Page 13 of The Secrets We Share

I find my suitcase unpacked and an outfit laid out on the dresser for me. Some women might find it controlling, especially since it's one of my regular workout sets, but it's one less thing for me to worry about. With everything going on, I'll happily take the assist.

Now dressed and with Cinder whining at the door, we head downstairs and find a very disheveled Stace nursing a cup of coffee. The sound of Cinder's paws against the hardwoods draws Stace's eyes from her phone.

"I didn't think you could still get wasted off a couple bottles of wine," I tease her, opening the back door to let Cinder out and then grabbing my own mug of coffee before joining her at the island.

She slides the creamer my way. Harkin must have had groceries delivered early this morning, and I send my silent thanks that I won't have to endure the bitterness of black coffee.

"Let's just say, it's been a dry few months while you were away—in multiple areas."

I spit the coffee back into my mug and swing in her direction. "Bullshit."

Her eyes tell me there's absolutely no bullshit in her statement.

"Girl, how? What about that guy from the club? You two were all hot when we left?"

She doesn't answer me, hiding behind the curtain of blonde locks flowing loose. Something's up with her. She hasn't been going out. She isn't drinking. My thoughts are cut off by Harkin and James coming in from the backyard, Cinder panting loudly, hot on their heels.

"You're finally up," Harkin states, coming over to me shirtless and dripping with his black ink glistening. He quicklykisses my head before going for the fridge, pulling out two waters and slinging one to James across the island.

I follow the water and take in James's scowling face. His eyes are locked on my best friend in all her hot mess glory. The death glare she throws his way, as if daring him to say a word, screams volumes. She’s is in for a rough morning in more ways than one.

"You worked out without me." I fake pout toward Harkin, drawing everyone's attention to me.

"You were sleeping like the dead, and I've been up for a while. Cinder wouldn't leave your side, so she still needs a run."

I look at the pup slumbering at my feet. She's never out of my sight unless I put her away. The best guard dog, through and through.

"Stacey can go with you," James adds to the conversation.

I look at my best friend, holding in the laugh bubbling up in my chest. "Stacey, running—right." But neither of them seems to find that thought as ridiculous as I do.

Stace puts her mug down and pushes away from the island counter. "Give me fifteen to get ready, and we can go."

If I had my suspicions before, she just verified them. When she leaves the room, James follows close behind, and I wait until they disappear up the stairs before swinging my gaze toward Harkin.

"So, that happened while we were away, huh?"

"Looks like it," he says with a knowing smile.

I pop off the stool and place my mug in the sink before going over to where he's leaning against the fridge. "Are you really going to let us go for a run on our own?" I ask, pushing into him, even with all the sweat drying against his skin.

"I have something for you before you go. Come here."

Reaching for my hand, he pulls me to the office at the back of the house. I follow behind, excited to see what's in store. He drops my hand, stepping behind the desk to open a drawer.What he drops on the desk top resembles something straight from a sci-fi film. I eye it suspiciously, taking in the shiny metal of a long ass needle attached to the front, and inch closer to the open door.

"Now listen, this is for your own good," he placates, watching me with unease growing in his eyes.

"The fuck are you up to, Harkin?"

"I won't lose you again. This guarantees that." He holds up the instrument, and how he does clues me into its use.

"You want to tag me like a fucking animal."

His lips tick to the side, pulling up into a grin he rightfully tries to hide, but he’s not fast enough.

"I get it. The phone's a liability. But you couldn't be normal and get me a necklace tracker?" I pause, but don't give him enough time to weigh in. "No, not you. That'd be basic." I pace back and forth in the office.

This is insane, psychotic, really. Who does this?

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