Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
HARPER
G uilt swells as I get off the phone with Cillian. He’s just called me to let me know he’s been given permission to take me to visit my father tomorrow. I’ve decided not to tell the guys. They’d just try to stop me, and I refuse to not see this through. Luckily Emerson is spending the weekend up in Connecticut with Declan and his grandparents after their game.
That means it’s just Cy and I this weekend. Something I’m completely okay with, but at the same time, it does nothing to assuage my guilt to just be misleading one of the guys. Especially when it’s the one guy who has been nothing but open and honest with me from the start.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Cy asks.
“Can we go out to see Annie?” I’m not scheduled to work this weekend, so I could just take her out and ride her around the arena for a bit. She always helps me calm down and recenter, which I definitely need.
“Of course.”
“Okay, let me go change. I’ll be right back.”
I bound up the stairs, immediately buoyed by the idea of riding. I grab a pair of black riding pants and a long sleeve turtleneck top. My hair can’t go up yet since I’ll have one of the motorcycle helmets on. By the time I emerge from my closet fully dressed, Cy is sitting on my bed waiting for me.
“I’d knock but…” he says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes, still irritated with Declan over his stunt with the door. “You could put it back on, you know?”
“No. I don’t think I can.” He smiles smugly. “I wouldn’t want to go against the wishes of the homeowner.”
An inelegant snort escapes me. “As if you don’t piss him off at least twice a day.”
“He’s a prickly bear, it’s easy to do.” He stands up and offers his hand.
The boyish grin he gives me when I take his makes my stomach flip pleasantly. In a world where everything feels so heavy and dark, I’m so glad I have him to bring levity and light. I just hope I bring him the same level of comfort. I know there’s more to him than he shows, shadows that lurk in the depths of his dark brown eyes.
He locks up behind us as we leave the house, engaging the new alarms. I wait for him beside his Ducati as I put my helmet on. He swats my butt as he steps past me to climb on his bike, kicking the kickstand back. I climb on behind him and wrap my arms tightly around his torso.
Sometimes I wish I could ride with him without a helmet, just so I could rest my face against his back and have that closeness between us. All the guys would flip if I tried it though, even Cyrus. I don’t want to upset them anymore than I already know I will tomorrow.
The ride to the barn goes by quickly. I can barely restrain myself from running to Annie’s stall. I was worried she’d still be out in one of the pastures, but as soon as she hears my voice, she’s poking her head through the stall gate with her ears pointed forward. She gives me a happy knicker of greeting as I reach in and give her a few pets and run my fingers through her forelock. Her ears turn back as Cyrus approaches us from behind.
“Easy girl,” he says quietly. “I brought you something special.”
My eyes widen as he pulls a carrot from his pocket. He snaps it in half and then breaks those two pieces into two more. Annie looks at him with a healthy dose of skepticism, but she can’t resist the siren song of fresh carrots. I watch as he offers the treat to her in a flat, open palm and she accepts. The resulting crunches are so satisfying to listen to. But it’s the fact that she lets him run a hand over the star on her forehead that surprises me the most.
So far she’s taken treats from him but only mildly accepts his presence near me. This is a big step, and as his lips curl into a smile, my eyes sting. I turn away to go get the riding gear, silently berating myself for being so soft all the time. Seeing one of my boyfriends pet my man-hating horse shouldn’t make me tear up.
I feel two strong arms wrap around me while I continue to silently berate myself. “There’s nothing wrong with being sentimental and soft,” Cy whispers in my ear.
“How did you know that’s what I was doing?”
“Just a feeling. You and I are so similar.”
“No, we’re not. You’re strong and sure of yourself. I feel like a baby deer that’s just been born. Unsteady and unsure of the world around me.”
“We’re just at different places on the journey. But we have the same destination.” He kisses my cheek and lets me go. “Go ride your man-hating horse and lose yourself for a couple hours. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
The drive to the prison where my father is being held somehow manages to be the longest and shortest trip. My stomach is in knots as I sit beside Cillian as the gates slowly open for us to park. I check my phone again for any messages from Cy about leaving this morning. This time I left a detailed note and told him I’d be with Cillian and that I’m safe.
The thing is, though, I don’t feel safe. I know Cillian won’t let anything happen to me, but I know my father. He can strike without lifting a hand. One well-honed insult is deadlier than any physical force he could summon.
“Are you sure about this?” Cillian asks as he turns off the car. “We can turn around at any point and leave.”
“I’m sure.” My voice sounds much steadier than I feel. “I need to do this.”
That much is true. I owe myself this confrontation with him. He needs to be held accountable for more than just crimes against the government and strangers. I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me that my suspicions are correct. That he auctioned me off to some pervert like I was nothing more than an expensive piece of jewelry.
“Alright.” Cillian looks out the windshield for a beat and then back at me. The look in his eyes, a shade lighter than his son’s, is fierce. “But remember that you are in charge. If you want to leave, we get up and go with no questions asked.”
