Page 111 of The Painter and His Poet

“At Dalton and Daisy's wedding reception Councillor Hoxton said something that made me think it could be him.”

“Councillor Hoxton?” Sterling questions, his expression hardening. “What exactly did he say?”

“He mentioned that the song he walked down the aisle to was Songbird,” I explain.

“Yes, I remember, why would that make you think it’s him who’s been sending you these messages?”

I chew on my lip, knowing that it’s dangerous to accuse someone with no actual proof. “It could’ve been a coincidence, and if he didn’t make me feel so uncomfortable I wouldn’t even have considered it a possibility.”

“Why did him mentioning that song trigger you, Harlow?” he presses.

“Let me show you,” I say, climbing off the bed so I can grab my phone. Picking it up, I return to Sterling, clicking open the app and going to the messages. I scroll through them, finding the one where he calls me his sweet songbird.

“That motherfucker!” Sterling exclaims, taking the phone from me as he reads that particular message, before scrolling back to the beginning. I wait quietly, watching his expression change as he reads. By the time he’s finished, his gaze is simmering with rage.

“Sterling, what should I do?”

“You’re not going to do a damn thing. I’m, however, going to confront the bastard,” he growls.

“I have no proof, Sterling. I don’t want you accusing someone when it might not be them.”

“I will not sit back and let him send you these twisted messages. I will not let him threaten you?—”

“I’ll go to the police,” I interject.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said, no, Harlow. All they’ll do is give you a crime number, then file this away. At best they’ll get his account shut down. That won’t resolve the fact that he’s out there just waiting to hurt you. Not to mention that even if you were lucky enough to get arestraining order on him, which is highly unlikely given we don’t have any proof that it’s him, he’d still be able to hurt you. That bastard has friends in high places.”

“Including your father,” I whisper.

“Yes, including him,” Sterling retorts, scowling. “Does my father know about this? Does your mother?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I haven’t told anyone but you.”

“Good, because telling either of them isn’t an option. I don’t trust my father not to use this against us both somehow, and I sure as fuck don’t think your mother would help. I will sort this out.Me.”

“I don’t want you to put yourself in a difficult position, Sterling. If you accuse Councillor Hoxton and he’s not the one sending these messages, he’ll just tell Robert. Not only will that create more problems with your father, but it will also raise questions about us.”

“I can’t sit back and do nothing, Harlow. I won’t,” he replies, dropping the phone to the bed and tugging me onto his lap. I go to him willingly, needing him more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life. “It’s already too fucking hard not to be able to call you mine officially, and now I have to contend with someone threatening the woman I love. No, I won’t do it.”

“Love?” I whisper.

“Yes. I love you, Harlow,” he says emphatically, as my heart trips up inside my chest. “Even if I still have to hide how I feel from everyone else–for now,” he adds vehemently, “I refuse to hide that from you. I love you. I need you to know that. I’m not expecting you to say it back?—”

“Sterling,” I cut him off but he continues to speak.

“I just want you to know that I’m in love with you. I’m so fucking in love with you that I’m ready to shout it to the world and fuck the consequences. Not only that, I’m ready to batter down that prick’s door, reach my fist down is throat and rip hisdick out of his body from the inside out for even daring to scare you?—”

“Sterling, listen to me,” I demand, adjusting myself on his lap so that I’m straddling his thighs with my own. “Firstly, you’re not going to do anything rash. We’ll figure out how to handle this together. Secondly, and most importantly, I’m in love with you too.”

“What?” Sterling asks, his eyes widening a fraction at my confession.

“I love you.”

He grins, his anger momentarily forgotten. “Say it again.”

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