Page 2 of Darkhan

Anxiety twisted in Harmony’s stomach as she stood and stepped away from the desk obligingly. She brushed a wayward strand of dusty blonde out of her face and frowned at her mother. “Company?”Shecertainly didn’t have the kind of friends who would just drop by. As far as she knew, neither did her parents.

Linda made a shooing motion at her. “Don’t dawdle, sweetheart. Splash some water on your face so you don’t look like you’ve been staring at a screen all afternoon.”

The agitation returned in a huff and Harmony twisted away to stomp from the room.All afternoon? Has she lost it?Ninety minutes hardly counted as an entire afternoon. She was never going to find a job if she couldn’t get some real time on the freaking computer.

“Harmony!” her father shouted from the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t stomp! It’s unladylike.”

She let herself roll her eyes since neither of her parents could see her. Why did she care if stomping was unattractive in a woman? Everything she did was unattractive, apparently, up to and including the way she brushed her hair and the way she ate. She was pretty sure her mother meant the fact that she ate in the presence of others at all, but that wasn’t what she’d said.

Her parents controlled every aspect of her life to an unreasonable degree. As a child, Harmony hadn’t realized it was strange. She’d been homeschooled in her early years, until the economy and some poor financial choices had forced her mother to get a more traditional job. The strictness had increased when she’d started attending public schools. As the world opened up—the rapid spread of cell phones, and of course the surge of social media—Harmony found herself more locked down.

Sure, she had a cell phone, currently locked in a drawer in her mother’s desk, because she was only allowed to have it when she was home alone or when she needed to leave the house without them. But it was limited. They’d even found a way to restrict text messages. She had no online presence at all. It hadn’t been until one of her on-campus college days—in itself a veritable crime she continued to await punishment for with nervous anticipation—when she’d finally learned what Facebook looked like. She still didn’t understand the concept too well.

She was a twenty-four-year-old woman in the modern age on paper only. She’d failed to escape when she’d turned eighteen, because at the time she had thought merely leaving the house and their shitty neighborhood was enough. She’d made the mistake of thinking her parents would let her be free. That hadn’t even lasted a year.

Harmony frowned at the pretty dress laid out on her bed.Freshen up, huh?This was more than splashing a little water on her face. There wasn’t anything wrong with her comfortable jeans and the respectable, plain shirt she’d put on that morning. After all, the most choice she had on her wardrobe was which day to wear which piece of clothing she hadn’t purchased for herself. That was usually the case anyway. Apparently, their expected guest was someone her mother wanted to impress, because this was not a casual around-the-house dress.

For a moment, Harmony was tempted to ignore it. But she knew how that would go, and she was taking enough of a risk just searching for a job behind their backs. She would inevitably catch hell when it all came out, but if she was lucky, she’d have some cash tucked away by then. In the meantime, she needed to not pick unnecessary fights. So she stripped out of her casual and arguably boring clothes, found a bra that would look a little less conspicuous with the dress strappings, and set to work squeezing herself into everything.

She was still standing in front of her bathroom mirror, smoothing out wrinkles and double-checking that she’d attached the right straps to the right hooks, when her mother hollered down the hall. Their guest had arrived. Her stomach rolled.

The dress was uncharacteristically alluring for something her parents might choose. It wasn’t scandalous, per se, but it wasn’t neck-to-ankles modest either. She liked it, objectively, but she was quickly becoming concerned over what it meant. Loose, breezy short sleeves disguised her thicker upper arms. Lace between straps teased actual bare skin over her sides, so much so that she’d had to change panties, too. The collar was low and flirty, enough to show just a bit of the swell of her breasts and the top of her cleavage. And while the skirt itself hung past her knees, most of the dress was tight. Fitted. Her boobs were practically pushed out and somehow her belly looked flatter than usual, while her hips seemed wider.

Honestly, the more she looked at her reflection, the more she questioned whether her parents had actually laid it out for her. It might have been easier to believe someone had snuck in and left it as a trap.

“Harmony Lace, what is taking you so long?” her mother demanded, barging into the bathroom without knocking. She came up short and her eyes blew wide as she raked her gaze over Harmony’s figure.

Harmony turned from the mirror and gestured to herself. “Did you really put this out for me? It’s … not like you.” Her mother had never even encouraged her to wear something that qualified as sexy, let alone prompted it.

Linda drew a visible breath and nodded once. Her signature of approval.

Oh, crud. She did.Why did that make it scarier?

“It’s a special occasion,” Linda said, quieter. Something in her eyes was almost wistful. “I’m glad it fits. I was worried.”

Harmony folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry my weight disappoints you.”

Her mother gave a shake of her head and turned from the room. “Let’s go. We’re making him wait.”

The breath rushed from Harmony’s lungs. “Him?”What the hell is going on?

“Now, Harmony,” her mother said, putting the warning snap in her tone that always got a response.

Harmony jolted into motion even as her nerves amped up. Her mother had dressed her up to meet a special guest, who was a male she also refused to identify. That did not bode well at all. She wanted to spin on her heel and run the other way, but the other way would only trap her. If she wanted out, she had to continue forward. One way or another.

“So sorry to keep you waiting!” Linda called as they neared the end of the hall. Her voice had switched flawlessly to the fake warm, overly saccharine tone she used when she was sucking up.

Harmony’s nerves intensified and she swallowed hard. There weren’t a lot of people her mother sucked up to. Her feet slowed, but she was still close enough to hear the voice she didn’t want to hear.

Patrick Eades, who preferred to go by Ricky, said smoothly, “It’ll be more than worth it, if you brought what you’ve promised.”

Chills broke out over her skin and the room spun even as Harmony found herself standing at the edge of the sitting space, the hall suddenly behind her.What did he just say?

Ricky’s permanently leering brown eyes locked on her and his lips lifted in an expression that made her want to hurl. “Well. Not only did you follow through, but it seems you’ve even wrapped her up for me.” He held out a hand. “Come closer, Harmony. Let me drink you in.”

Finally, her feet had stopped moving, locking her in place. Harmony felt as though she could barely breathe. “Wh-what…?”

Her father sidestepped up to her and pressed the tips of his faintly shaking fingers to her back. “Come on, now, Harmony. Let’s not keep Mr. Eades waiting.”

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