Chapter Seven
Harper
“Cena,” I said, knocking on the bathroom door. “You all done?”
“Just plucking my eyebrows!”
“What?” I sputtered, bursting into the room. Steam from the shower had turned everything hazy; she stood in front of the mirror, grinning at me. Her eyebrows were intact. “Don’t scare me like that!”
Giggling, she tipped her head upside down, drying her hair with a towel. She’d slipped into her long blue night-shirt, the length exposing her knees. She was going to be taller than me, at this rate.
Chasing her into her bedroom, I tucked her under the blankets. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” I said, killing the lights. “Maybe we’ll go to the zoo or something.”
“Can Jack come?”
I went stiff. “I don’t know. Why do you want him there?”
“He makes me feel safe. Like you do, Hap.”
Hovering in the doorway, I watched my little sister thoughtfully. Her eyes were wide; luminous in the night sky that drifted through her window. “Cena… is something making you worried?” An idea struck me. “Do you still feel like you’re being watched?”
She rolled onto her side. “Just ask Jack to come with us. Please.”
Her shoulder rose and fell. I wasn’t sure if she was already asleep or not, so I whispered, “Alright.” Something was plucking at me; what was making Cena so scared? Why did she think someone was watching her?
Shutting the door, I stared at it and the flowers taped there. It was impossible not to think about my encounter with Jack earlier today. He’d revealed so much to me, I’d done the same for him. No one knew I was keeping my voice a secret from Callum except for Cena, and she didn’t really get the why of it. I was lucky she respected the sanctity of sister secrets.
Moving to the kitchen, I looked at the island. The water glasses from Jack and I still sat there. He kissed me, I remembered, brushing my lips. He’d gotten so worked up, then he’d run away. It was only when he came out of the bathroom that he revealed his plan.
Staring at that room, a creeping sensation of unease moved up my body. On soft steps I entered the bathroom. The shower steam was long gone, but there were streaks on the mirror where Cena had written “I <3 Ice Cream.”
Grabbing a towel, I started to wipe it clean. My gaze wandered upwards. I saw my own tired eyes—knew I’d have to pack on the makeup thick for work tonight. Guys didn’t like when you looked exhausted.
Something glinted between the light bulbs. I spotted it in my reflection, squinting as I drew closer. On tiptoe I peeled the almost invisible black device off of the vanity. In my fingers it was cold; my heart grew colder as I studied it.
A camera?
Someone was watching this room… someone was looking at me in the shower. No, not just me. I nearly vomited; I gripped the sink, hunkering down as I fought a wave of nausea. Someone was able to see Cena showering, too.
And who did I know that could have put this here? Who had spent such a long time in my bathroom today?
I didn’t want to believe it; I didn’t know what else the answer could be. Jack had placed a camera here, and the best case was he was hoping to find… what? Evidence against Callum?
Something was making my ears hurt—I was grinding my teeth. Squeezing the camera, I looked at it closely. It was simple enough; it probably broadcast with a wi-fi signal, the photos uploading somewhere. It had a small on and off button, and to my surprise, I realized it was already off. Jack forgot to turn it on, I guess. But I had to know for sure. Deep down, I didn’t want to believe the man I’d kissed… the man I’d let myself get wrapped up in… was a perverted creep.
It didn’t make sense. I needed answers.
Checking on Cena once more, I grabbed my work bag from the closet. It was early enough that I knew I could do some searching and still get to the club on time. Locking the doors behind me, I took the elevator, bursting with a mix of anxiety and anger as I entered the lobby.
Hector was actually at the desk. He’d worked for Callum for years, was known for being a bit shady. I definitely wouldn’t trust him with my life. But maybe he knows something about remote video recordings. “Hector,” I said, moving his way.
His eyes shot up to spot me. “Harper, hey. Off to work?”
I ignored the way he grinned knowingly. “You ever seen one of these before?” Gently, I set the camera on the desk between us. Hector showed no reaction.
“Where’d you find it?” Frowning, he pinched the camera between two fingers and made a noise.
