Nick is calling me.
Carefully, I untangle myself from her and slide out of bed. She grumbles, and I pause, brushing my lips over her forehead.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
Her brow smooths again as she slips back into sleep.
I tug on a pair of boxers and step into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind me before answering.
“Calloway,” I say.
There’s a brief pause before he responds, voice unusually tense. “Brody. Sorry to interrupt your … break, but we’ve got a major problem.”
Tension stretches across my shoulders, and I straighten as I move into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “Explain.”
“Micah Rhodes.” The name lands heavy, and Nick’s voice is tight with frustration. “Billie’s post didn’t exactly have the effect we’d hoped. The public’s torn. Last night, there was a shitstorm of posts, mostly lies, as Micah crashed out. A lot of them think Micah’s the victim. He went live on Instagram, hysterical, threatening legal action against Bellamore. And now they’ve got paparazzi swarming headquarters and digging around, trying to find Harper.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“That’s not all,” he says. “There was a picture of you two that was shared. You were kissing in the rain. Like, real fucking romantic, Brod, but not the look Harp needed, and people are trying to figure out your location.”
I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Micah is furious. Commenters have stated different places where they think you are.” Nick hesitates briefly, concern clear in his voice. “He also released a statement this morning, accusing Harper of cheating while pregnant and painting himself as the wounded fiancé. After that pic got leaked, it’s working. Relationship scandals are a PR nightmare. Oh, there is one more rumor, that the baby is actually yours.”
My jaw clenches as a sudden wave of anger boils beneath my skin. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“No, you’re not.” Nick’s voice softens slightly, a rare moment of emotion breaking through. “Billie and Asher are working overtime to do damage control. But you both need to be ready to leave soon. It will get worse before it gets better.”
I close my eyes as I lean against the counter, and Harper’s peaceful face flashes through my mind.
“I won’t let him hurt her,” I tell him.
He releases a relieved breath, as though those words were exactly what he needed to hear. “I know you won’t. And we’re here too—Zane, Asher, Easton, Weston—all of us. But watch your back, Brody. Rhodes doesn’t play fair.”
“Neither do I,” I confirm with more gruffness in my tone than I intended.
“Good.” Nick pauses briefly, and then his tone shifts, becoming cautiously curious. “How’s she doing?”
My chest warms at the memory of Harper tangled in my arms, her sleepy smile, her whispered promises. “She’s good. Better than good.”
“Love to hear it,” he says. “I’m sure Zane already gave you the lecture, but if you fucking hurt my sister?—”
“Stepsister,” I correct him.
“I’ll fuck you up,” he finishes.
“I hope you would.”
He chuckles. “Tell her I’m glad she has you. We all are.”
“I will.” I smile, knowing I have everyone’s support with this relationship, but I’m determined to take things slow.
“Keep me posted,” Nick says finally, tension lingering beneath his tone. “And stay safe.”
I hang up, turning my gaze to the hallway. The weight of this news settles heavily in my chest, and the brief peace of the morning is overshadowed by our harsh reality.
Micah Rhodes is ruthless, dangerous, and desperate, and I know he won’t stop until he finds Harper.