The words covered Anna’s living room and trailed down the hall into her bedroom. The paint was wet and covered her hand from touching it earlier. The cops were still speaking with Harold. The same detective who’d spoken to her about attacking Johnny was there. He took her statement down and patted her comfortingly on the shoulder before he walked away.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Crawley. I think this might have been the best thing to happen to you,” he told her.

“Yeah? I’m not sure I see it that way.”

“You should. Now you have an eye witness to another person possibly being involved with what happened during the assault. We’ll look into both incidents very closely.” He gave her an encouraging smile and walked away, leaving her to stare at the letters on her wall.

Slut. Whore. Bitch. They were only words, but knowing why they were on the wall pissed her off with every second she watched the paint run down. The asshole even covered up pictures of her and her parents, pictures of them at the bar. She moved slowly around the edge of the room, her gaze roaming over the damage.

“Oh no,” she whispered and rushed to grab a chair.

“Anna? What are you doing?” Harold asked, walking up behind her.

“The license plates,” she said as she strained to reach up and take them off the wall. The last set her dad had were downstairs in the bar, but the one in her apartment was from his very first bike, the one he rode when he met her mom. “He got paint all over it.” She scrubbed at it furiously, but the paint only smeared, making it worse. The plates were one of the first gifts she’d received from Winston’s scavenger hunts, and Anna loved them and the memory they held of her parents. Tears burned in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks as Harold grabbed her arms and helped her down from the chair. “It’s ruined…he fucking ruined it.”

“We’ll get it cleaned,” he promised, and his hands stilled hers gently. A soothing wave washed over her, and she let him take the plate from her and set it aside. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“No, no, I’m not all right,” she snapped, and he pulled her into his arms as she cried, unable to stay strong anymore. “I’ve been accused of something I didn’t do and then my place is broken into and vandalized! What did I do to deserve this shit, huh?”

“On the bright side, it gave me a chance to see you again,” he murmured.

“Yeah, because we both know you wanted to see me again.” She wiped her eyes and pushed away from him, not that he let her go far. “Harold, really, you don’t have to act all nice to me.”

“Who said this was acting?” He ran his hands down her arms and sighed. “I don’t think I want you staying here tonight, not after seeing this.”

“I’ll bunk with Missy,” she said, but he was already shaking his head.

“No, you’re going to stay with me. That way I know you’re safe,” he told her firmly.

“Really? Just like that you’re going to invite me to stay with you.”

“Why not?” His jaw shifted and he cleared his throat a few times. “Look, what you said in my office…I realize we have a few issues we might need to work through, but I’m willing to do so if you are.”

Anna’s pulse jackhammered in her veins and her mouth went dry. There it was, the second chance with Harold she’d dreamt about. What were the chances of him actually being serious and wanting to work things out? Having him back in her life would bring her happiness, but at the same time, if they failed at their relationship again, there was a chance he would break her heart for good. Living through that pain the first time was hard enough. Doing it a second time?

“Anna?”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” she stated.

“Not going to happen. If I wasn’t here, that man might’ve gone after you instead of me.”

She patted him on the shoulder, each touch sending a tingle through her body she hadn’t felt in months. "I can take care of myself.”

His scowl said that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Grab a bag and some clothes and we’ll get out of here. We can grab some dinner.”

She bit her lip, knowing she shouldn’t say it, but the words slipped out anyway. “Are you sure you want to be seen in public with the purple-haired daughter of a biker?” she asked, running her hand over her ruined sweatshirt.

He tilted her chin up, and the longing in his eyes stole her breath. “I don’t give a damn who sees us together. I let you walk away from me one time, Anna, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I’m not letting you go that easily.” He stepped closer so the heat of his body warmed hers. “Get your things and let’s go somewhere you don’t have to stare at those words.” His hand fell away and she desired his touch again.

“Bag, right,” she muttered roughly and coughed. “I’ll be…I’ll be back.”

Anna pulled the duffel out from her closet and managed to hold her sanity together long enough to grab some jeans, panties, and sweaters and throw them into the duffel. She went to the bathroom and tossed in a few odds and ends, her mind filled with what could happen with her staying at Harold’s. Back in her bedroom, she picked up her dad’s old leather coat and draped it over her arm. She peeked out the door, but Harold was on the phone. She fell to the floor and shoved her dresser aside with a grunt. It scraped across the floor and Harold called her name.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she shoved the dresser further out of the way.

