me.
Not anymore.
I thought about the girl who fled his apartment in the dark. Scared and weak. The girl who flinched at her own shadow. Who changed her number. Who moved hundreds of miles away just to escape him.
I didn’t want to be her anymore.
And honestly? After watching Knox—who still found ways to protect people, who still refused to cower, even when the system had every advantage over him—flex his strength, something hot and reckless surged through my chest. Maybe it was stupid.
Maybe I should have just blocked him and been done with it.
But I was so tired of letting him think he had some control over me.
I wanted him to know I wasn’t afraid anymore.
Even if that was only half true.
Me: I’m going to tell you one last time, Silas. Leave me the fuck alone.
Me: You’re manipulative. Controlling. Abusive.
Me: You hit me for the last time. I will NEVER take you back.
My fingers were shaking now, but I couldn’t stop. Every word felt like a brick I was laying between us. A wall he couldn’t climb.
Me: You might have gotten away with it before. The cops believed your bullshit story about me “falling.” But I will screenshot this entire conversation and send it to them. Along with your fucking note. I’ll get a restraining order. I’ll do whatever it takes.
Me: Stay the fuck away from me.
I was breathing hard, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
I waited, hoping he’d send a written threat so I’d finally have the proof I needed to get the law on my side here.
Finally, a message came through.
Unknown: This isn’t Silas.
I blinked.
My thumb paused mid-hover.
Unknown: This is Knox.
The phone nearly slipped from my fingers.
No. No way.
Knox was in prison. Inmates weren’t allowed cell phones. This had to be a trick. Some new manipulation tactic I hadn’t seen before.
Another message.
Unknown: Who the fuck is Silas?
My blood ran cold.
That wasn’t Silas’s voice. Silas would never ask that question. Silas would be defensive, deflecting, trying to flip the script and make me the villain.
This was … confusion. Real, genuine confusion.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
Me: How do you have a cell phone? And how did you get my number???
Unknown: Not the point.
Me: Disagree.
Unknown: Saw the scar. Heard about your black eye, but I desperately, irrationally hoped that maybe there was some other explanation.
Unknown: But he HIT you?
I stared at the screen. My hands were trembling so hard, I could barely type.
Me: Inmates are not allowed cell phones.
Unknown: He LAID hands on you?
Me: You could get in serious trouble for texting.
Unknown: He’s the one that gave you that scar, isn’t he?
My throat tightened.
Me: If a CO sees you right now, you’re going to get written up.
Unknown: Which means he fucking PUNCHED you. In the face.
Me: They’re looking for any excuse. Stop texting and put the phone away.
Unknown: He’s the one that doctor reminded you of.
Jesus. He remembered that? The way I’d frozen in the hallway when that visiting doctor walked by?
Unknown: What NOTE are you talking about?
My stomach dropped.
Me: For the last time, stop texting.
Unknown: I just got confirmation that a man laid hands on you. Repeatedly. If you think I’m going to let that go, you don’t know me at all.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
This was bad. This was very, very bad. I could picture Knox in his cell right now, those gorgeous eyes going cold the way they did when he was truly angry. A little spark lighting the end of a dynamite fuse.
The smart thing to do would be to stop responding. Disengage. Let him cool off overnight.
But while I didn’t know Knox well, I knew enough. He wouldn’t cool off. He’d stew in that cell until morning, replaying every word I’d said, and by the time I saw him in the infirmary, he might have done something stupid. Picked a fight. Thrown a punch. Gotten himself into trouble.
I needed to talk him down.
And that was the thing that made me pause. The realization that I knew he would be stewing. That I’d known, before I even consciously thought about it, that he would care. That my pain would become his pain simply because he’d decided I was worth protecting.
Me: You can rest assured that I’m safe. Silas is far, far away.
A lie.
Unknown: What’s his last name?
Me: Why?
Unknown: Answer the question.
Me: Even if you wanted revenge, you’re in prison. There’s nothing you could do about it.
Honestly, that was the only thing keeping me from a full-blown panic attack. Knox couldn’t exactly hop in a car and hunt Silas down. He was locked behind bars.
Unknown: Call it morbid curiosity.
Me: I’m not giving you his name. Period. And with all due respect, I never intended to tell you any of this. It’s personal. Private. I said those things because I thought I was talking to someone else.
Unknown: The abusive asshole who left marks on your body.
I took a breath. Then typed the hardest part.
Me: This is none of your business, Knox.
The three dots appeared.
I waited, my heart pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Whatever he said next would determine everything. Whether I’d be able to look him in the eye again. Whether this fragile, inexplicable thing between us would survive me accidentally dumping my trauma at his feet.
The message came through.
And the air left my lungs.
Unknown: Everything about you is my business now.