CHAPTER 6
Harper woke up to the familiar scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. Kessed had been a Starbucks barista before she started to work with Jasper, so coffee was a staple at the Matthews house.
Which was perfectly fine with Harper.
This morning, she needed more than just caffeine. She needed a fresh serving of dignity, too.
Damn it all. She’d been such an idiot last night. And as luck would have it, she had to see Sterling today.
She could be a woman about it, apologize and level with him, but honestly, she just didn’t want to. It was so much easier to pretend, to beat around the bush—she was used to playing the game. And for Sterling to be so blatantly honest...it freaked the hell out of her.
Because that meant that it was real.
The kiss, it wasn’t just a spur of the moment act of insanity.
It was thought out, intended.
Enjoyed.
And that meant that he wanted more...and more wasn’t something she was prepared to give.
Maybe ever.
Harper rolled over in bed, putting the pillow over her head as she sighed deeply. Well, nowhere to go but through it. She took another slow breath then tossed the pillow aside and stood up from the bed, running her fingers through her snarled hair and tucking it behind her ear. As she looked to the tips, she noted their fading color and mentally made a note to call and get a hair appointment. With the race coming up, she wanted to be all fresh and ready.
In control.
Even if it was just of her hair color.
It was the little things, and eventually the little things added up. She may have a lapse of judgment here or there...
Like running away from Sterling.
She closed her eyes and relived the moment again.
Shit.
Twisting her lips, she pushed her thoughts aside and got dressed. After wrapping her hair into a quick messy bun, she followed her nose into the kitchen, her gaze zeroing in on the coffeepot.
“Morning,” Jasper’s raspy tone called to her as she poured herself a large mug of coffee.
“Morning,” she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
“You sound awake,” he teased, and she glanced over to him and glared.
“Are your eyes even open? I can’t tell.” Jasper narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
Harper flipped him off.
“Ah, yup, she’s awake.” He chuckled.
“Hey, morning.” Kessed walked into the room in her cut-off shorts and one of Jasper’s flannel shirts.
As she walked by him, he smacked her ass playfully.
“And we’re done. None of that before I’ve had my coffee. I can’t deal with you two normally, let alone before I’ve had at least this entire pot of coffee.” Harper lifted her mug and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Leave your sister alone,” Kessed teased Jasper, leaning down and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Turning to Harper, she raised an eyebrow. “PG enough for you?”
Harper nodded once. “Thank you.”
“What won’t be PG is when—”
Kessed smacked the back of Jasper’s head as she walked behind him to grab a coffee mug from the cabinet.
Harper snickered.
“Don’t encourage her.” Jasper folded his beefy arms across his chest.
“We gotta stick together,” Harper replied, and as Kessed passed her, she lifted her hand, and they high-fived.
“It’s a conspiracy.” Jasper sighed.
“Basically.” Kessed shrugged, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
Harper grinned and lifted the saltshaker. “Hey, Jasper...” She waited till she had her brother’s attention.
He narrowed his eyes as she sprinkled some salt in her hand. “...I a-salt you.”
“Lame.” Jasper brushed the salt from his sleeve that Harper had just tossed in his direction.
“Best joke ever.” Kessed took a seat beside Jasper.
“If you didn’t grow up with it happening all the time. I swear, I’ve swept more salt off this floor.”
“Whatever, like you’ve never done it to me,” Harper teased.
“Regardless...I’m the one sweeping it up.”
“You’re a good maid.” Harper chuckled.
Jasper shook his head. “Anyway, so Kessed and I have a full day of making the rounds. What are you up to?”
Harper leaned back in her chair. It was the usual start to the morning. Jasper was a planner, and being the overprotective brother that he was, he always let Harper know where he was...and in return wanted to know where she’d be as well.
“I’m helping Sterling later this morning, then I’m working on your paperwork for the vet calls you did yesterday. Spartan and I have to practice again, so I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon riding. It’s not supposed to be too warm, so I think he’ll be good to go.”
Jasper nodded. “Sounds productive. I charged my phone—”
“Miracles happen,” Harper commented.
“Are you done?” Her brother gave her a beleaguered expression.
Harper grinned and took a sip of coffee as her answer.
“So, if you need me, you can actually call my phone, rather than Kessed’s.”
“Cool.” Harper stood and walked to the cabinet and pulled down a bowl. “Well, you guys have a good day, and let me know if you need any supplies from storage. I can run it out to you if you get in a bind.”
