Page 30 of The Passion

“Before you do that, I want you to get one of the staff’s cars that aren’t linked to her. The older the better. Get her into the back seat, lay her down, and cover her with a blanket. Get someone you trust to drive her to my building, and I will give you the code to the underground parking. Tell her not to move from out of that blanket until the driver tells her. I will be waiting underground for her to arrive. But Harper…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell her you are sending her to me. Just tell her you are taking her somewhere she will be safe.”

I know this is risky, for so many reasons. She could be seen leaving and be followed here, her stubborn ass might protest and won’t agree to get into the car, or worse still, she has pictures taken of her in this state and that will just fuel the gossip sites with more ammunition to keep driving the story. But I need to get to her, and by the sounds of it, she needs to get out of her apartment right now, so I’ll do anything to make that happen.

Even if it’s the exact opposite to what I have been told to do by my own team.

I know it will take time to get all this happening, but I can’t stand still.

I’m rambling to myself as I pace my apartment, with so many thoughts running through my head.

What did that old bastard do to her? I swear I will bury him.

Felisha is the strongest woman I know, and for her to be attacking me like a viper one minute over text message and then hours later, she is totally broken by her father.

I can’t even imagine what was said today, after hearing the way he spoke to her the day the first email arrived. I didn’t think it could have gotten any worse, but I was obviously wrong.

The phone in my hand finally buzzes from an unknown number.

Unknown: I’ve left with four cars and numerous bikes following my car, and the package has also left for delivery.

It’s Harper!

Flynn: Thank you

I move to the elevator without hesitation, wanting to be down there waiting before she arrives. My building is the same, a horde of photographers camped outside, but they won’t look twice at this car. They will only be looking for my cars or Felisha’s Mercedes that is currently doing laps of the city and then heading out toward Felisha’s mother’s country house.

The moment the old Ford comes into view as the door for the garage is lifting, I know this is her.

Pulling up in front of me, I open the door to find an old crocheted blue-and-cream-colored blanket covering the shape of a body that is lifeless on the seat.

“Thank you for your discretion,” is all I can say to the older woman at the wheel of the car.

“I am her housekeeper and have been for twenty years. She is a good woman and doesn’t deserve this.” Tears are in her eyes, and I can tell that she is on team Felisha, and I don’t have to worry about this going any further than the three people who are here.

“I promise to take care of her.” The woman gives me a nod, and I slowly pull back the blanket to find Felisha curled so tightly on the seat that she is shivering slightly with emotion.

“I’ve got you.” I gently pull her legs toward me so I can reach in and sit her up a little. Her body is so rigid that I have to pull her with a bit of force to get her close enough to the door to take her in my arms.

She still hasn’t looked up at all, and no words have left her lips.

I stand her for the split second I need to steady myself, and then I lift her into my arms, one under her knees and the other around her back, pulling her tight against my body. She is dressed like the night she turned up here with the strawberries, casual and a hoodie over her head. I’m starting to understand it’s how she hides from the world.

Her head falls onto my shoulder, and finally, she lifts her arms around my neck to hold on. Using my backside, I push the car door closed, and the sound of the engine picks up as the car starts moving again. I rush to get the door of the elevator open to make sure no one can see me as the garage door opens again.

The silence of the ride up to my apartment is only broken by the faintest sniffle every few seconds. The loud sobbing that I heard over the phone is gone, but now all I have is a lifeless woman who has nothing left to give.

I’ve been known to do some dumb things in my life, and this is probably going to be at the top of the list, but I don’t care.

Knowing that Felisha is completely numb, and her body is to the point she has just shut down from emotional overload, I take her to my bedroom, half expecting her to start yelling at me, but instead, she is still quiet.

Settling her on the edge of my bed, with Sassy hissing at me because she has been disturbed from her slumber, I grab the stupid cat and shoo her off my bed. I can tell she is confused because there is another human in here, and thankfully, she leaves the room because it all looks too hard for her to fight me on it right now.

Kicking off my shoes, I strip down to my boxers, and still Felisha hasn’t batted an eyelid or opened her mouth to speak.

“Trust me,” I whisper to her as I start to undress her down to her underwear. There is no fight from her, and it frightens me.

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