Abruptly, the idea of mentioning that there might be nude photos of myself floating around gave me cold feet. Biting my tongue, I reached to take the camera back. Hector let me have it, his thick eyebrows lowering an inch. “Never mind that, do you know much about how they work?”
“Usually they send pictures or video to some online server.” His fingers brushed over mine, his voice falling. “Listen, if something is going on, you know you can tell me.”
I knew the look of a man who was willing to trade favors. This was a bad idea. Putting on a sweet smile, I backed up. “You know, I realized I’ve got to get to work. See you.”
Hector nodded. He didn’t take his eyes off of me, not until I turned my back on him, and then I had to just guess. If I can’t find out about the camera from him… the only person to talk to is Jack himself. But he left, where would be go? It was hard to picture him fleeing, not after his admission about wanting revenge on Mister Big.
I didn’t have a clue where to begin. Blind with the peaks and valleys of feeling like a fool for letting Jack close to my sister and I, as well as the desire to want to think he did nothing wrong, I drove around the city. I checked everywhere I could in a two-hour span. I even scouted out the airport, thinking it wasn’t entirely impossible for him to be abandoning his plan and vanishing to another country.
Jack was a ghost.
I can’t keep this up, I decided, noticing I was going to be late to work. I wasn’t a damn bloodhound; if Jack was still in this city I’d find him. It didn’t have to be tonight.
I was a zombie at the club. I moved through the motions, but I was too busy panicking in my head to focus. Most guys don’t care if you’re dead inside, though; they tossed money my way regardless of if I remembered their face or their name.
I didn’t notice my shift was over until the lights flashed on inside the empty club. “Come on,” Spider, the DJ, shouted at me. “Grab your damn ones and go clean up. I’m heading home.”
Nodding, I scooped up the crumpled bills and hurried downstairs. The dressing room was abandoned. Something crunched under my heel; a compact case of blush. The deep rouge looked like blood, I hurried to clean it off the floor.
Rubbing alcohol wipes over my body, I removed every trace of sweat and strange men. Looking in the mirrors reminded me about the bathroom camera. I’d never felt so sick before.
Changing into my jeans and a sweater, I wedged my sore feet into my sneakers and headed upstairs. In the dark hallway, my brain a giant knot, I barely heard him at first.
“Harper.”
Turning, I spotted Mister Big behind me. He was standing by the door to his office, and one small move of his wide jaw told me he wanted to see me in private. Fuck, had he noticed me come in late?
“Hey,” I said, following him inside. It was so quiet; had everyone else left? This was becoming a weird habit of mine. “Everything okay?”
His office was all sharp edges and hard colors; black trim, rich red rug, a desk bigger than some people’s beds. He stood in front of it, hands behind his back and his smile rather coy. “You tell me.”
Shit, he did notice. “Listen, Callum—”
“Call me Mister Big.”
I stopped short. He only asked for that when he was genuinely furious. “Okay. Mister Big, I didn’t mean to show up late. I’m always on time, surely you can overlook this.” The club had a penalty system; being tardy cost two hundred dollars. It was a steep price, I’d never faced it before.
“What were you so busy doing that you lost track of time?”
Unsure how to answer that, I hesitated. That was my first mistake. “Cena had trouble going to sleep.”
“Liar,” he spit. “Try again.”
Sweat warmed between my shoulder blades. He was acting strange; what was going on? “I’m not lying. It’s what happened.” And there was my second mistake.
Sighing, my boss swayed closer. He was fast for such a large man. “Then we’re going this route.”
“What route? Callum—”
The back of his hand landed solidly on my cheek. I didn’t fall, but only because he caught me by the throat with a meaty palm. Each finger sank in, holding on as I scraped at his wrist in surprise. “It’s Mister Big, you lying bitch,” he snarled. “I know what you did today. I know you went to the bank to take out money, I know you went to the airport to buy tickets for you and Cena.”
The cells in my brain had to be dying, because otherwise, what he said made no sense. “Wrong… that’s wrong.”
His smile was so sweet it was cloying. “Thought you’d take your sister and run. As if it wouldn’t be as simple as me calling the police on you. We’ve been over this before.”
“No,” I wheezed. “I wasn’t…”
“You’re as stupid as your mom. She thought she could leave me, too.”
