Anna sat at the bar the rest of the day, watching the world pass by and wondering how the hell she’d landed in this situation. Missy and Pat refused to let her work, and she didn’t want to be upstairs alone in her apartment, not so close to Johnny’s place. Tuesday, she spent her time on the same bar stool watching the world go by outside the windows and missing her parents more than normal. Her dad, Winston, would know what to do. He was the smartest person she’d known. He loved puzzles, and Anna had inherited that trait.

Growing up, he was constantly setting up scavenger hunts for her to solve, puzzles that would take her all over the city and lead her back to the bar, or their apartment, or another spot they liked to frequent. A little girl’s giggling voice echoed in her ears from long ago, joined by a man’s deep belly laugh she missed every day.

“You really think he’s after the bar?” Missy asked as she wiped down glasses and pulled Anna from her painful reminiscing.

“He never seemed interested in it before, but lately, we’ve been making a pretty penny.”

“Because you’ve been running it. If he takes it away from you, it’ll fail. He should know that.”

“I think it’s because he wants something else that he’s never going to get,” Anna seethed, shooting back another shot of tequila. She spun around on her barstool, tilting her head to the side as she picked at her nails. “What do you think about Harold?”

Missy sighed behind her. “Don’t do it.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Anna argued.

“No, but I can hear it in your voice. You left him because he tried to change you, remember? You really think if you wind up with him again, he won’t keep pushing until he pushes you into hating him?”

Anna considered arguing that it might not be the same, but the proof was right in front of her today. Her feelings for Harold might be alive and well, but putting herself in that vulnerable state to be hurt again when her heart had yet to mend was asking for a disaster. She didn’t want him back anyway.

“You’re doing it again,” Missy warned her. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“I’m not going back to him,” she said, spinning back around.

“Your mouth says one thing and your face says something completely different.” Anna pursed her lips at Missy and held up her empty shot glass. “You sure? It’s barely past noon.”

“Yes, I’m sure, since you and Pat won’t let me work. Just one more and you can cut me off for the day so I don’t do anything I’ll regret.”

Missy mumbled under her breath as she reached for the tequila bottle. “Did you get a chance to look at Johnny’s face? After it was beaten up and all?” she asked as she poured the clear liquid in the shot glass.

“Briefly,” Anna grated. “Why?”

“The way those wounds look…I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing.”

“Missy, my bar and my freedom for at least five to ten years is on the line,” she said sharply. “Whatever is on your mind, tell me, please.”

She tucked the bottle away, her lips screwing up to the side as she whispered, “You remember a few months ago, Johnny had that friend hanging around, the one he said was a UFC fighter? Said that he was training Johnny, giving him some moves and what not?”

“The same friend that hit on us both constantly?” she said slowly. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“He lives in the city, right?”

“I think so, not that I would really know. I haven’t seen him around.”

Missy shrugged. “Johnny took a hefty beating a few times, and those bruises on his face when he came in here Sunday to gloat about you being arrested for losing your temper…they reminded me a lot of those days when they were fighting each other.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Anna murmured.

For weeks, Johnny would show up in her bar with his face bruised and swollen, a few black eyes, and a broken nose at least once. His dream back then had been to follow his friend into fighting and make a name for himself, but he’d barely lasted a few months. He gave up and turned his sights elsewhere.

To Anna, to be specific, and her bar. He commented constantly about how successful it was and dropped hints about some sort of partnership. Since he was the landlord, it would be beneficial to her and to the bar, but she was not about to turn over any part of it to him. She was a few years away from being able to buy the bottom floor from Johnny. His uncle had told her dad that years ago, and she had the written agreement tucked safely away in the safe in her apartment. Once she had enough money, she would own the bar flat out, and Johnny would no longer be a problem, except for her apartment rent.

“Anna?”

“Yeah, I remember the guy’s face, but I can’t think of his name. What was it?”

“Josh? No, Jimmy?”

“Do you really think Johnny would go so far as to have his friend beat him up to pin it on me?”

“Well, he knew about the contract between your dad and his uncle, right?”

Anna nodded. “He was there when they drew up the papers and signed with his uncle, just as I signed with Dad.”

