Page 28 of Exes and Oh Hell No

But if she knew Harper was in danger, she’d be the one loading the shotgun.

My headlights cut through the night as I pull into her driveway like a bat out of hell.

I barely throw the vehicle into park before I’m out, moving toward her door in three long strides.

Before I can knock, the door flies open.

Harper stumbles forward, straight into my arms.

Her phone clatters to the floor.

I drop my own, my hands going around her instinctively, securing her against me.

I crush her to my chest like a fucking python. Like I can squeeze out all the fear, the pain, and the trembling.

Like I can keep her safe just byholding on tighter.

She shudders against me, fists clutching my shirt like I’m the only thing keeping her standing.

“It was so scary,” her voice is muffled against my chest.

I squeeze her once more, dragging in a breath before forcing myself to loosen my hold.

“Let’s get inside,” I murmur.

She nods, running a shaky hand through her hair as she steps back.

A glint of crimson catches my eye.

Blood.

I latch onto her wrist. “Harper. What the fuck?”

Her eyes widen. “I-It’s n-nothing,” she stammers as if that will stop me.

Wrong move, sweetheart.

I grab her hand, turn it over, and examine the small but deep cut. “I cut myself on the glass when I grabbed my phone,” she says, nodding toward the stairs.

My jaw clenches. “They threw it through your bedroom window?”

She nods, her lip quivering.

Fuck. I hate when Harper’s upset.

“Show me,” I demand.

I follow her up the stairs, every muscle in my body coiled tightly, ready to snap.

She steps inside her bedroom, folding her arms over her chest.

I step in behind her, scanning the room.

Broken glass is everywhere, the shards glinting on her nightstand and floor.

A cold breeze drifts through the shattered window, sending goosebumps over my arms.

And then my eyes land on the rock.

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