My brain jump started—hot sickness invaded my guts. She’d tried to leave him? I’d never heard that before. I’d never even guessed she was unhappy until I’d found her body. It was then that I’d readjusted my understanding of the world.
I’d seen her growing silence… her fading health… and known it was because Mister Big was in charge of her life. I’d blamed myself for introducing them. I’d blamed myself for her suicide.
His grip constricted on my throat. Thin lines of black began to crawl into my vision. In one swing, he knocked me into his desk, sending everything on top tumbling to the ground along with me.
“She thought she could take you and Cena away. But I had men following her, just like you. Watching. I knew the second she looked up plane tickets for you girls on her fucking laptop. She’d even sent herself copies of the photos I had of you from the dressing rooms, trying to blackmail me.”
Like a terrible dream you remember after you wake up, everything he said began to flow together. I’d met Callum when I was at a middle school pageant. He’d “discovered” me, given me his card, and I’d brought him to meet my mother. I mistook his hungry eyes for excitement at my skill. Not attraction to my teen body. I was young and innocent.
Like Cena.
“No one seems to understand me,” he said against my scalp. His fist knotted there, holding me still. “No one gets the thrill of being so much bigger than those young girls. I feel like a giant. How can that be so terrible? And Cena.” Fuck, when he said her name, my heart broke in two. “She’s starting to look just how you did when you were fourteen. She’s maturing so quickly.”
The flickering defeat inside of me found a waft of air. My terror… my righteous disgust for my little sister… it gave me strength.
Callum forced me to the floor. My cheek was crushed into the maroon rug of his office; the fibers burned my skin, then I suddenly didn’t feel it. All I felt was the way my shoulder was stretching to its limit, reaching for one of the pens that had rolled off his desk.
He whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about you, how I never got to have my way. Photos… all I was allowed was to look. So I looked, Harper. I watched you so long I didn’t see your mother watching what I was doing.”
My mother had known. She’d tried to save us.
It wasn’t suicide. He murdered her.
“Harper,” he said thickly. His cracked lips stroked my earlobe. “Stay like this, let me—FUCK!”
In a great thrust of my body I’d stabbed the pen into his cheek. Callum roared, pulling away, giving me enough room to scramble backwards towards the wall. He was between me and the door.
Standing tall, he threw the once silver but now red pen onto the rug. “You stupid slut,” he snarled. His palm clasped his face; blood dripped between his fingers, across his teeth and chin. “You’re going to die now. Understand that? It won’t be nice or quick, either.”
The click of a gun came from behind him. I stared over his head, my face morphing into surprise. Jack was in the doorway, his frame so wide he blocked the hallway out. The handgun he gripped was aimed calmly on Mister Big. “Move,” Jack said. “Back up.”
Callum did as he was asked, shifting so his back was to the desk, facing his attacker. He swiped at his own hair; blood smeared on his forehead, sticking in the brown strands. “Who are you?”
“A dead man,” Jack said, shutting the door behind him. “One that you buried long ago.”
Screwing up his face, he studied Jack, the gun, then he glanced at me. Mister Big saw my triumphant smile, and it amazed me that his voice came out so smoothly. “I buried a lot of men. You’ll have to be more clear.”
Jack laughed, the sound like an old house falling to the ground. It gave me goosebumps. He placed the tip of the gun to Callum’s bloody cheek. “I’ll remind you with a story. One that begins with a cruel giant taking advantage of a small boy.”
His eyes shot wide. “Jack?” he whispered.
“The very same.”
I swallowed, slowing rising to my feet as my stepfather watched me. “I’m glad to see you’re whole. I always wondered what happened to you.”
“Bullshit.” Lifting his shirt with his free hand, he displayed some scars that were worse than the small ones he’d made me feel on his face. “Your guys did a number on me. Guess you didn’t count on me being saved by an angel.”
That went over Callum’s head. Or at least, he didn’t seem to connect that I’d been the one to save Jack so long ago. He was busy giving his attention to the gun in his face. “Jack,” he said, and the bastard smiled wide. “Let’s talk. You’re here because you want something, right? What is it, money? I’ll happily give you that.”