“And there’s no way out of the contract, I bet, unless something happens to you,” Missy pointed out. “I guess some people are just assholes. I’m telling you, Anna, find that friend of his. Concord’s not that big a city.”

“I’ll let Harold know when I talk to him again.”

“Harold Jenson III,” Missy said, mocking his name. “He better get your ass out of this, or he’s going to have to deal with me.”

“He’s never lost a case, last I heard,” Anna said, spinning around her final shot for the day. “Let’s hope he doesn’t start with mine, if it ever gets to court.” The liquor gurgled uncomfortably in her gut as reality settled on her shoulders. “He can’t get away with this, right? I don’t want to go to jail.”

Missy rested her hand on Anna’s. “You’re not going to jail. You’re innocent, we all know that.”

“The cops didn’t say anything about the security feed from the hall, did they?”

Missy and Pat told her that morning the cops came by Saturday to ask about the security in the building and about Anna. They said they found the feed for the hallway outside her and Johnny’s apartment, but the video was fuzzy and they could hardly make anything out on it. Convenient that it messed up the night Johnny was attacked when all the other times she saw it, the feed worked perfectly. It was tied into the same feed for the bar, but she was able to personally monitor that feed while Johnny was the only one who had the feeds to the rest of the building.

“Like I told you, they said there was nothing they could go on. I asked them about the bar feed, but they said they didn’t need it if it didn’t show you down here at the time of the attack.” She patted Anna’s hand again. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

“And if I lose the bar? What happens then?” Nervously, she played with the skull necklace she’d put around her neck again. Just because she would be seeing him didn’t mean she couldn’t wear it. The necklace suited her, and her latest habit when the stress built was to play with the little charm given to her by a man she honestly thought she loved.

“You keep your ass positive, you hear me? You will not lose this bar. Harold knows how much it means to you, right?”

Anna believed he did, but she sensed if it came down to her bar and or keeping her out of jail, Harold would convince her to give up the bar in a heartbeat, if only to keep his record intact. She threw back her last shot of tequila as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She wanted to say she no longer had Harold’s number saved in her phone, but that was a lie. His name appeared along with a message.

“Who’s that?” Missy asked.

“Harold. I’m needed at his office so I can fill out some paperwork on me using his services,” she grumbled. “Call me a cab, would you?”

“Sure thing, hon.” Missy picked up the bar phone and called a cab.

Anna remembered Harold’s office, the stuffy room in the corner of the prestigious offices in downtown Concord, one of the oldest buildings in the state. His family had been lawyers since they arrived in the city when it was first founded, and they enjoyed reminding everyone in the state of the Jenson family legacy. His mother especially. She dropped several hints each time she found herself around Anna and Harold that she may not be cut out for their world. She wore jeans and tank tops and owned a bar, whereas her son was a lawyer, one of the best on the east coast, and clearly in need of a woman to match his standing.

Anna would never be that woman, and she was certainly not going to try.

“Cab will be here in twenty,” Missy told her. “You want me to tag along? Pat can cover the afternoon shift.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”

* * *

Harold received Anna’s message saying she would be there within a half hour. He set his phone down and strode anxiously around his office, loosening his already loosened tie again and finally hung his fingers on the front pockets of his vest to keep them from twitching so damn much. He did, in fact, need her to come in so they could fill out all official paperwork, but he would be lying to himself it he didn’t admit he wanted her there to see her again and correct how they left their conversation yesterday.

All last night, he ran over his admission in his mind and how to tell her he had gone after her. He reached the far end of his office, pivoted, and stalked back the other direction.

“Brooding suits you,” Bailey called from the doorway, and Harold greeted her and Christian with a brief smile over his shoulder. “You should do it more often. It’s quite attractive, don’t you think?”

“Not so much,” Christian argued. “You look a right mess there, friend. Troubles with a case?”

“No, that’s not his case trouble face,” Bailey said, tapping her chin as she circled around Harold. “That’s his trouble with a woman face. Who is it, dear, and why did we not hear about her Friday night?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “Because I don’t think you need to know about this one. Not at this particular moment in time.”

