Page 15

She turns and storms away, her heels clicking against the tiles as the door slams behind her. The sound echoes in my chest, and her leaving feels heavier than I thought it would.
Standing alone in the empty restroom, I let out a frustrated sigh. I didn’t want to catch her off guard, but what choice did I have? Every word I said was true, every threat a promise. Tonight, I’m coming for her. She might hate me, she might fight me, but at least she’ll be safe. I don’t trust Micah Rhodes.
When I finally leave, I cross the street to a little café and sit at a table where I can see Harper and Micah clearly. I grab a black coffee and focus on them. Harper’s body language says it all—she’s tense, her shoulders are tight, and she looks away every time Micah gets too close. She seems sick, and I hope the weight of what I told her has finally hit her.
A week ago, I tried to warn her that Micah was trouble. She brushed me off like it was nothing. Classic Harper. Stubborn and proud.
I’m determined to dig up every dirty secret and twisted thing he’s done. I hired some dark-web data miners, but I haven’t heard back yet—hopefully, I will soon. I’m going to take him down personally. For Billie and for Harper.
He kisses her, and I roll my eyes when she gives him a fake smile. She’s so easy to read, or maybe I’ve just memorized her like a book.
The thought of her being stuck with Micah, even for another day, makes me fucking sick. But I know Harper too well—if I push too hard, she’ll just run further into his arms to prove a point.
This isn’t the first time she’s ignored my concerns. His charm and polished look blinded her. And I’ve watched them together on more than one occasion, noticing their weird dynamic. Nothing about the relationship has ever seemed normal. They’ve never spent more than two days together, and now he’s pushing for marriagethis week—in Rhode Island, of all places, where annulments don’t exist, only messy divorces.
I grit my teeth, simmering as I watch them. Part of me wants to let her live that painfulI told you somoment. Her stubbornness will be her downfall. Harper has always had to touch the stove to see if it’s hot instead of just taking everyone’s word for it. But I can’t let her suffer, no matter how much she drives me wild and infuriates me.
Micah points aggressively at her, and rage floods through me, nearly making me jump out of my seat. I tell myself to stay calm, silently promising that the second he lays a finger on her, I’ll unleash years of pent-up anger I’ve had for the faceless terror that hurt my cousin.
Harper should’ve seen through his fake, over-the-top charm. But she wants to believe in love so bad that she’ll overlook the shortcomings, the weird vibes and tension, and settle for less when she can do so much better. She deserves the absolute fucking best, and he ain’t it. Then again, I’m not sure anyone will ever be good enough for her.
I focus on Harper and Micah through the big glass window. Harper looks sick, her eyes going from confused to horrified, like she’s realizing who Micah Rhodes really is.
Frustration bubbles up in me—at Micah, at Harper’s stubbornness, and especially at how helpless I feel. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down.
I won’t let Harper be another regret. Not this time. Not ever again.
I take a sip of my coffee, and its darkness matches my mood perfectly.
Tonight, this ends.
Harper’s either leaving on her own or I’m dragging her out myself. I glance at her pretty face again, my heart aching under my anger. She looks lost and confused as she silently pieces it together.
I know she’s upset with me right now, but she’ll be grateful later. She’ll be alive to feel that anger because, right now, I’m not sure what Micah is capable of, but I have an idea.
No matter what it takes or how much she fights it, Harper Alexander is coming with me tonight.
4
HARPER
Ireturn to the table, cracking my neck to release the tension knotted there. I can’t afford to let Micah charm his way back into my head, not after what Brody revealed. I would’ve gone with him, but I knew there was no way I could, not with how Micah would make a scene.
Brody has never been a liar. In fact, his blunt honesty is something I’ve relied on since I was eighteen. He promised me then that he’d never skirt around the truth, even if it was harsh. The rare times Brody has spoken to me, I’ve learned to brace myself, knowing he’s about to deliver a reality check. And it’s probably one I’d rather avoid. His words aren’t always nice, but at least they’re honest. I prefer it.
My pulse pounds so hard that it feels like my heart might rip from my chest. Regret crashes into me, so overpowering that it nearly steals my breath. I steady myself, drawing a shaky inhale as I sit across from Micah. My mask slips into place—the familiar shield I’ve worn since I was eight years old, after losing my mom.
I lift my coffee cup, letting the warmth seep through the ceramic and into my trembling fingers. As I take a careful sip, my gaze lifts to meet Micah’s green eyes—eyes that, only days ago, filled me with excitement and hope. Now, a shadow of darkness lingers there, something that makes my stomach twist with dread.
Am I only noticing it now because Brody forced me to see it, or has this always been visible to everyone?
Billie must have sensed the evil, but couldn’t find the words to explain it. She tried to warn me away from him, and I ignored her. I ignored everyone. I’m so fucking stupid!
My throat tightens painfully as the entire evening replays vividly in my mind like a movie, forcing me to face the truth.
I walkinto the kitchen and find Asher on top of Micah, punching him over and over again. I freak out, not knowing what’s going on.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, seeing blood, watching Micah nearly lifeless as Asher does his worst. I push Asher off of him.