“Thanks, Harper,” Kessed answered for Jasper, who was mid-sip of coffee.
“Anytime.”
Jasper and Kessed left soon after, and Harper was chasing her last Cheerio in her bowl when her phone buzzed. The number wasn’t familiar, so she let it go to voicemail.
She placed her bowl in the sink as her phone buzzed with a voicemail.
Frowning, she unlocked it and tapped on the voicemail icon. As she waited for the transcript to process, she sat back down.
Her eyes widened as she read the short message, her heart pounding quickly as her eyes zeroed in on the name.
Mr. Linden.
The office of the prosecuting attorney who had convicted her husband.
Ex-husband.
The paralegal wanted her to call back.
Harper locked her phone and tossed it onto the table, her hand shaking.
This couldn’t be good. Could it?
She peeked at the phone then bit her lip. Her heart pounding an erratic rhythm, she felt adrenaline course through her system.
Damn it all, she hated the way he made her afraid, even when she knew he wasn’t anywhere close.
It was stupid to have that kind of a reaction. It was over, he was in jail, and she was safe.
Safe.
Safe.
Yet knowing she was safe wasn’t the same as feeling safe.
She bit her nail and looked to the phone once more.
With a shaky finger, she dialed the number and held her breath when it rang.
“Hello, Tacoma office of Livingston, Linden, and Owen. How may I direct your call?”
Harper gave her name and was quickly directed to Mr. Linden’s paralegal.
“Ms. Matthews?” the paralegal asked, her tone detached as if robotic.
“Yes.” Harper took in a slow breath, one arm wrapping itself around her in a hug as she waited.
“Thank you for returning my call. We will be mailing out the official papers, but we wanted you to be aware that your ex-husband is up for parole.”
Harper closed her eyes, the words vibrating through her like a bullet in a steel box.
“Ms. Matthews?” the paralegal asked, her tone inquiring.
“Yes. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Of course. The parole isn’t approved yet, and if so, we will be issuing a restraining order, just so you’re aware.”
“Thank you,” Harper managed, her hand shaking as it held up the phone.
“Do you have any questions?” the woman asked.
Only about a million. Like why is that bastard up for parole? “No.”
“You have a good day, Ms. Matthews.”
“You too.” Harper ended the call and set the phone down in the middle of the table. Rubbing her hands together, she tried to warm them up from the chill that had overtaken her body.
Her mind flashed back to the stairs, the way her body had instinctively folded around her unborn baby...the scent of cigarette smoke and then of hospital cleaner...the sound of the heart monitor in the hospital room.
One heartbeat.
One.
Tears landed on her lap before she even realized she was crying.
Mourning.
Would it ever end?
She swiped the tears away angrily.
She was stronger than this! It was the past; it was history.
It was part of her. But it would not define her.
Not if she could help it.
Yet, that didn’t make the fear any less real, or her body’s reaction any less violent. But it did help her to see through it, to make the conscious effort to move forward in spite of it.
Grabbing her phone, she marched to the bathroom. She set it to the side and splashed her face with cold water, meeting her own gaze in the mirror.
She took three deep breaths then opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to grab her toothpaste. As she reached for it, her eyes caught the orange bottle with a white cap.
She glanced to the toothbrush then back to the bottle.
Her name was printed across the label, the dosage and name of the medication all too familiar.
All too easy.
Her hand shook as she took the bottle from its place on the shelf. She paused before she put the bottle away and all but slammed the cabinet shut, the mirror vibrating with the force of the swing.
“No.” She spoke out loud.
Brushing her teeth, she gripped the toothbrush with a tenacity that wasn’t required, but one that reminded her to hold on.
To not let go.
Don’t give in.
She spat and didn’t put away the toothpaste or brush, not wanting to face the temptation again.
And as she walked from the bathroom, she looked to the mirror and back.
She really should throw them away.
She took a small step back then paused.
What if...
What if she needed them someday?
The prescription couldn’t be refilled, and she only had a few pills left.... What harm could it cause?
There wasn’t enough to do any real damage.
Keeping them was safer. Making her feel like she had options. An escape.
Even if she never planned on taking them.
After turning the light off, she walked down the hall, her focus on the upcoming events of the day.
Forcing herself to not think about the past.
Or what might happen in the future.
But just the next breath.
Breathe. Just breathe.
She could do this.
One breath at time.