Epilogue #2
I hear him move around the various rooms upstairs before his soft footsteps come to a halt before the bathroom door.
“Jules?” he whispers. The doorknob rattles. “Are you in there?”
God. He can’t come in here. He can’t. He can’t see me like this.
I’m hyperventilating, my hands shaking again. I’m more afraid of facing Harley than I am Patrick. He’ll take one look at my face, and he’ll know the truth.
He’ll know I’ve been lying to him.
“I can hear you, Jules,” Harley says urgently. “Let me in.”
I don’t. I can’t.
There’s a loud sigh and then a few scratching motions. Before I have time to retreat to the tub, like that’ll do any good, the door opens.
There, in all his glory, is Harley Buckingham.
Like all the Buckinghams, he’s tall, but his build runs leaner than his brothers’. That’s not to say he isn’t muscled. He walks around shirtless too often for me not to know that. His curly hair is in its usual disarray.
But his dark eyes aren’t shining with joy. There’s no smile or pout on his full lips.
No, there’s nothing but shock. Shock and incandescent rage.
“Jules, baby,” he whispers, quickly stepping up to me. His big hand gently cradles my chin as he turns my head from side to side, examining my injuries. “What the fuck? What happened?”
“I fell.” The automatic lie falls from my lips with ease. “I’m fine.”
“You fell,” he repeats slowly, his eyes searching mine. “Where, exactly?”
“The stairs.”
He grabs my arm, managing to miss my bruises by accident. Then he slowly lifts the limb, and I realize it wasn’t accidental at all. “And the stairs left finger-shaped bruises around your wrist?”
My throat bobs. I don’t know what to say.
Murder flashes through Harley’s eyes. He’s so far from the man I care for that it terrifies me.
“Who did this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper urgently, snatching my hand from his grip. “But you need to go. Now.”
Harley doesn’t shift an inch. “No.”
Through the window, I hear Patrick’s voice. He’s cursing at someone. A neighbor, probably. They fall into a heated argument, buying me a few minutes, but not enough. “Please. Please, Harley. Go. If he finds you here, it’ll only be worse for me.”
My Harley is always a whirlwind. He rarely stops moving. But right now, he’s frozen, his expression fixed as he asks the question I desperately wanted to avoid. “Who is he, Jules?”
“My husband,” I choke out as what’s left of my heart shatters. “Patrick is my husband.”
Harley blinks once. Twice. Then he lifts a trembling finger. It brushes over the split in my lip. “Your husband did this to you? That’s why you went to The Firm?”
How does he know? There’s no time for that now. Patrick’s voice outside has fallen silent. He’ll be here soon. “There’s no time to explain. Please, you have to leave.”
Harley’s hand drops. His voice is cold. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“No!” My voice is far too loud, but I can’t let Harley do this. He turns to leave, but I’m right there, blocking him. I throw my arms wide, fighting back tears as I lift my chin defiantly. “If you’ve ever cared for me, leave him be.”
That’s the moment when I think I finally break Harley Buckingham’s heart.
He takes a step back like I’ve hit him. His eyes widen as he shakes his head. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.” I don’t move from my position in front of the door. Below us, I hear Patrick enter the house. “You have to go. If The Firm aren’t going to honor my request, I need to go down and meet him.”
Understanding dawns on Harley’s face. “That’s why you need the money. You’re going to run.”
“Yes,” I whisper. Thankfully, Patrick hasn’t come upstairs. I hear the TV flick on and the sofa creak under his weight. “It’s the only option I have left.”
“You’re going to leave,” Harley says, his eyes covered in a sheen. “You were going to leave me. Were you even going to say goodbye?”
I can’t look at him. It’s too painful. My gaze falls to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
Harley takes several deep breaths. I wait for him to push past me. He knows the truth now. That I’m married. That I’ve been lying. That I’ve been existing on the Buckinghams’ kindness, as a part of their family, and I was going to run. Disappear on them without telling a soul.
He knows who I truly am now. A coward. A user. A pathetic, weak excuse of a man.
“Just go,” I say heavily. “I need you to go.”
Harley laughs. It’s quiet, but there. The sound has me snapping my head up.
“Sorry,” he wheezes, shaking his head. “But you thinking I’m leaving you here with him is the most batshit fucking insane thing I’ve heard tonight.”
I don’t have a chance to respond. Harley has me over his shoulder. I smack a hand over my mouth to muffle my shout as he steps silently out of the bathroom and heads for my bedroom window.
“Hold on tight, Cheffy,” he whispers, unclipping something from his belt. “I won’t drop you, I promise.”
Drop me? What the fuck is he doing?
Harley’s plan becomes clear as he throws open the window and fixes something to the windowsill. Then, with almost no effort, he climbs over the ledge with me still over his shoulder.
Shock keeps me silent as he rappels us down from my bedroom window. But as he walks me around to his car, I finally find my voice again. “What the fuck are you doing, Harley?”
He puts me into the front seat, his eyes grim as he fastens my seat belt. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m kidnapping you.”
I’m speechless. Completely speechless.
Harley slides behind the wheel of his car and starts the engine. The glare he sends my way is miles from how he usually looks at me.
I’ve truly ruined everything.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he bites out. “I might not know what’s going on with you, but I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know the truth about everything. If that means kidnapping you, then that’s what I’m doing.”
I don’t know what to say, but Harley doesn’t seem to need me to say anything. He simply turns the engine on and starts driving.
Leaving Patrick far behind us.
Along with the dreams of anything we might’ve become in a different world.
Thank you for reading Allegiant!
Harley and Jules will return in Piquant, coming 2027. Preorder information to follow soon.