Twenty-one
TWENTY-ONE
Reagan
Emotional turmoil.
That was the best way to describe the state I was in.
It had been a week and a half since I’d learned the truth. A week and a half since I last saw Hart.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about him from the moment he walked out my front door. I couldn’t seem to forget the way he caged me in against the wall and said those three words I’d longed to hear from anyone my entire life. I could feel how much he meant them, too.
And in all the hopes and dreams I’d had for my future, all the things I wanted to experience, hearing someone say those words to me, and actually mean them, had been at the top.
So, it was no surprise, that whole scene had become a source of contention and turmoil for me. Because I’d imagined if I’d ever been lucky enough to experience something so wonderful, specifically in a romantic relationship, what would—or should—have followed those words was nothing like what I’d experienced.
It pained me not to say those three words back to Hart, but I’d been so conflicted and confused at first. Then, I’d been too horrified.
Stabbed.
He’d been stabbed avenging what had been done to me.
Thinking back on all that I’d said to Hart, all the negative thoughts I’d had about him over the last two months, I wasn’t sure I deserved the love he seemed keen to give.
For the last ten days, I’d been trying to figure out what to do. I had about thirty minutes of trying to forget that Hart had shown up at all. But when that quickly became an impossible task, it was followed by hours of recounting everything he’d shared with me about what happened from the moment he learned I’d been kidnapped.
Then I spent hours upon hours trying to just focus on work, put it all behind me, and move on with things I needed to do. Sadly, I was unable to think straight as my thoughts drifted back to the better times, to the moments Hart and I had together before I’d been kidnapped. Those memories ravaged my brain, day and night. I even went back and read the journal entries I’d made over the course of that year.
In the end, no matter what I did, none of it felt like the right thing. I was no better off today than I had been the day he’d shown up at my place or the days prior to his arrival. I certainly wasn’t anywhere close to feeling as great as I had when I’d made all those journal entries, particularly the ones that had mentioned how much he’d changed my life and how badly I had wished to tell him the truth about how I felt about him.
I needed some clarity.
And for the first time in a long time, I finally had a free weekend. It was Saturday morning, just over an hour before what I suspected would be the lunch rush at Grant’s Deli. I hadn’t visited Mallory’s place since before the kidnapping. In fact, I hadn’t been keen to reach out to her much since she and Nixon had come to my assistance after I escaped.
It was time I paid her a visit.
So, I hopped in my car and took off to the deli. The moment the door opened, and I walked in, her eyes met mine and rounded. Although I couldn’t see exactly what she’d been doing behind the counter, I heard something clatter before Mallory rushed out to me.
She threw her arms over my shoulders and hugged me. “Oh, Reagan, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so worried about you.”
I hugged her back, though I found it strange to hear her say words that indicated she cared so much. “I’m okay.”
Loosening her hold on me, she took a step back and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Are you?”
I shook my head. “Actually, no, I’m not. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her hands dropped from my body and hung limply at her sides. Without me needing to spell it out, she knew precisely what I was asking her about. “He wanted to be the one to do it.”
I pressed my lips together to control my emotions. “I spent two months hating him. Two months hating the man who made it possible for me to get out of there, and I did that while he was in a hospital recovering from being stabbed. He didn’t deserve that.”
“I agree. And I swear, Reagan, if I was in your shoes, I’d be just as angry about not knowing,” Mallory insisted. “But Hart was adamant. He did not want you to learn the truth from anyone but him. He thought you deserved that much, and we chose to respect his wishes.”
A cold feeling washed over me. There had been a part of me that believed there was a level of trust and respect between Mallory and me. Had I been disillusioned? Or was there something else at play here?
Technically, if Nixon worked with Hart, then Mallory knew Hart long before she knew me. Her loyalty was with him. Or her husband, at least. There was no reasonable justification for me to think she would have done anything to go against what either of them wanted in this scenario.
“Do you know what it’s been like for me over these last two months? I’ve been nothing but terrified that someone is going to come looking for me and take me back there. If I had known what happened, it might have made things easier. Maybe I wouldn’t be in therapy right now, trying to sort through how I wound up in this position and whether I’d ever be able to trust anyone ever again.”
“I know. Years ago, I was kidnapped, and I was missing for significantly less time than you. And it certainly wasn’t the same situation as to why I was kidnapped, but I still get the terror you must have felt.”
The news took me by surprise, and as much as I wanted to ask her about it, I pressed on. “If that’s the case, don’t you think it was important for me to know the truth, to have some semblance of reassurance over these last two months?”