Bailey scrutinized him through narrowed eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Look, she’s a client, and I don’t want to say anything else or drag you into this,” he explained. They both knew he was always serious when it came to his casework. He didn’t speak about his clients, period, and only consulted them on cases if the client gave him permission. Bailey’s frown said she didn’t like his excuse but held up her hands in defeat. “Thank you.”

“But we do want details, and soon,” she informed him. “I haven’t seen you this anxious over a woman in months.” Her blond brows lifted to her hairline and her mouth fell open. “No. No, it couldn’t possibly be who I think it is.”

Christian rested his shoulder against the doorway. “Care to share?”

“No,” Harold snapped the same moment Bailey said, “Yes,” bouncing on her heels.

“Bailey, please,” Harold begged. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it is, and I’m warning you right now, you’re in for trouble if you’re working for that horrible woman. Is her hair still pink? And those tattoos. Awful, all of them.” She shuddered as if thinking of seeing Anna again would give her nightmares. “Harold, why not pass her case off to someone else? Save yourself whatever agony this woman will cause you.”

“Who said she will cause me any agony? Or did?” He put on his best charming smile to hide the growing worry in his gut. “Look, her case showed up on my desk and I’m doing my pro bono work. That’s all this is. Nothing will happen. She didn’t fit in our world. She knew it and I knew it, so it ended.”

“She walked out on you,” Christian reminded him gently.

Harold’s jaw clenched and he turned away from them so they wouldn’t see his glare. “I have a meeting with a client soon. Would you two mind waiting until later to lecture me?”

“We’re not lecturing you,” Bailey said soothingly and rested her hand on his arm. Normally, her touch didn’t bother him, but today, her hand burned. He shrugged it off, taking a large step away to put distance between him and Bailey. “Nothing will happen. Right.”

“Please leave, both of you. My client will be here soon.”

“Fine,” Bailey bit off sharply. “Fine, but when this goes south—and it will, mind you—don’t come crying to us. We warned you the first time and I’m warning you now. Anna Crawley is bad news and always will be. She stays on her side of the city and we stay on ours.”

Harold’s head bobbed slowly. “And you wonder why they call our families snobs and rich bastards who don’t give a damn about our city or our state?”

Her mouth fell open on a huff, and she stormed out of his office. Christian smothered a laugh and followed her. Their law offices were in the same building, only one floor down. Harold second-guessed his choice of bringing Anna here, but her chances of bumping into them were slim.

“Anna Crawley, how good to see you again,” Bailey announced loudly.

“Shit,” Harold growled and hung his head, but his feet didn’t move to intervene.

“Bailey, how not so good to see you again,” Anna said. “Do you mind moving? I have an appointment I’d rather not miss.”

“Nice hair. You grew tired of the pink?”

“Pink is for summertime. Violet is for the winter. Certainly a woman of your standing understands the need to change her color schemes? Oh wait, isn’t that outfit from last season? My, I think you need to fly to New York and speak with your stylist,” Anna quipped.

Harold took another step closer but still didn’t go out there to break it up. If they wanted to be rude to each other, that was their prerogative. He wouldn’t make his situation with Anna any more difficult than it already was.

“At least I can afford a trip to New York. Tell me, have you even left the state?”

“Why should I? Everything I need is here,” Anna replied sweetly. Too sweetly.

“Ah, yes, your bar. That disgusting hole in the wall that is all your father left for you. Pity he couldn’t leave you anything worthwhile.”

“I don’t need validation from you. Please move.”

“One more thing—if you think for one second you’ll win him back, think again. He’s off-limits to you after what you did the last time. What woman walks away from this kind of life? From a man like Harold?” Bailey asked harshly.

Harold moved until he stood right by the door so he could hear Anna’s reply.

“You know nothing about what happened between us, so back off, bitch.”

“Maybe you should back off,” Bailey snapped. “You’re not even close to being on the same level with him.”

“And you are? Last I heard, you two were no more than fuck buddies.”

Harold stepped out of his office to see Christian struggling to wiggle his way between the two women. “Anna, that’s enough.” She and Bailey whipped their heads around to stare at him, and he hesitated.

“Bailey, Christian, leave please, like I asked you to,” he continued after a tense moment of silence.

