Harlow #3
“We got eleven women out,” Wade said. Her knees weakened, but Wade held her up. “They are being checked out by the paramedics, and I’m sure that some of them will have to be sent to the hospital with Sarah.”
“Can I see her?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” he said. “Let the doctors take care of her for now.”
Harlow nodded quickly. “Okay.” She could accept that because Sarah was alive, and that was enough. For tonight, it had to be enough.
“What did they find to incriminate her father?” Princess asked.
Butcher's expression hardened. “Records, computers, manifests, and names.” His eyes moved toward the doorway where police had taken Richard.
“We found enough to bury Kane.” Harlow closed her eyes.
It was over—but not completely. There would be investigations, questions, trials, and the press to deal with.
God, the headlines were going to be gruesome, but the women were out of the nightmare that her father and Frank created.
Sarah was alive, and Frank couldn't hurt anyone again.
But the best part of it all was that Richard Kane was in handcuffs.
Harlow opened her eyes and saw Princess standing a few feet away. “You okay?”
Princess looked at the bruise forming on her arm where Martin had grabbed her. “I'm good.”
Harlow left Wade long enough to cross the room, and she hugged Princess. She stiffened. “Okay.”
Harlow squeezed harder. “You helped me.”
“Yeah,” Princess said. “But you did most of the heavy lifting.
“You stayed with me,” Harlow said.
“Of course I stayed,” Princess insisted. “Where else was I going to go?”
Harlow pulled back. “Thank you.”
Princess smiled. “You shot the asshole. I mostly provided moral support.”
Harlow laughed through her tears, and Wade came up behind them. “Is that my gun?”
Princess looked at the floor. “Maybe.”
Wade stared at her. “You gave Harlow my gun?”
“She needed it,” Princess insisted.
“You couldn't give her Butcher's?” he asked.
Butcher looked offended. “Why the fuck are my guns disposable, and yours aren’t?
” For one strange second, Harlow started laughing—really laughing.
All three of them stared at her, but she couldn't stop.
Maybe it was shock. Hell, it probably was, but after the last two days, laughing felt better than screaming.
Wade wrapped an arm around her waist. “You losing it on me?”
“Possibly,” she admitted.
“Good, it means you're still here with me.” Harlow looked up at him. She was still here. She ran from Frank and ran from her father. She ran from the wedding she never wanted. But tonight she didn’t run.
She stayed, and she fought, and when Frank came for her again, she survived.
It wasn’t because Wade saved her, and not because Butcher or Princess did either.
They helped and stood beside her, but in the moment that mattered, Harlow had saved herself.
She looked toward the open clubhouse door. Outside, police lights flashed across motorcycles and pavement as her father sat in the back of a police cruiser. Frank would never control another woman. And somewhere across town, Sarah was alive.
Wade's arm was wrapped around her and Harlow leaned into him. “What happens now?”
Wade looked down at her. “Now?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
He thought about it. “You’ll have to answer questions and give your statement.” She groaned. “Then you’ll probably have to answer more questions.”
“Wonderful,” she grumbled.
“Then I’m taking you to the hospital to get checked out,” he said.
“I'm fine,” she insisted.
“Your wrist isn't,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Bossy.”
“Yep,” he breathed.
“And after that?” she asked.
His expression softened. “After that, I take you home.” That was the part she was looking forward to most—home. He was going to take her back to his house and his bed. All she wanted was to be with him.
Harlow smiled. “You’re looking at me that way again,” she said.
Wade quickly looked around the room to make sure that they didn’t have an audience. “What way?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Like you're about to say something stupid,” she said.
His mouth twitched. “I was thinking something stupid,” he admitted.
“What were you thinking?” she asked.
Wade looked around the destroyed clubhouse—at the cops, at Frank, the broken glass, and then back at her. “You're never allowed to complain that my life is boring.”
Harlow laughed. “Your life isn’t boring, but I’m pretty sure I'm the one who brought on all this,” she said.
“Exactly,” he said.
She shook her head. “You're impossible.”
“And you're still a pain in my ass,” he said.
“Am I still a runaway bride?” she asked.
Wade's smile softened. “Not anymore.” Her chest tightened.
No, she wasn't that same woman she was when she stumbled into his bar just a few days ago.
Harlow Kane had spent most of her life running toward whatever future someone else selected for her.
Tonight she'd finally stopped. From now on, whatever came next would be hers.
Her choices, her life, her future, and if Wade happened to be standing in the middle of it, Harlow was starting to think she'd choose that too.