“I do, which is why I tried to get in touch with you. Obviously, I didn’t have your number. And in the handful of instances that I stopped by your place in the beginning, you were never home.”
I tipped my head to the side. Maybe she really did care. “Oh. I’m sorry. I haven’t been staying at my place. I wound up moving, and I just put my place on the market about a week and a half ago.”
Mallory nodded her understanding. “Yeah, after my second stop at your place, I mentioned something to Nixon, and he told me you hadn’t been staying at home.”
My brows knit together. “How did he know that?”
“Oh, crap,” she murmured before biting her lip.
“What?”
Her shoulders fell in defeat. “I guess that’s the other part of it. While I know how terrifying things must have been for you, I knew you weren’t in any trouble and would be safe. Because Hart made it so. With the specific instructions that he had for the guys at Harper Security Ops, there wasn’t a chance anyone with ill intentions would get close to you like that again.”
I shot her a questioning look. “What instructions?”
“You have to understand how worried he was about you,” she reasoned.
“What instructions, Mallory?”
She hesitated for a beat, visibly wrestling with whether to be honest with me. “Hart made it clear that he didn’t want you left vulnerable until he could make sure that things had been squared away with the men involved in what happened to you and those women and that he could assure you himself that you were safe again. So, the night Nixon and I dropped you off at your place, it started. It was mostly the men on the bodyguard team who did it, but I guess a few of the other guys stepped up when things went sideways for Hart. Ever since we dropped you off at home that night, someone from the Harper Security Ops team has been standing vigil wherever you’ve been just to keep you safe until Hart was able to come and see you.”
My mouth went dry as my fingertips shot up to cover my lips. “What?”
She couldn’t miss the horror in my tone and offered a defense. “He wasn’t willing to risk anything.”
I tried to process the bombshell she’d just dropped on me. “I’ve been followed for months?”
The silence stretched between us, and I could see the remorse in her gaze. “Never to invade your privacy, Reagan. It was only ever to give Hart the peace of mind until he was able to be there for you.”
I dropped my gaze to the ground and nodded. “Right. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came here.”
Mallory reached for my hand, covering it with both of hers. “I’m glad you did. I’m sorry, too. I begged them, both Nixon and Hart, to let me tell you. I guess I could have gone against what they wanted, but Hart was dead set on being the one to tell you. As much as I disagreed, it was technically his to share with you.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have put you in this position this morning. It’s not like you owe me anything.”
Her hands squeezed mine. “It’s not about owing anyone. But Reagan, I’m happy to be a friend to you. I want that. And if it’s not too much for me to put that into play right now, I’d like to lend a listening ear.”
I lifted my free hand to the side and pointed toward the counter. “You’re working.”
“And I probably still have a good thirty minutes before things get busy here,” she reasoned. “Come on. Let’s go sit down.”
She tugged on my arm and led me to one of the handful of tables she had inside the deli. After we sat down, the two of us sat in an uncomfortable, tense silence.
Mallory was the one to break it. “How did it go?”
“How did what go?”
“You’re here. You haven’t been here since before you were… before everything happened,” she started. “And I know that Hart is out of the hospital and doing better. So, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s visited you. It’s clear to me that you’re struggling. What happened?”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. I blinked rapidly to stave them off. “I don’t know, Mallory. I feel so much about it all. About what he did, about how it was in there, and about the things I said to and about him. I feel so much guilt at the same time I’m so conflicted. I keep replaying everything. The horrible stuff that happened in this situation, as well as the wonderful memories I have with him in the year leading up to my kidnapping.”
“Did Hart tell you that he’s upset with you for how you reacted to all of it?”
I huffed sarcastically. “No. Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was completely understanding.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Dragging my fingers through the same lock of hair draped over the front of my shoulder, I considered how to answer that question. “I don’t know what to do.”
She sent me an inquisitive look. “What do you mean?”
“Hart came to my place ten days ago and told me everything. He told me the truth about what happened, and he told me he loved me.” A hint of a smile appeared on her face. “I never said it back.”
“Well, do you love him?”
I sighed, tearing my attention away from her face to stare out the window. “If you had asked me that question before I was kidnapped, I would have been terrified to admit that was the case.”
“And now you suddenly don’t?”
Shrugging, I returned my focus to her. “I think it’s more complicated than that. So much has happened.”
