Harper

 

“What did you just say?” I demanded.

Randy Jenkins had been in my class at school almost every year as we were growing up, and he was now a local police officer. He blinked at my tone. “I already heard about the letter.”

I thrust the letter toward him. I’d gotten a little worried over the weekend about the combination of the letter and the slashed tires, so I figured it was better to be safe and report it. I certainly hadn’t expected to hear this. “This letter?”

He looked over the page briefly. “Yeah. That’s the one he mentioned. And I guess you also had some trouble with your tires? What we need you to—”

“How do you know about that?” The question was automatic, but it didn’t need to be asked. I knew exactly how Randy knew. “Levi? Are you telling me that Levi came here, on his own, without my knowledge or permission, and you let him fill out a report for something that had absolutely nothing to do with him?”

Randy blinked again. He’d always been a blinker, and evidently, the years hadn’t changed this trait. “It wasn’t official. He didn’t fill out a report or anything. He came in for another reason, and we got to talking, and he just mentioned that you’d been having some trouble and wanted us to keep our eyes open. What’s wrong with that?”

I was stewing, so angry I trembled with it, and I couldn’t trust myself to speak right away.

Taking my silence as agreement, Randy grinned. “See? Not a big deal, right? You must be worried too since you’re coming in about it. Levi’s a good guy. He’s just looking out for you.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Looking out for me.”

I felt like laying into Randy since he happened to be present. It wasn’t his fault though, and he wasn’t the target of my rage. So I filled out a report and turned in the letter and was told they’d do what they could and would give me a call with any results.

I understood that to mean that they’d do some superficial inquiries, but they didn’t think it was a big deal, and there wasn’t that much they could do anyway.

I didn’t think it was a big deal either, but I didn’t want to be foolish and ignore a real threat.

When Randy suggested that since the letter writer was angry because I’d been so vocal about my brother’s death and the military’s actions surrounding it, a smart thing might be for me to cool it, I just gave him a stony look.

He was exactly like Levi. Exactly like Gavin had been too. Wanting to pat me on the head and shut me up. Refusing to take me seriously.

It felt like I’d spent all my life trying to prove myself to other people, and I was getting really sick of it.

On my way out of the police station, I called Levi. When he didn’t pick up, I let his voice mail have it.

“Listen, Levi. I’m telling you for the last time to mind your own business. You don’t get to go to the police on my behalf. You don’t get to poke around in things that only concern me. You don’t get to try to control me or tell me what I can or can’t do. I’m an adult. I’m not your responsibility or your duty or your way to not be bored. We aren’t even friends. So take your overbearing, obnoxious meddling and shove it up your arrogant ass.”

I disconnected, feeling pleased with my choice of words and the satisfaction of having told him exactly what I thought.

As I headed home in my mom’s car (since mine was still in the shop), I started to give the message a postmortem, something I had a bad habit of. Maybe I should have waited until I wasn’t as angry so he wouldn’t know he’d gotten to me the way he had. Maybe I should have just ignored him and proven he didn’t mean anything to me. Maybe I should have…

On and on it went as I grabbed a quick bite, drove home, and then got a ride with a friend to the rec center for my kickboxing class.

I’d been going to kickboxing for over a year now, and I always enjoyed it, but today I found it more therapeutic than normal.

In a very hard workout, I vented my frustration and exasperation with one egotistical, interfering, and infuriating ex-Marine. I was exhausted afterward but felt much better. Like I might even be able to have a civil conversation with Levi if our paths happened to cross again, which hopefully wouldn’t happen.

On my way out of the building with Maria, the friend who’d given me a ride, I glanced down at my phone, on the off-chance that Levi had tried to call back.

I wasn’t sure what he would have said if he called. I couldn’t imagine him meekly saying he was sorry for his bad behavior.

I couldn’t imagine him being meek—in any circumstance, ever.

“Oh my God, that guy is hot,” Maria murmured excitedly, grabbing my arm as we walked down the four steps from the front entrance of the rec center.

This wasn’t unusual behavior for Maria. She found guys hot all the time and was never loath to share her feelings with me.

I glanced over with only half-hearted interest and immediately stiffened when my eyes landed on a tall, well-built man with dark hair and worn jeans, who was listening to something on his phone and leaning against a car in the parking lot.

My car. The one I thought was still in the shop.

Levi. Naturally.

“Oh my God,” Maria said, her hand still gripping my arm. “He’s smiling at you. Do you know him?”