“I don’t want you to happily give me anything.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a few thick squares of paper. He dropped the photos onto the desk; all of us looked. I rocked to one side when I spotted myself in one of them.
Mister Big’s chest rose as he began to panic. “What are those?”
“You know what they are,” Jack growled. “Your little camera set up was pretty slick. Running the feed to your unlocked laptop was bold, though.”
“It was in my penthouse, how did you…” His mouth snapped shut, he was glowing a furious red.
“Hector might throw a mean kick, but he sucks at his job.” Jack’s head swung side to side. “Left his station more than long enough for me to snatch a master key card to your place. I’d say you should fire him, but when we’re done here, you won’t have that kind of power anymore.”
I couldn’t find him because he was right above me in the penthouse. I picked up some of the photos. Each had a time stamp on them; most were from the last week, a couple were from months ago. Way before I’d met Jack… and before he’d entered my home. The camera really didn’t belong to him.
“It was off when I found it,” I said, looking at Jack. “You turned it off. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have said Callum was filming us, I would have…”
“Believed me?” He adjusted his grip on the gun. “Maybe. But I didn’t have proof, not until I accessed the server and downloaded the photos from that camera’s feed.”
My foot touched the bloody pen; it rolled away from me. “You were coming here tonight to confront him. Jack, if you hadn’t, I’d be dead.”
“Tsk,” he said, ending my dark ramble. His attention went back to the oddly silent owner of the club. “It’s pretty obvious that these photos will ruin you, Callum. I didn’t bring the worst, but thousands of pictures of your own underage daughter exist. Pictures you took. You own that server, you placed that camera.”
Mister Big waited, his eyes closed now. “Get to what you’re after.”
“Sign over the club to me. Then you’re going to quietly accept jail time for creating child porn. Don’t lawyer your way into a smaller penalty, don’t fight it. You’re going to bow your head and take the title of fucking pedophile with pride,” he spat. The tendon in Jack’s neck bulged. His grip on the pistol tightened, then loosened; he was struggling with an urge that deeply wanted to murder this man.
Jack said, “You’re also going to stay out of the custody situation between Harper and her sister. No cruel words or mud-slinging, she’s the best person to care for Cena, and you know it.” He inhaled sharply, bending near Callum so I almost couldn’t hear his next words. “If you don’t do this exactly as instructed, your fate is simple: I’ll shred you up bit by screaming bit. You see, I’m not scared of jail or death. I’m going to hell just like you are, and if I have to drag us down together, arm in arm, I will.” He watched me from the corner of one eye. “I’d just prefer to wait a bit before I cross those gates.”
The gravity of his admission kept my feet stuck to the rug. He’d bluntly said that he expected to be welcomed to Hell with open arms. But somewhere between our fated meeting in an alley and our kiss in my home, he’d made a decision. He wanted more time—with me.
Mister Big finally opened his eyes. “I don’t have much choice. I’ll sign whatever you want.”
Jack didn’t remove the pistol. “One more question. I know who bought the house and the farm, but who did you sell my mother’s necklace to? The one with the three bean shaped emeralds?”
My stepfather stared, apparently searching his brain. “I don’t know what happened to that.” His attention slid my way. “I gave it to her mother long ago. I looked for it after she died, but…”
“Think harder,” Jack said. He fingered the trigger.
“Wait.” One of my feet glided over the rug; a half-step, enough so I could rest my fingers on Jack’s shoulder. The man was all steel, but under my touch, he started to melt. “He really doesn’t know. But I do.”
Nodding, Jack kept his weapon on Callum and tossed me a roll of tape. “Tie him to his chair. We’ll call the police so he can make his confession.”
I moved quickly, rolling the thick tape around my stepfather’s wrists. He didn’t struggle, he just stared straight ahead, his skin a sallow cheese color. “Harper,” he said under his breath. I didn’t slow down, the tape squeaking. “Harper… listen closely. That man’s insane. I didn’t take those pictures. I—”
Slapping a chunk of tape over his mouth, I turned the chair so he was facing me. “She was beautiful, amazing, she risked everything to try and save Cena and I from your twisted shit. This whole time, I blamed myself for her death. How could you kill her?”