“It’s love, Reagan. What happened is awful. It truly is, and I’m not saying that he made all the right choices. There’s likely a lot to work through, but none of that should change what made you fall in love with him from the start. I know you feel something for him still, because you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
“How can I go back to him now, after I all but kicked him out when he confessed his feelings for me?”
Mallory’s mouth curved into a smile. “I think he’ll understand. He made it so you didn’t know the truth for two months. It’s been ten days since you didn’t say what’s truly in your heart. You’ve both made mistakes.”
I let out a sigh. “I should get going.”
“Think about it,” she urged me. “But I don’t think you should waste too much additional time. You both deserve the opportunity to fix it and do it right this time.”
Mallory and I stood at the same time, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around me again.
“I meant it when I said you could call me if you needed anything. That still stands, Reagan.”
I squeezed her back appreciatively. “Thanks, Mallory.”
After saying goodbye to one another, Mallory got back to work while I walked out to my car. I had the entire rest of the weekend free, so at least I’d be able to take the time to consider everything Mallory had said and decide what to do.
But before I even made it to my car, something caught my eye. More specifically, it was someone who grabbed my attention.
Hart.
Walking, his arm linked with another woman, he led her to his truck. My body ground to a halt as my heart stopped at the sight of him with his grandmother. Without having met her, I knew it was her. And the memory of him telling me how he took her to get her hair done every other Saturday filtered through my thoughts.
I winced as I recalled how I’d asked him if she was even real when he showed up and took me from that cell.
Whether it was by luck, or some innate instinct borne of his skills as a member of the kidnap and ransom team at Harper Security Ops, I didn’t know. But it was just as he approached his truck and opened the passenger’s side door that his eyes shot in my direction and locked on me.
We weren’t close enough to speak to one another without shouting, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t see the longing in his gaze. I wondered if he could sense the same in my return stare.
His grandmother must have said something to him, because he looked away and focused his attention on her. After addressing whatever concern she had, he closed her door and looked back at me.
One, two, three beats passed before he dipped his chin, giving me a half-hearted smile, and walked around to the other side of the truck to climb in. I stayed put, unmoving, until he started it up and drove off.
Then I ran back inside the deli, startling Mallory.
“Reagan. You’re back.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
The concern that had been littering her features quickly turned to confusion before excitement. “Let me call Nixon to find out the house number. I’ve been there before, but I didn’t pay attention to those details.”
“Can you be discreet? I think I’d like to try to surprise him.”
Mallory broke out into a full-fledged grin. “You’ve got it.”
Not quite five minutes later, I was on my way to Hart’s place. While I was aware that I could be waiting a while—he had mentioned how he usually ate lunch with his gram—I didn’t care.
I wanted to be there, waiting for him, whenever he returned. And as I continued to sit there in my car, I considered all the possibilities for how he might respond. I could only hope he’d welcome me better than I had him when he’d arrived at my place ten days ago.
Eventually, the fluttery feeling of anticipation in my stomach got the better of me, and I got out of my car to walk around and calm my nerves. The sunshine and summer heat did little to help ease my trembling hands.
I was in the middle of pacing, my head down, when I heard it.
My feet stopped moving, and my head snapped in the direction of the familiar sound. Hart pulled his truck to a stop and stared out the windshield at me for several long moments after he’d already turned off the engine.
My heart was pounding. What if he wanted me to leave?
After what felt like an eternity, Hart exited the truck, shut the door, and strode toward me.
Without thinking twice about it, I blurted, “I’ve been feeling a bit lonely lately.”
I wondered if he remembered those being the exact words that he’d said to me outside my place the first time he came over. I thought that might be the case when he smiled hesitantly at me.
God, what had I done?
Needing to push to fix this, I confessed, “I fell in love with you, too. I think that’s why it’s been so hard to?—”
I didn’t get another word out before he wrapped one arm around my body and lifted me clean off the ground. The hand on his opposite arm drove into my hair and tilted my head back just as his lips came crashing down on mine.
Warmth and desire and love and need flooded me all at once. Feeling his lips against mine for the first time in so long did things to me I never imagined possible. I wanted to hold him and cuddle with him. I wanted to laugh with him and talk with him. I wanted to beg for his forgiveness and assure him I held no grudges.
But for now, after all this time apart, I just wanted to enjoy this kiss.
When we both let out a moan, Hart tugged gently on my hair and separated his mouth from mine. His eyes were wet as they roamed over every inch of my face. “Would you like to come inside?”
For the first time in months, I smiled.
Hart smiled back at me.
Then, with minimal effort, he carried me inside.