“Yes, I know him,” I gritted out through my teeth. He was indeed smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly, welcoming smile.

It was a superior smile of amusement, as if he was laughing at me.

I’d seen that look on his face before. I’d seen it for years and years, when we’d been growing up and he was hanging out with Gavin. My brother used to get annoyed when I pestered them, but Levi had always just laughed.

When I was ten, Gavin and Levi were going to the county fair one Saturday, and I nagged my mother until she finally agreed that I could go with them. Gavin had been in a real snit about it since he didn’t want me tagging along, but Levi hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d laughed at my excitement—not in a mean way—and he’d cheered me on when I’d done well at the games. He’d won a huge stuffed dog because he was so good at the balloon and dart game, and he’d given it to me.

He’d acted like it was no big deal, saying he didn’t want a stupid stuffed animal. He’d laughed when I was touched and thrilled by the stuffed dog.

Nothing had changed. I might be an adult, a professional, and completely his equal, but he was still laughing at me.

I took a shaky breath and tried to control the wave of anger.

“Is that your car?” Maria asked.

“Yeah. He must have gotten it from the shop.”

“Ooh! Why didn’t you tell me there was a guy in your life?” Maria looked like she might jump up and down with excitement over news of potential romance for me.

“He’s not in—”

“No, don’t try to hide it. I can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s crazy about you. Plus he got your car for you! You go on over, but you better call me first thing tomorrow and tell me all about him.”

I groaned and tried to object again, but she skittered off before I could. Rolling my eyes, I made my way over to Levi, who was still half smiling with that superior amusement I hated.

“Did you just tell me to take my overbearing, obnoxious meddling and shove it up my arrogant ass?” he asked, lowering the phone from his ear.

For no reason—for absolutely no good reason—I felt the urge to snicker, partly at his expression and partly at the way he’d repeated my words back to me in that dry tone. Snickering would hardly be an appropriate response though, so I gave him what I hoped was a cool look of disinterest. “You should check your messages more frequently. I left that over two hours ago.”

His smile broadened into a grin, making him so attractive that I lost my breath. Seriously. I literally lost my breath, gazing up at him and his warm expression and his gorgeous dark eyes.

He said, “If you found out I mentioned it to Randy, then you must have been at the police station too. So you do think there’s cause to worry?”

“I don’t really think there’s cause to worry. I just want to cover all the bases. But that’s my responsibility. Not yours.”

“Understood.” He was still smiling, and he didn’t look like he understood at all. “I got your car.”

“I see that. That’s another thing that was none of your business. How did they even let you take it? I haven’t paid yet.”

“I said you’d be coming by to pay sometime tomorrow. They gave you a really good deal. Rick is a buddy of mine.”

Snapping his head off was probably not an appropriate response to his getting me a good price on the new tires, but it was exactly what I wanted to do. I took a shaky breath and managed not to lash out.

I glanced around the parking lot for his truck and didn’t see it. “So you drove my car over here? How did you expect to get home?”

“I figured you could drop me off. I’m on the way.”

I smothered a groan and nodded toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”

He handed me the keys, and we got in the car. I had to admit it was nice to have my car back although I would have preferred to enjoy it without Levi’s presence.

I managed to ask him, fairly politely, where he lived and then backed out of the parking place without saying anything rude.

We rode in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was trying very hard not to scream at him.

“How did you even know where I was?” I finally asked, starting up when a light turned green.

“I called your folks, and they told me. So you do kickboxing?”

“Yes, I do kickboxing.”

“How long have you done that?”

“Over a year now.”

“Are you any good?”

I could hear the smile in his voice, and it made me mad. “I’m pretty good, for my level. What exactly are you laughing at?”

“I’m not laughing.” His eyes were wide with ostensible innocence when I turned to glare at him.

“You’re secretly laughing at me. You’ve always done that.”

“What’s wrong with you making me laugh?”

“Because you’re laughing at me, as if I’m a pet or a child. I’m neither of those things, and I really don’t appreciate your acting like I am.”

He sighed and said in a different voice. “I know you’re not a pet or a child.”

I turned my head again to check his expression since he’d sounded so different. “So why do you feel compelled to control me?”

“I don’t want to control you. I just want you to be safe.”

“Keeping me safe is not your responsibility. I’m not your duty, Levi. I can take care of myself.” We’d reached his apartment building, and I pulled the car into a convenient parking space.