With his mouth sealed he couldn’t answer. That was fine; nothing he could say would satisfy me.
Jack was talking on his phone in the doorway. I caught the words, “Child molester.” And also, “Ready to confess, tied him up so he won’t change his mind.”
There was blood on my hand from where I’d stabbed Callum. Scrubbing my skin on my jeans, I gestured for Jack to come with me. “The police on their way?”
“Yeah. Said they’re sending a car now.”
The second we entered the hallway, the door cracked just so it lit up the dark walls, he pounced on me. Fingers grasped madly for my face, my hair, my hips; Jack kissed me with such heat I forgot my own name.
This is real. This isn’t a dream.
“You almost died,” he gasped out. I saw my reflection in his glistening stare. “When I saw you on the rug in there, the bruises on your throat…” I touched my tender skin as he mentioned it; how bad did it look? “Harper, I had all these plans. Clear, factual pieces on a map. But the second I saw how he’d hurt you… fuck, I nearly shot him. It would have ruined everything but I came so fucking close.”
“But you didn’t.” Holding his head steady, I made him look at me. His eyes were rabid. “You didn’t kill anyone. Jack, you got your revenge. Beyond that, you saved me and Cena. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m the one who needs to thank you.” His fingers flexed in my hair; open and shut. “I nearly kidnapped a kid. How the fuck could I be such a broken monster?” His head hung low, voice stirring the air between us as my chin rested on his scalp. “Harper… I hate that man in there for so many reasons. But I almost became just like him.”
“You’re nothing like him, Jack.”
“I said almost.” When I tried to pull him up, he fought me. “I nearly hurt a kid. Just like that piece of shit.”
“Jack!” Grappling with his jaw, I forced him upwards. He let me this time, or maybe I was finally strong enough. There was a shine in his eyes. I worried he’d cry, because my heart would surely crumble from the pain. “Callum did something unforgivable. There’s no reason to do what he does.” Those damn photos. I had the urge to go back inside and kick him in the teeth. “Kidnapping Cena would have been wrong, but you had a reason, and what matters is you didn’t go through with it.”
“It was because of you that I stopped myself.” His arms circled me until I lost all the air in my lungs. His kiss was the only source of oxygen. The only beam of life-giving light. “I love you,” he whispered, the words tattooing on my soul. “I’ve loved you since the day you saved my life.”
Then there were tears. The salt burned my eyes, it tasted bitter as we kissed, somehow savory and addictive. If this was what love tasted like… felt like… I was content to become a glutton. “I love you too, Jack. It’s not been long, it makes no sense—”
“Love never has to make sense.”
“—But it’s true. I love you with everything I have, all my broken bits.” I imagined if you took all our pieces, you could glue enough of the good ones together and make something whole… maybe something beautiful.
We held each other as the sirens grew in the distance. “Promise me something,” he whispered.
“Anything.”
“Callum is gone. There’s no reason not to sing again.”
I tightened up like a cannon ready to fire. “It feels strange. Wrong, to think I could do it out in the open again.”
“It’s not like before.” He brushed the new tears from my eyes. “Hell, it wasn’t ever like it seemed. It wasn’t your fault that your mother met Callum. Your talent isn’t a curse, but not using it surely is.”
Thinking it through brought me pain. Old scars split open, spitting out memories I’d stowed away to make it easier to live each day. Singing with my mother when I was just four… learning the words to Christmas songs… harmonizing with the most stunning woman I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and who Cena reminded me of each day.
I linked my fingers with his. “You have to promise me something, too.”
“The world, the moon, all the treasure in existence.”
My smile felt like I’d never worn it before. “I’ll sing, but you’ll have to be there to listen.”
Jack’s laughter rumbled through his chest and into mine. It created buttery heat, a sensation in my mouth like I’d eaten too much cream. It was addicting. “I’ve waited seven years to hear you sing again, Harper.” His lips tickled across mine until I shivered. “I won’t miss another musical note if it means I have to tie myself to you by the hip.”
And I knew he meant it.