Page 7

SEVEN

KEIRA

Daisy - Ashnikko

I wake up in another new place, an occurrence I've gotten used to over the last week. It's like falling back into an old routine after living as a nomad for so many years when I was younger. The house is quiet, but I've been left alone. I'd know if Harkin was still in bed with me. His warmth always envelops me to the point of overheating.

The sticky soreness between my thighs brings dreamy memories of last night back to the forefront of my thoughts. I needed the release, and he knew. He always knows, reading me like a lit-up billboard sign. My eyes catch the time from the alarm clock on the nightstand. I've gotten so used to not carrying around a phone from being at the cabin that I don't even remember where it is now. The only time I need it is when Harkin and I are separated, and that's a rarity these days.

Cinder's ears perk at my rousing, and she jumps off the foot of the bed, pacing back and forth on my side.

"Okay, okay. I'm getting up."

Her tail swishes back and forth, almost knocking a glass of water onto the floor.

I find my suitcase unpacked and an outfit laid out on the dresser for me. Some women might find it controlling, especially since it's one of my regular workout sets, but it's one less thing for me to worry about. With everything going on, I'll happily take the assist.

Now dressed and with Cinder whining at the door, we head downstairs and find a very disheveled Stace nursing a cup of coffee. The sound of Cinder's paws against the hardwoods draws Stace's eyes from her phone.

"I didn't think you could still get wasted off a couple bottles of wine," I tease her, opening the back door to let Cinder out and then grabbing my own mug of coffee before joining her at the island.

She slides the creamer my way. Harkin must have had groceries delivered early this morning, and I send my silent thanks that I won't have to endure the bitterness of black coffee.

"Let's just say, it's been a dry few months while you were away—in multiple areas."

I spit the coffee back into my mug and swing in her direction. "Bullshit."

Her eyes tell me there's absolutely no bullshit in her statement.

"Girl, how? What about that guy from the club? You two were all hot when we left?"

She doesn't answer me, hiding behind the curtain of blonde locks flowing loose. Something's up with her. She hasn't been going out. She isn't drinking. My thoughts are cut off by Harkin and James coming in from the backyard, Cinder panting loudly, hot on their heels.

"You're finally up," Harkin states, coming over to me shirtless and dripping with his black ink glistening. He quickly kisses my head before going for the fridge, pulling out two waters and slinging one to James across the island.

I follow the water and take in James's scowling face. His eyes are locked on my best friend in all her hot mess glory. The death glare she throws his way, as if daring him to say a word, screams volumes. She’s is in for a rough morning in more ways than one.

"You worked out without me." I fake pout toward Harkin, drawing everyone's attention to me.

"You were sleeping like the dead, and I've been up for a while. Cinder wouldn't leave your side, so she still needs a run."

I look at the pup slumbering at my feet. She's never out of my sight unless I put her away. The best guard dog, through and through.

"Stacey can go with you," James adds to the conversation.

I look at my best friend, holding in the laugh bubbling up in my chest. "Stacey, running—right." But neither of them seems to find that thought as ridiculous as I do.

Stace puts her mug down and pushes away from the island counter. "Give me fifteen to get ready, and we can go."

If I had my suspicions before, she just verified them. When she leaves the room, James follows close behind, and I wait until they disappear up the stairs before swinging my gaze toward Harkin.

"So, that happened while we were away, huh?"

"Looks like it," he says with a knowing smile.

I pop off the stool and place my mug in the sink before going over to where he's leaning against the fridge. "Are you really going to let us go for a run on our own?" I ask, pushing into him, even with all the sweat drying against his skin.

"I have something for you before you go. Come here."

Reaching for my hand, he pulls me to the office at the back of the house. I follow behind, excited to see what's in store. He drops my hand, stepping behind the desk to open a drawer. What he drops on the desk top resembles something straight from a sci-fi film. I eye it suspiciously, taking in the shiny metal of a long ass needle attached to the front, and inch closer to the open door.

"Now listen, this is for your own good," he placates, watching me with unease growing in his eyes.