Christian grabbed Bailey and sidled out of the way as Harold reached for Anna’s arm. She yanked it out of his reach and stormed past him into the office. He followed and closed the door quietly behind him.

“Was that necessary?” he asked, watching her warily as she picked up a framed photo of him and his friends on the desk and smirked bitterly at it.

“It figures you would side with her. You always did.” She set the frame down hard on the desk.

“What are you talking about?”

“She started that out there in the hall and you know it, but who do you call out? Me. You call me out because heaven forbid you go against your friends or anyone else from your happy world,” she muttered, using air quotes to add to her mocking. “Some things never change.”

Harold’s face grew hot, and he tugged his tie off, tossing it onto his desk. “Can we please move past this and get to why I called you here?”

“Oh, you didn’t set that up to try and humiliate me again?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you showing me yet again that I don’t belong in this world. Well, congratulations. I got the message loud and clear too many times to count now. All you do is rub it in a little bit harder each time,” she ranted, waving her arms wide. “As if I didn’t have enough of that shit when we were together.”

Harold’s mind raced and he shook his head. “Anna, calm down and explain. Please, you’re losing me here. I never did anything to humiliate you when we were together. You, on the other hand, seemed quite happy to drive me to the brink of insanity with your antics.”

The second the words left his mouth, he wished he could swallow them. Anna’s mouth fell open on a gasp of shock that turned into a growl of annoyance. “You bastard. My antics? You want to talk about someone’s antics, how about yours or your mother’s? I acted like myself and you liked it. You liked everything about me until we were around your family or your goddamn friends!”

“That is a lie,” he argued, but she picked up a decorative pillow from the leather couch and chucked it as his head. He grunted as he caught it and threw it to the floor.

“No, the lie is you standing there thinking your actions aren’t what drove me away in the first place.” She picked up the second pillow, clutching it to her chest. “You are the most two-faced man I’ve ever met in my life. And I work in a bar!” She threw the second pillow with a yell, but he dodged it this time.

“I cared for you more than you realize,” he shot back, his chest heaving as he stalked closer, but she moved, putting the couch between them.

“That’s rich. You never showed it, at least not towards the end, and by then it was too late!”

“Too late for what? You walked away from me without a word! You left me!” he reminded her, his rage from that night flooding back into his body. “You were there with me and my family and suddenly, you were gone. There was never an explanation, no reason why!”

She shoved her violet hair from her face and stormed around the couch so she could shove him hard in the chest. “You want to know why I left?”

“Yes!” he yelled. “I want to know why you left what we had behind. Everything about us was good. And you…you gave it all up. You gave me up. Why, Anna?” he asked on a breath as pain joined the anger. “Why?”

Her grey eyes focused on his and he stilled, seeing the exact same pain reflected in those depths. “Because you refused to let me in,” she whispered. “You put up a mask when you’re around those close to you, who expect you to be a certain way, but with me…with me, you were different.” She lifted her hand as if to hold his face and he silently begged for her to, but her hand fell limply to her side. “You were freer around me, happier. But when we weren’t alone, I was nothing more than an embarrassment to you.”

“No,” he growled. “No, that’s not what I thought, or think.”

“Wasn’t it? How many times did you tell me not to come with you to a gathering or a party?” she asked, and he bit the inside of his cheek, thinking back to those days. “I was never going to fit into your world, Harry, and that’s not going to change. I am who I am. The daughter of a biker and his wife. I own a bar. Hell, I have violet hair,” she said, laughing sadly. “You can’t be with me because they would never allow it. I didn’t want to see it then, but I do now.”

“Anna,” he begged as she stepped away from him.

“No, Harry, just…I can’t. I gave you everything I had and you—you couldn’t let that wall down and tell me how you felt. You couldn’t even show me. You hid behind that wall of yours.”

She moved farther away, nearing the door, as his heart pounded in his chest. His mind screamed at him to go to her, to prove her wrong, but another, darker voice told him she was dead right. Those six months he’d spent in a tug of war with himself about who he truly was and who he wanted to be.

