Page 29 of Fixation

HARPER

F or the first time since I moved into my brownstone, my bed feels huge. Empty.

Wrong.

I keep tossing and turning. Throwing the covers off me, pulling them up, hugging one pillow.

How long has it been since I crawled in here? Minutes? Hours?

Feels like days. It also feels like my own bed is trying to kick me out.

“What did I ever do to you?” I murmur to the pillow.

No answer.

I turn to the other side, away from the him .

I’m still not calm. An undercurrent of fear taints every breath I take. The memory of his dark eyes follows me around as I shower, eat, drink, and work on the new pieces of my collection.

Arousal has my core pulsing for him.

The relentless bastard has taken over my life. The ghost of him is always there.

The brush of his fingertips on my jaw. The thermometer he pushed past my lips and my ass. The restraints he put on me.

“Ugh.” I roll to my other side.

What if he never leaves me? What if he’s already carved himself into my flesh, tattooed himself somewhere deep I can’t even reach?

He’s everywhere. In my lungs. In my bones.

I should hate it.

And yet the pull remains. That reckless gravity that had me standing on the terrace with Darla earlier, searching for him like an idiot.

With a frustrated huff, I sit up on the edge of the bed.

My fingers fist the sheets. My toes tap out anxiety across the rug. My mouth twists.

What happened in his basement was wrong. And right. And devastatingly fucked-up.

He saved you. That was kind of him. When no one was there, you had Anderson. And he did end up letting you go.

“Fuck.” I hang my head low.

What does he want?

More importantly, what do I want?

I want out of this house.

Yes, that’s it. I want to run, get some fresh air. To forget about his dark eyes and his cock inside me. I have to.

The clock on my phone says it’s almost 1 a.m. If it could talk, it’d tell me to go back to bed.

What for?

What fucking for?

Tank top. T-shirt. Running shorts. Socks and sneakers.

I pull my hair up in a high ponytail, ready to go down the stairs, when my phone buzzes.

For a full minute, my heart stops. I move toward the bedside table where I left it.

Dread and something darker slow my steps.

What does my captor have in store for me now?

I’m not disappointed when I see it’s my brother calling instead of him. I would never.

“Beau.” I take my phone downstairs with me, open the door, and then lock it behind me.

“Sis.”

Too late, I realize that I forgot my earbuds. With a sigh, I press the phone closer to my ear. “What’s up?”

Though I’m jogging in the other direction, I let my eyes wander to Anderson’s house. The place I was held captive.

The lights are off there. No shadow lurks behind the windows on any floor.

There could be other predators out there this late at night in the city. It isn’t safe to go jogging by myself at this hour.

But the people passing me by seem harmless. A woman in gray running gear rounds the corner. A man who seems harmless enough walks down the stairs to his brownstone and onto the street, his beagle dog on a leash.

They’re okay. So am I.

“Hello? Beau?” My sneakers pound on the pavement. Air surges into my lungs. “What’s going on?”

“You know we support you, and—what’s that? Are you running?”

“Yeah, but I can talk.”

“Fuck, Harper.” I hear his concern over the other sounds around my block. The errant car. My beating heart. “You shouldn’t be outside by yourself this late.”

“I have you to protect me.” My chuckle is met with his groan.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh.” I cut to the right, to the familiar path I take when my workload is crazy and I don’t have much time to exercise. This area is quieter. Feels safe enough too. Then again, I thought my home was safe. “Is this another one of the why won’t you come home conversations?”

“Do I need to remind you that you were sick and couldn’t talk on the phone for days?” He groans, probably running his hand through his thick brown hair. “I was going crazy. I had a plane ticket ready and all.”

By the time I turn right, sweat trickles down my neck.

My cheeks heat. Leg muscles are burning.

This is my first jog since I came back from Anderson’s home.

Where I was sick.

Where I was used in depraved, sexual ways.

He kept me dazed, obedient. Drugged.

And look at me now.

Alive and better. My heart gallops whenever I think of this fucked-up man.

Then my eyebrows lower in concentration. My brother doesn’t work, so it means someone got him the ticket. Our parents.

“Mom and Dad actually said it was okay for you to step in like that?”

Strange. That doesn’t sound like them.

Throughout the years, they’ve been my biggest supporters. When I told them I wasn’t going to college, that I had other plans, they gave me their full, unconditional blessing.

“It wasn’t like that.” His concern morphs into sadness. I’m instantly plagued with guilt. “They adore you. They trust you. It was me. I asked them to come out there.”

“Nothing happened, I swear.” Beau doesn’t need to know the truth. I’ll figure it out. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“Okay, okay.” His sigh is a blow to the chest. My brother and I are close, and I hate lying to him. I hate that he worries. “At least promise you’ll visit before Thanksgiving.”

I’m less than a mile away from home now. I can run some more or head back inside.

What I can’t do is go looking for Anderson. I can’t ever go near a man like him ever again.

The more time I spend away from him, the faster this obsession will fade. It has to.

Home it is. Beau is right to worry. I do need to be careful, to prove to him and my parents that their trust is warranted.

I owe it to myself.

“I’ll try, I promise.”

A white Lexus pulls up into the parking garage at the end of the street, blocking the view of my home.

The windows are dark, but my soul knows who it is. The man I want. The man I should stay the hell away from.

My pulse pounds so loudly that it drowns out everything else.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

No—definitely oh, no. I have to get home. I have to hide.

“Great. We could go to the beach, catch a movie like we used to.”

“Count me in.” I fake a smile, trying to think of something positive to say that’d put my brother at ease. “Guess what? I’m working on my summer collection.”

Anderson’s car disappears.

I should hightail it to my house, lock myself in. I’ll be safe there, out of his reach.

“Holy shit, I’m so happy for you. After the last collection you called off, I was worried. That’s great news. Send me pictures when you’re home?”

“Tomorrow, when I have natural lighting. The photos always come out better that way.”

I’m closer, almost home.

“Awesome.”

My feet betray me, and I run slower.

I’m baiting a predator. God, I am so fucked.

My heart races. My throat is clogged.

“Hey, Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you.” I don’t know why this feels like goodbye. I don’t mean for it to.

I don’t mean to hang around for Anderson to catch me, either.

“Uh, love you too?” He pauses, then clears his throat. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“Absolutely.” My key is in my pocket. It’ll take less than a heartbeat to reach it once I’m at the door.

I walk slower still.

I’m losing my mind, and it’s all Anderson’s fault.

“Okay.” My brother suddenly sounds distracted. His phone must vibrate with messages from one of his many friends. “Talk soon, then.”

One last chance to ask for help. To tell him I’m in danger. That I was kidnapped.

Instead, right before I hang up, I say, “Talk soon.”

A familiar scent reaches my nose.

A woodsy scent laced with antiseptic and Anderson.

He’s close.

I thought I wanted him to catch me. I thought I could face him.

I was wrong. So wrong.

Fear shoots up my spine, locking my jaw.

As inconspicuously as possible, I unlock my phone, and dial 9-1-1.

I will not be kidnapped a second time. I won’t let him.

Won’t fucking?—

A hand around my mouth. An arm around my stomach.

The iron grip of the strongest man I’ve ever met hauls me off the ground.

My phone falls to the floor before I manage to hit the send button.