"The fuck are you up to, Harkin?"

"I won't lose you again. This guarantees that." He holds up the instrument, and how he does clues me into its use.

"You want to tag me like a fucking animal."

His lips tick to the side, pulling up into a grin he rightfully tries to hide, but he’s not fast enough.

"I get it. The phone's a liability. But you couldn't be normal and get me a necklace tracker?" I pause, but don't give him enough time to weigh in. "No, not you. That'd be basic." I pace back and forth in the office.

This is insane, psychotic, really. Who does this?

Men who've already had to save your ass once from being kidnapped and then stopped it from happening a second time.

My stupid logical brain points out.

I halt on my back-and-forth pathway, turning to stare him down. "What about you?"

He doesn't miss a beat, lifting his left arm. Against the inside of his bicep, camouflaged by dark ink, the slight bulge of a tracker sits under his skin.

"I wouldn't ask you to do something I wasn't willing to do. You want to know where I am, it pings directly to your phone, sweetness. But before we handle this, there's something more important to discuss." He draws in a deep breath, and the beautiful artwork on his chest expands.

"The test results."

He nods and pulls out his phone. "I haven't opened them yet."

"I figured as much." I push away the tracker bullshit for now and move around the desk, dropping against it in front of him.

"How long have you known?" he asks, eyes unfocused across the room.

"Long enough to deduce you weren't ready to hear the results—either way." I let that settle between us.

He shifts, eyes settling on me while his fingers grip my chin, ensuring he doesn't lose my attention. "This doesn't change anything. You hear me. You're mine, little one. I'll never let you go."

Emotion coils in my throat, clogging my agreement, but I still manage a small nod. He deflates from the small motion and hands me the phone with the lit screen. His grip moves from my face to my waist as he waits for the life-changing news.

I've been waiting for this information for months. I'm a rip the wax strip off on two and let the pain barrel in so you can shove it down and away instead of waiting anxiously in anticipation kind of person. My eyes scan down the markers with random numbers, looking for the important bit. They stop, and my whole body tenses at what I see: the alleged father is excluded as the biological father of the tested child. And then everything inside me crumbles, and the phone slips from my fingers, thudding to the floor. Harkin is on me in a second, gathering me into his arms. Wetness skims my cheeks as I breathe in his scent, tucked into his neck.

"Fuck baby, I'm so sorry," he whispers to me as if I need consoling.

The silent sobs of relief turn to giggles, and he shoves me away at arm's length. "I—I won," I whisper, shocked something in life didn't try to take me out at the last minute—his confusion broadcasts. I clarify and expand, saying, "She doesn't get you. Not even a sliver."

"It's negative?" He stares me down.

"Yeah. Why were you worried?" I tease. The elation of finally having that dark cloud banished from over our heads washes over me.

His eyes tighten, and the firm grip my wet dreams are laced with curls around my throat before my smart mouth can run away with me. He uses the leverage to push me back until I’m lying flat against the desk and my head hangs off the other side.

His open mouth trails down my throat and across my chest. The sharp bite of pain from his teeth sinking into the top of my bulging breast makes my pussy pulse, distracting me.

Because in two point five seconds, his fingers intertwine with mine, stretching my arm out on the desk, and a piercing sting radiates from the sensitive flesh of my inner arm.

"Fuck!" I scream and twist under his weight, trying to break free.

"Two problems solved." He winks and drops a quick kiss on my forehead.

The office door flies open, James poised with his gun at the ready and my best friend at his back. He takes us in and holsters his weapon, assessing that there's no danger, but he'd be wrong.

Popping off the desk, I swing on Harkin. I don't put all my weight into it without wraps, but the right jab catches him off guard. I take a play from his book and grab his chin, lowering my voice. "If you ever do some shit like that again, I'll cut the thing from my body and drop it in the ocean. Have fun finding me then."

I turn on my heels and move past James as he watches the exchange in his usual stoic manner. Wrapping my fingers around Stacey's wrist, I pull her behind me, calling Cinder to follow as we finally leave for our stupid fucking run.