He held out his hand for her, not ready to see her walk out on him again, but she reached the door and fumbled for the handle. Tears brimming in her eyes, she mouthed words he didn’t understand and took off out of his office. Harold’s hand dropped, and he stared numbly at the empty doorway. She had left him a second time, but at least now he had answers.

Do you? You have nothing except the knowledge that she left because you were embarrassed of her, he scolded himself. She’s right and you know it. You let them get to you. You always do, and now you lost your second chance with the woman you should be with.

“The hell I did,” he growled and charged out the door after her.

He sprinted down the stairs and out the door into the cold, biting air. He slipped into his car and revved the engine. Several cabs lined the streets, but he couldn’t see if Anna was in one of them as he raced through the city. He parked outside The Crawler a few minutes later and ran inside the doors.

“Anna—where is she?” he asked Missy, out of breath.

“Where’s the fire?” she teased.

“Seriously, where is she?” he repeated, hoping she saw the desperation and apology in his eyes.

Her face softened, and she tossed her bar towel over her shoulder. “She headed upstairs. What are you up to, Harold?”

He didn’t respond except to smile and dashed to the back stairs. He took them two at a time as everything he should have said to her six months ago rushed to get out in one breath, but when he topped the stairs, he slid to a stop.

“Anna?”

She stood at the entrance to her apartment, her body shaking and her keys on the floor at her feet along with her purse. “Bastard,” she hissed, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were wide when he neared her as she stared into her apartment.

“What happened?” he asked and immediately shoved her behind him.

The place was trashed. Her furniture was overturned and smashed along with most of her belongings. They were scattered all over the floor, pictures were torn from the walls, and when he walked further in, the red and black graffiti on the walls made him hold out his arm to stop Anna from coming in any further.

“No, call the cops. You need to report this,” he ordered.

“Harry, what is it? Let me see,” she demanded, but he stopped her, forcibly removing her from the apartment. “What, damn it?”

“Call the cops.”

She shoved him out of the way and ran into her apartment before he could stop her. He pulled out his phone and called for the cops as he heard Anna curse incoherently from inside her apartment. When the operator answered, Harold joined her and glared at the wall covered in spray paint.

“Yes, I need to report a break-in,” he said grimly.

Anna reached out and ran her fingers down the paint as Harold dealt with the operator. When the paint came away wet on her hand, he frowned and reached out to test it, too. He hung up suddenly and put a finger to his lips.

“What?” she whispered. “You think they’re still here?”

He bent down and picked up a broken chair leg to use as a weapon. He wielded it over his shoulder and crept through the apartment towards the hall to the back bedroom. After a few minutes of hearing nothing, he lowered his makeshift weapon until a grunt of annoyance reached his ears. Anna gripped his arm hard enough to bruise it. He motioned for her to stay back, and taking a deep breath, he charged into the room with the chair leg at the ready. A man in a black shirt and baseball cap pulled low over his eyes whirled around, startled.

Harold had a split second to be thankful the man didn’t draw a gun before he drew back his fist and nailed him right in the face. Harold flew backwards from the hit, swinging wildly at the attacker. He landed a solid hit on the man’s shoulder, and he grunted in pain, but another punch sent Harold falling to the floor. Anna yelped, but Harold heard footsteps running out of the apartment. A second later, Anna rushed through the doorway, cursing when she spotted him on the floor.

“Do you believe me now?” she muttered, crouching down beside him. “He busted your cheek pretty good. Must’ve been wearing a ring.” She tugged her sleeve down and pressed it to the wound on his cheek.

Harold relaxed against her, letting her tend to him as he looked around her wrecked bedroom filled with more graffiti. “Yes, I believe you. Who was that?”

“I don’t know,” Anna replied exasperated, “but I bet you he’s the asshole who attacked me at Johnny’s place. The one I was going to tell you about today.”

“Wait, so you do know who it was?”

“No…maybe.” She shook her head, the violet strands falling over his face as softly as he remembered. “We’ll worry about it later.”

Sirens blared outside the building, and Anna called the two officers to the bedroom. Harold let them haul him to his feet and get him to the couch. Anna followed, appearing adrift in a world falling apart around her. And there was Harold, desperately wanting to pick up the pieces and fit her world back together, except with him back in it for good.