“Taking everything out of the safe that bastard was probably hoping to find.” She knocked the heel of her hand against the corner of the piece of sheet rock and it popped free of the wall. She set the material aside to reveal a safe set into the wall.

“Well now, Anna, you’re just full of surprises,” he said, smirking.

“My dad put this in years ago,” she explained as she turned the dial and opened the small safe. She pulled out the tiny wad of cash she had for emergencies and tucked it in her pocket, but the only other item in there was the contract signed by her dad, Johnny, Johnny’s uncle and, of course, Anna. “I’ll show it to you when we get back to your place. There’s something else I should have told you.”

He nodded and took the duffel bag from her. “We’ll grab takeout on the way home. And some wine. I think we’re going to need it.”

“Wine, really?” she asked, her brow arching.

“Right, I meant tequila. What was I thinking?”

* * *

Anna licked the salt off her hand and shot back the clear liquid. She picked up the lime and sucked on it hard, the tart juice squirting into her mouth as she giggled. Harold cringed as he repeated the same actions, choking down the shot as his cheeks flushed bright red.

“Nope, still don’t like it,” he said after he spat out his lime and shuddered. “I’ll never understand how you drink that swill.”

“Compared to your fancy-ass shit?” she said, nodding to his expensive bottle of red wine.

“This is not swill,” he corrected, picking up the bottle and drinking straight from it.

Anna clapped, impressed. “I’ve only seen you do that one other time.”

“And I was with you.” He set the bottle down on the coffee table and his hand drifted to hers where it rested on her leg. He picked it up, his thumb running over her knuckles as he scooted closer. “I was different when I was with you, wasn’t I?”

It wasn’t a question so she didn’t answer. His fingers entwined with hers, and she was captivated by their connection. All this time apart, she expected it to fade, but she felt as if nothing had changed between them.

“I don’t know if I can change,” he admitted, “but I haven’t been happy since you walked out.”

“I thought you were ready to let me go.” She tucked her feet beneath her and remembered that night so vividly in her mind it was as if she walked out only yesterday. “Half of me hoped you would come after me, but you didn’t.”

He puffed out his cheeks and laughed nervously. “Actually, I did.”

“What? When?” Her heart leapt to her throat and she struggled to breathe. “Harold?”

His sudden smile lit up his face and Anna melted. “Harry. I miss you calling me Harry. And I showed up at your bar maybe a week after you left. I stood out in the rain and watched you, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t get myself to go inside. I stood out there and watched as another guy took you away from the bar to comfort you, a guy who should have been me.”

Anna couldn’t believe it. That night, the night she barely remembered because she was drunk on her sadness and tequila. “Johnny. That was the night I was with him.”

Harold cupped her cheek with one hand as the other wrapped around her waist. “You should have been with me,” he whispered as his lips closed over hers. Anna kissed him back, unable to resist, and he lifted her easily onto his lap. The kiss was languid as their mouths moved as if they’d never left each other. She remembered his taste and parted her lips when his tongue flicked along her lower lip. She nipped his in return and his hands fisted in her sweatshirt as his arousal swelled between her legs. Anna was ready to let her guard down and be with him, but as suddenly as the kiss started, he drew back and she removed herself from his lap, scratched nervously at her head, and tugged her sweatshirt down.

“Right, then,” she said, sharper than she meant to, not meeting his gaze. “I guess we should get back to the case.”

“Yes, the case,” he repeated, regret shining in his eyes. He wiped a hand over his face and whispered loud enough for her to hear, “I’m going to grab another bottle of wine, and anything else for you?”

Yeah, you finally giving in to your damn emotions and taking me to bed, she thought, frustrated, but shook her head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

He picked up the empty wine bottle and her shot glass to carry them into the kitchen. Anna picked up the file she’d removed from her safe and laid it on the table in front of his seat. One of these days, she would find a way to break down that damn wall of his and figure out what the hell he was so scared of. When he returned to the living room, she sat in the chair across from the couch, her legs pulled up and staring at the folder to avoid his gaze.

“This is the contract?” he asked, strictly business.