“Got it.” I force my lips to lift in a half smile, crossing my fingers that it’s enough to appease him.
The next few minutes are spent emptying our pockets and checking in at the visitors’ desk. Then we’re led down a hall with greenish gray painted cinder block walls to a room with a metal door and a guard standing outside. I watch with curiosity as Cillian slips him a few folded hundred-dollar bills and they exchange a wordless nod.
What the heck is that about?
I don’t have too much time to wonder though, because seated inside the room with his ankles shackled to his chair is my father. His hair has more gray than I remember, but he’s filled out over the months he’s been incarcerated. There’s probably not much to do, aside from read and work out, so I guess it makes sense. His icy blue eyes stare right through me as Cillian leads me to the table and pulls out a chair for me.
Even though a knot has formed in the back of my throat, I hold his gaze as defiantly as I can. I refuse to cower to him. He’ll never see me afraid again.
“Well, well,” he finally opens his mouth to speak. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“We have a few questions about Annabelle and Harper.”
Dad’s lips lift in a slow smirk. I just know he’s going to ignore any question we ask. It’s his favorite play, to act innocent and unknowing. “Can I get a hug first?” He looks at me, his wrists bound by handcuffs and his hands resting on the table.
“No,” Cillian answers.
“Do you know who is stalking me?” I ask as I sit down. I just want to get this over with, and I know he’ll try toying with us for as long as he can.
Cillian sits down beside me, casually tossing his arm over the back of my chair. I appreciate the way it makes me feel protected. The way my father’s eyes narrow for just a brief moment at the ease of our relationship is gleefully satisfying.
Anytime he tossed his arm around my shoulders, I’d flinch. Then he’d berate me as soon as we were in private. But I feel completely safe with Cillian, and it shows.
“I’d rather talk about how my filthy daughter decided to let three men run a train on her while bent over an altar.”
“That was AI.” Cillian taps his fingers on the table like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Bullshit. I could see the scars on her sides.” The pleasant preacher mask he always dons drops and out comes the monster I know. “It was real. You lost the right to any answers when you spread your legs.”
The familiar wash of shame threatens to swallow me whole. I dig deep to the small garden of confidence being planted and tended by the men in my life and let it strengthen me as I hold his cold, angry stare. I want answers. I deserve answers.
Cillian goes still beside me. I can feel the anger pulsing out from him in waves, but when I look at him out of the corner of my eye, he doesn’t look any different. It’s probably what makes him such an excellent attorney.
“Who. Is. Stalking. Me?” I repeat again. “I know you know. His focus on purity can only be from you.”
“I’d tell you if you hadn’t turned out to be a whore. If I’d known you’d be just like your mother, I would have loaned you out for favors like her long ago.”
The blood drains from my face as Cillian rockets from his chair, his fist connecting with my father’s face. I watch in a trance as my father’s face snaps to the side, blood pouring from his nose. The guard is standing outside the door, completely unbothered by the violence happening inside this room.
Cillian grabs my father by the hair and holds his face, so he’s forced to look at me. “Take a good, long look at her. It’s the last time you’ll ever see her. She’s my daughter now, Annabelle is my wife. Anything they want, they get.”
Dad scowls and tries to tear free from his grip, but Cillian just tightens his hold.
“I’m going to take such good care of them that they’ll forget you ever existed. You sad, pathetic excuse for a husband and father.” He slams my father’s head down onto the metal table he’s cuffed to. “If Harper wants to fall in love with a hundred men, I’ll support her because fuck knows she deserves it after eighteen years of your abuse.”
He leans down and whispers something that I can’t hear into my father’s ear that makes him violently agitated, struggling against the hold that Cillian has on him. Cillian straightens wearing an identical smirk to Declan’s and buttons his suit jacket.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he helps me up and wraps his arm around my shoulder, tucking me protectively against his side.
We move back through the hall and out into the parking lot. I stay mostly in a trance as I put one foot in front of the other, guided by the warmth of my stepfather. He turns me, so he can look in my eyes before he unlocks the car.
“Are you okay?”
I see nothing but concern in his eyes before tears begin to blur everything. I try to blink them away, but as they fall, more just keep coming. Is this what paternal love is supposed to feel like? He wraps me in a tight embrace as tears continue to silently roll down my cheeks. I don’t know how to navigate this feeling of absolute safety. Like I could tell him anything and he’d figure out a way to help me through it.
Gratitude rushes through me as I realize this is what my mom has now. I can see it in how healthy she looks and the way color has come back into her face. She’s coming back to life with the safety this man provides.
“Thank you.” I sniffle as I wrap my arms around him and return his embrace.
“You okay?”
“Not really, but I think I will be.”
He lets go of me and crouches down so we’re eye to eye. “You will be.”