Page 43 of Relentless

Despite her efforts, she felt herself losing the battle. Her breathing quickened, and her lungs struggled to fill.

At what she deemed the worst possible time, there came a sharp knock on her door. Harper pulled her hand over her mouth, hoping to stifle her loud gasps for air.

“Harp,” Maeve’s muffled voice came through the door. “I’m just checking on you.”

“Go away,” she croaked.

“I’ve got an ice pack,” Maeve persisted. “And you know I brought coffee.”

She groaned. Clutching her pillow, she turned away toward the window. “It’s your house.”

The doorknob clicked open, and she heard Maeve’s soft footsteps. “I’m going to put the ice pack here on the nightstand, next to your coffee,” she began. “We keep these on hand around here for a reason,” she explained, filling the awkward silence with a hint of levity. “You’re certainly not the first to hit the ice — just ask Oakleigh.”

Maeve was obviously trying to lighten the mood despite knowing it would be a futile attempt.

“Leave me alone,” Harper whispered.

“As long as you’re here,” Maeve replied. “You’re not going to be alone,”

Harper scoffed callously. “Another one of your house rules, I suppose?”

“Actually,” Maeve clarified with a dash of pride in her eye, “Oakleigh insisted on that one — and boy, is she stubborn about it.” She quietly stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Harper was finally alone. She lifted her stiff, painful body onto her elbows and wrenched open the drawer of her nightstand in a frantic search for her pain medication.

No.

It was too easy to pop a pill, and she was convinced she was stronger than that.

She nabbed the ice pack. Stuffing it under her lower back, she collapsed on her pillow. She reached for the coffee, brought it to her lips, and took a swig of the rich black brew.

“Dang it,” she exhaled. “That’s good.” Having nothing to dull the onslaught of painful memories, she opted to shut her eyes.

It certainly wasn’t the first time Maeve had brought her an ice pack and a few comforting words.

Maeve was no idiot.

Even if her sister never let on, Harper knew she remembered every gristly detail of the night that changed it all.

Chapter 13

Trouble

Harper

Harper Underwood crumpled to the ground, shielding herself from the metal buckle flinging through the air. Feeling the sharp brass connect across the bare skin of her lower back, she couldn’t help but recall how Susan, the annoyingly emphatic wife of their church youth pastor, had scolded her about the modesty of wearing longer clothing.

Maybe that old shrew had a point.

Despite Harper’s father being a man of small stature, he held a formidable presence. She seemed to always bear the brunt of his fiery temper — and it hurt.

He always made sure of that.

“Harris,” her mother pleaded, daring to grab his arm.

What was worse than the purple welts rising to the surface, were her father’s words that trailed after her as she took her opportunity to escape up the stairs.

“She’s good for nothing, Vera!” he strained with the rage he only unleashed in the privacy of his home. “If we don’t take the strong will out of that girl,” Harris shrilled, “she’s going to ruin everything for us.”

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