“With your kickboxing?”

“I meant by being an adult who can handle herself, but I might be better at kickboxing than you think.”

He was grinning again as he opened the passenger side door. “So show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Kickboxing. Show me what you’ve got.”

“I’m not a circus performer for your entertainment.”

“I’m not looking to be entertained. If you want me not to worry about you, then show me you can protect yourself. Show me what you’ve got.”

“I’m not going to do kickboxing moves in the middle of a parking lot.”

“Why not? No one is around.”

With a groan, I got out of the car, feeling yet again the need to prove myself to this man who insisted I shouldn’t be taken seriously.

He walked around the car so he was standing a couple of feet away from me. “So someone comes at you. What do you do?”

I moved automatically into my stance as he made a move toward me. I fired off a quick jab, aiming upward, right toward his face. I pulled the punch before it hit, but I would have gotten a really good blow in if I hadn’t.

He looked surprised and pleased. “Good,” he said, sounding sincere for once. “What else?”

He made another move toward me, and I aimed a hook. He blocked it easily, but I followed it quickly with an undercut, which might have done some damage. “Nice,” he murmured, the expression in his eyes changing. Instead of laughter there was something else.

It wasn’t respect. But it was warm. Very warm. It was hot.

It made my cheeks flush, so I covered it by another jab, which he blocked without really trying.

The easy way he blocked it riled me up, so I twisted to throw out a side kick.

It obviously took him by surprise, and he grabbed at my leg with what was probably an automatic reflex. It threw me off balance though. He released my leg immediately, but I still ended up in a heap on the ground.

“Damn it,” I grumbled, trying to assess my condition after recovering from the shock of the fall. I was fine, only my hands were scratched up from catching myself on the pavement.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning down to help me up. “I’m really sorry. Are you all right?”

He looked genuinely contrite, but it was probably from his old-fashioned sense of chivalry where you treat women like they were made of glass or cotton candy.

I wasn’t made of glass or cotton candy, and I could handle a little fall without making a fuss. “I’m fine,” I said, pulling away from his hands. “I’m fine.”

“Damn it, I’m really sorry. I was surprised and wasn’t thinking. I never would have—”

“I know. You’d never hurt a girl.” I looked down at my hands and saw they were bleeding a little. “I’m not hurt.”

“You’re bleeding. At least come inside and clean up some.”

I started to say “no” since I wanted to get away from him as soon as possible, but it would be a real pain to try to drive home with bleeding hands. “All right. Thanks.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said again as we walked into his building. He put his hand on my back in a protective gesture or maybe just to turn me toward the right hall.

“You didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean a little fall is going to break me. Don’t treat me like I’m delicate. I’m not delicate.” I sounded a little snippy, but I was flustered and disoriented. I was also trying not to like the feel of his hand on my back.

“I don’t think you’re delicate,” he said, unlocking his apartment door. “You were always that way. Looking like a pretty little flower but actually as tough as nails.”

I stared at him in surprise since I never would have dreamed he’d think something so nice about me.

“What?” he asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“You never thought that about me,” I said at last, trying to read something in his expression. “You never thought I was anything but an annoying pest with a loud mouth who you sometimes laughed at.”

He’d led me over to the kitchen sink, and he grabbed and wetted a couple of paper towels. “You were annoying sometimes.” His tone was different now. Warm. Almost fond. “You never left me and Gavin alone. You always had to tag along or interrupt our game or join in our conversations. And you always did have the loudest voice I’d ever heard on such a little thing.” Very gently he started to wipe the blood off the palms of my hands.

I’d been softening from his tone and his careful touch, but I stiffened again when I processed his words and jerked my hands away. “That’s what I thought. And that’s still how you’re treating me. And you don’t seem to realize that, while it might be okay to think of a little girl that way, it’s incredibly patronizing to treat a grown woman that way.”

He took my hands back so he could finish cleaning them up. Then he raised his eyes, and they took on that hot, breathless look again. “I know you’re a grown woman, Harper. I’m not likely to miss that fact.”

My breath quickened, and I couldn’t seem to pull my hands out of his grip. “Well, maybe you should act like you know,” I managed to say, not terribly lucidly.

One of his hands lifted to my face, and he cupped my cheek. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were the hottest things I’d ever seen. My whole body was overwhelmed with a rush of excitement and feeling. “And how do you think I should treat you like a woman?”