“Yes, drawn up by Johnny’s Uncle Terry and signed by him, Johnny, myself, and my dad,” she explained. "It states the amount of money we all agreed would need to be saved up and paid in order for my dad to take over ownership of the lower level of the building. It’s all legal.”

“Let me guess, the only way for this contract to be seen as null and void is if something happens to both people from each party?” he asked, examining the contract. “This is some very thorough work.”

“It should be. It was drawn up by your dad.”

His glaze flickered to her briefly. “He never told me he knew your dad.”

“Why would he? He was a biker who owned a bar.” She rubbed her forehead and stood. “Look, it’s been a long day and I’m beat. I’m going to shower and turn in. Can you save your hundreds of questions for tomorrow?”

“If that’s what you need, then please,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She picked up her heavy boots from the floor and raced upstairs and out of his watchful gaze. Inside the guest room, she shut the door and pressed her back into it. That kiss had ignited the dimming fire within her. She hated and loved him for it, wanting to drag him back to her by his shirt and demand to know what his problem was. She settled for stripping out of her clothes and diving into a steaming hot shower. The water soothed her body but did little to ease the wandering of her mind to what would happen over the next few days. Not just with Harold, but with Johnny. If he was willing to go this far to get her out of the picture, where did that leave her with her bar? She couldn’t very well move back into her apartment, not with the man who held the other key to her place.

She rested her hands against the back of the shower, the water running over her head as her hair hung down. Moving in with Harold was out of the question unless she pushed him hard enough that he finally talked to her and let that wall come down.

Do you even want to keep trying? You have enough shit to deal with, you know.

By the time Anna finished her shower and tucked herself into bed, her mind was tangled worse than before. She buried her head under the pillow and waited impatiently for sleep to come and take her away.

* * *

Harold rubbed his eyes after reading through the contract for the fourth time. He had to hand it to his father; he was always thorough when he wrote up contracts of this magnitude. There was no way for Johnny or Terry to get out of it. If Johnny was pushing this hard to get Anna out of the picture, he had a feeling his uncle was dead. He would have Walter start tracking the man down in the morning so he could get more details about this contract and what it fully entailed and if there was any animosity from when the deal was first made. The only person standing in Johnny’s way of keeping ownership of the whole building, and taking control of the bar, was Anna. Too bad Johnny didn’t know her as well as Harold did. She wouldn’t give up that bar unless it was over her dead body.

He sat on the couch for a long while. Earlier, he hadn’t meant to kiss her, but the second their lips met, his life fell back into focus so sharply and so clearly it startled him. She was doing to him exactly what she had the first time. Harold hadn’t been such a free-spirited person in years, and this woman managed to drag it out of him with a laugh, a smile.

A kiss.

His fingertips brushed over his lips, and he was halfway upstairs when he realized he had no plan of action. He reached the guest room and lifted his hand to knock, but the door was open a crack. He peered inside the dark room and smiled warmly.

Anna was curled up on her side, hugging one of the pillows close to her chest. Her violet hair spread out around her and her eyes were closed in sleep. He leaned in the doorway, mesmerized by her restful beauty, peaceful for once. She had fallen asleep several times at his home, and he would carry her up to this room and kiss her forehead. A few times, she curled against his chest, and he slept beside her, unwilling to move in case he disturbed her. Carefully, he stepped into the room and stopped by her bedside. His lips brushed her forehead, and he rested his lightly against hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered on a breath. “For everything.”

His face screwed up at the pain he’d caused her without even realizing it, he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. His palm flattened against the wooden surface as that pain bloomed into a full-on ache starting in his chest and spreading outwards. His body shook and he slid down the door until his back rested against it.

Anna broke him with every look, every touch, and it terrified him. All those late nights they spent talking into the early hours of the morning scared him shitless. That fear was the reason he kept her at a distance. What man was scared of his emotions like that? Or scared of what would happen if he broke tradition and went against the grain of what everyone expected of him? He was a man of nearly thirty and this fear kept him from so much he wanted in his life. Anna had been willing to give him everything and then some when they were together before. Now was the time for him to do the same and prove to her he could be the man she saw buried beneath the arrogance and ego his family and friends had encouraged to grow into something monstrous.

Tomorrow was a new day, and he swore to himself it would be the start of the real him.