Chapter 48
Harmony
Warmth should have felt like relief. Instead, when I stepped into the Thorne house, it pressed against my skin like a weight I didn’t know how to carry.
The storm raged outside, wind slapping the windows, but inside everything was still, quiet that was so complete it made my pulse sound too loud.
Eric helped me out of my coat with fingers gentle and careful movements that made something in my chest twist.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I wasn’t fine at all, but saying I was fine seemed to be my default. My hands shook. My breath stuttered. My mind kept replaying the large man he fought and how close that man had been. How his every movement was deliberate and planned. There was also something familiar that I couldn’t place.
I sank onto the edge of the couch. My body felt like someone else’s; my bones were heavy, my thoughts fuzzy. Pierre stoked the fire, never straying too far from where I sat, his worry hovering like a second fireplace. Becket paced near the window, phone in hand.
“We’ll send a team out at first light,” he said. “Tracks will be rough in this snow, but we’ll see what we can get.”
Pierre nodded. “He wanted her alive. That changes everything.”
My stomach hollowed.
I swallowed hard. “Please… don’t talk like I’m not here.”
Both men quieted immediately. Eric sat beside me, close enough that his thigh brushed mine. “You should rest,” he said softly. “You’ve been through hell tonight.”
Rest. The word felt foreign. If I closed my eyes, I’d see the cabin door creak open. If I slowed my breath, I’d hear the snow shift under someone else’s weight. If I let myself feel. . .
I stood abruptly. “I’m going to wash up.”
Eric’s hand caught mine before I could pull away completely.
“Don’t disappear on me,” he whispered.
The words nearly undid me. I nodded and slipped down the hallway to the bathroom.
Steam from the shower fogged the mirror, blurring my reflection until I barely recognized the woman staring back.
The cuts on my hands from the broken relay panel stung.
The bruises on my knees were darkening. The shadows under my eyes were the hardest to face.
My legs gave out and I slid to the floor, back against the cabinet, and pulled my knees to my chest. Everything inside me cracked open at once.
The fear I’d held down for hours surged upward like a hot, suffocating wave.
My breath hitched. Tears spilled down my cheeks, quiet and relentless. I pressed my forehead to my knees.
“I don’t want to run anymore,” I whispered to the empty room.
A knock sounded; it was soft, tentative.
“Harmony?” Eric’s voice, low enough to coax rather than startle. “Can I… come in?”
I scrubbed my face quickly, though the tears kept falling. “I’m fine,” I tried to call back but my voice broke on the last word.
The doorknob turned slowly. Eric stepped inside and sank to the floor across from me, with knees bent, brows drawn in worry so deep it felt like a hand around my ribs.
“You don’t have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Not with me.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to steady myself, but the moment he reached out and tucked a strand of damp hair behind my ear, the dam inside me burst again.
“I thought he was going to hurt you,” I whispered. “If something happened to you because of my past. . .”
“Hey,” he murmured, leaning in, his forehead brushing mine. “I’m here. I’m okay. And none of this is your fault.”
Eric cupped my cheek, thumb sweeping under my eye. “Whatever’s coming we face it. Together.”
The word together wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t know how to accept.
Not fully. Not yet. But part of me leaned into it.
Part of me needed it. He pulled me gently into his arms, and I let myself fold into him, breathing in his steadiness, his warmth, his absolute certainty when I had none left.
After a long while, his voice rumbled softly against my hair. “Sunshine… when he went for you tonight, it didn’t feel random. Becket thinks he was trained.”
I stiffened slightly. Eric didn’t miss it.
“You know something,” he whispered.
“I…” My throat tightened. “Six months ago, when everything happened in Montreal… I don’t think Marcel was the only one watching me.”
Eric leaned back just enough to see my face. “Then who?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But it felt like someone who knew how I moved. Someone who knew what would scare me.”
I didn’t say Someone who knew me before I destroyed my father’s empire. Someone whose betrayal would cut deeper than a stranger’s hand ever could. But the thought coiled inside me anyway.
Eric brushed a thumb along my jaw. “We’ll figure it out. Get into the shower. The warm water will relax you.”
Steam curled thickly through the bathroom, fogging the mirror until everything blurred.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit my skin in heavy, punishing waves.
At first it hurt because it felt needle-sharp after the cold, but then my body warmed and softened as it melted away the ache in my muscles.
My breath shook. My hands shook. The water wasn’t enough to steady either.
Without a word, he grabbed a towel from the rack and stepped forward. “Let me help, okay? Just… just let me make this easier.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
He opened the shower door, rolling up his sleeves, and gently took my hand. His touch was warm, grounding. He guided my scraped knuckles under the stream, washing away the dirt and bits of bark stuck in the cuts.
His voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be strong right now.”
The words cracked something open. My chest tightened, eyes stinging as the fear I’d kept locked inside all night surged upward.
“I thought he was going to take me,” I whispered, water mixing with tears on my cheeks.
“Hey.” Eric cupped the side of my face, thumb brushing away a tear. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, the shower mist curling around us like a cocoon. Eric didn’t pull me closer or push for more, he just stood there, letting me lean on him, letting me breathe.
“Finish washing up,” he murmured. “I’ll stay right here until you’re ready.”
For the first time since the ridge, I felt myself breathe all the way in.
I finished quickly, exhaustion pulling at my limbs. When I stepped out, Eric wrapped me in a towel, slow and careful, like I was something precious rather than something broken.
He brushed damp strands of hair from my cheek. “Let’s get you warm.”
We stepped into the hallway and Eric led me to his room, where I had some clothes.
I slipped on a pair of flannel pants, and Eric gave me one of his sweatshirts that fit me like a big warm blanket and smelled of him, which was soothing.
He then picked up a brush and began brushing my hair.
The last time someone took care of me was when Mom was still alive.
The feeling broke something open inside me.
This thing with Eric was real and thriving.
As much as I tried to not have him involved, it was impossible because he is a part of my marrow. He always has been.
“Let’s head downstairs and I’ll make you some tea,” Eric said. “I think I saw some lemon tarts on the kitchen counter. Angela must have dropped off the leftovers.”
“How do you always know exactly what I need?” I asked him.
The warmth in his dark eyes were enough to melt my insides. “I always have you, Sunshine. Come on. You need sleep.”
I nodded, but as I glanced back to the dark windows, toward the storm still raging outside, the truth pressed cold and certain against my spine—tonight wasn’t an ending. It was only the beginning. And whoever had been on that ridge wasn’t done with me yet.