Page 4

JASPER

M y fist collided with his jaw catching him off guard. He turned to face me with wide eyes stumbling forward. He tried to fight back but I had the element of surprise on my side. Even if he had seen me coming, he didn’t have a chance against someone with my skill set and training.

I threw a few more punches at his, face hearing the crunch of bone with each blow. It had been too long since I had to fight like that, and I couldn’t deny the pleasure I felt behind it.

“If I were you, I’d be grateful you can limp away from here tonight. Don’t let me catch here again because if I see you ever again, I can promise the next time you won’t be so lucky.” I spit out standing over his battered, bloody body. His face was almost unrecognizable. He whimpered something that sounded like an apology, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it.

I turned on my heels and high-tailed it to the parking lot, searching for the mystery woman, I knew only as Harper.

I searched every corner, but she was nowhere in sight. It seemed impossible for her to have left so quickly, especially with the line of cars waiting to exit.

I suppose fear might render it feasible.

I walked up the aisle of idling cars peering into the window of each one looking for her. I had no idea what to say to her if I found her, but I needed to know she wasn’t hurt.

After several minutes and numerous disapproving glances from the occupants of the vehicles I had been checking, I was left with no option but to give up on my search.

She must have taken a cab .

I sprinted back to the building’s main entrance, ignoring the curious stares fixed on me, hoping to ask the doorman if he had seen her or maybe hailed a cab for her. That’s when I spotted her bag abandoned on the sidewalk. It must have fallen during the scuffle.

I identified it as hers by the small angel pinned to the strap. The angel pendant was misshapen and unattractive, with an emerald embedded in one of its wings. It was old and discolored. I wondered about its significance.

I reached into the purse retrieving what looked like a pocketbook hoping to find an ID or something that at least had a last name on it.

5’2

170 lbs.

green eyes

brown hair

organ donor.

Of course, she is.

The address was listed as a P.O. Box that I knew was assigned to students at the local college.

I reached into the breast pocket of my jacket retrieving my cell. There’s only one person who could help me find her.

“Max, I need you to get all the info you can on a young lady named Harper L. Williams.”