There was one obvious thing that came to my mind. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything else. I felt myself swaying toward him, and he seemed to be leaning down toward me, and I wanted to kiss him so badly I couldn’t see straight.

Then he shifted my hand slightly, causing a sting of pain from the cuts, and that brought me back to my senses. I stepped backward at almost exactly the same time that Levi stepped backward too.

I dropped my head and pretended to be drying off my hands with a paper towel as I tried to pull myself together.

Giving in to an attraction for Levi would be a huge mistake, and I wasn’t going to be that stupid. I just wasn’t.

Trying to get back to casual conversation, I glanced around the kitchen. “Did you just move in?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boxes.” I nodded toward a few open boxes in the corner. “And you don’t have anything hung up on the walls or anything. How long have you lived here?”

“A month or so. Since I got back.”

“What? Why haven’t you finished unpacking and setting the place up? It hardly looks like anyone lives here.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care about that kind of thing. I just pull things out as I need them.”

“But don’t you want to make the place comfortable?”

“I’ve got a chair and the TV. Works for me.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Then I walked into the living area and saw that he did have one photo. It was lying flat, but I went over to pick it up.

It was a picture of Levi, Gavin, and three of their friends—the three who I’d met at Gavin’s funeral. It was a casual snapshot, and they were just joking around, but they all looked happy. Close. Alive.

My eyes rested for a long time on my brother’s smiling face. He wasn’t alive anymore.

I put the picture down quickly when I started to tear up. I didn’t want to cry in front of Levi. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness in front of him.

When I dared to look up at his face, I saw his expression had sobered. For a moment there was something lost, poignant, aching in his expression, before it disappeared.

“He loved you more than anything,” Levi said quietly, after a moment.

I swallowed hard and looked away, trying to control the emotion. “He was always bossing me around, even after we grew up.”

“Because he loved you. If he were here, he’d want to take care of you and make sure you were safe. Since he’s not, I’m going to do it instead.”

I understood more than ever what was motivating Levi. It wasn’t that he was amusing himself by interfering in my business. It was that he felt like he needed to do it for Gavin—out of guilt or obligation. Duty.

Either way, I didn’t like it since it took away my self-sufficiency.

“It’s not your job,” I said, quickly wiping away a stray tear.

“Then whose job is it?”

“It’s my job. I take care of myself.”

“If someone is really threatening you, then you’ll need help. Even the strongest person can’t stop a bullet.”

“Don’t be melodramatic. There’s some petty, spiteful person who doesn’t like what I’m saying, but that doesn’t equal a threat on my life. If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”

“But that’s the thing.” For the first time, Levi actually looked angry. “You won’t ask for help. You’re so determined to show the world you aren’t delicate that you won’t take help when you actually need it. Remember the bees?”

I gasped in outrage at being reminded of that horrible day at age twelve—when I’d been stung multiple times and then had to make it home on my own feet so Levi and Gavin couldn’t be proved right in saying that they needed to carry me. “Just because you think I need help doesn’t mean I actually do. I got home just fine that day, and I can handle this situation right now fine too. You don’t get to impose your help on me just because you get it in your head you want to be a hero.”

“For Christ’s sake, Harper,” he snapped. “Why are you always so stubborn? I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m worried about you.”

“Well, stop worrying.”

“I can’t stop. I can’t stop worrying about you.”

“Then keep your worrying to yourself. I don’t know where you get the nerve to come into my life and make assumptions and judgments about me, as if you have it all together. I mean, look at you. Is your life really so together that you can look down on mine? You cut yourself off from everyone so you can stand on your mountain and look down at us. But is that really living? Not getting involved in anything that matters? Laughing at me because I really care about things and want to get other people to care about things too? What was the last thing you really cared about, other than being a Marine? What do you have left now that it’s gone? I mean, you don’t even live in this apartment. You haven’t done a thing to make it into a home. You don’t have friends here. You don’t give back or do any sort of volunteer work. You don’t even have a damned dog. And you think something is wrong with the way I’m behaving.”

He was angrier than ever. I could see it on his face. But he pulled it in, suppressed it, so it only showed in the tightness of his jaw and the blaze of his eyes.

Ridiculously, I was still attracted to him. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, press myself against him.

And also wring his neck.

With a frustrated sound in my throat, I swung around, grabbed my keys, and hurried to the door before he could say anything in response.

Being around Levi was obviously very bad for my mental health, so I’d have to do better about staying away from him from now on.