Page 217 of Enemies

Harrison: I doubt that very much. But there is a precedent.

Then he sent me a picture of a teenaged Harrison holding a blond baby wrapped in a blanket.

Rae: Wow. Ash looks… innocent. You look as if you’d fight the world for him.

Harrison: I learned early to take no prisoners. Hesitation leads to weakness. Compassion precedes defeat.

I debated before responding.

Rae: That’s a good way to make enemies. You’ll always be fighting.

Harrison: It’s the only way I know how to live.

That was the tragedy.

He taught me how to fight—for myself, for my dreams, for the love I deserve.

But I want him to lay down his weapons.

Another text appeared before I could respond.

Harrison: I never stopped caring.

My heart kicked. Part of me wanted to believe it was true, not only for his sake but for mine.

I fell asleep soon after but woke still thinking of him.

“Something arrived for you before the interview,” the reporter says slyly, bringing me back. “Would you like to see it?”

I straighten in my seat, surprised.

One of the crew brings out yellow tiger lilies, and I take them, awkwardly shifting to grab the envelope and slide out the card. I read the single phrase written on the white paper.

Take no prisoners.

My body explodes into tingles as if Harrison himself brushed my hair back and whispered the words against my ear.

“You have an admirer. Well, you have lots of them,” the interviewer amends, grinning at the crowd. “This looks like a special one.”

Awareness has the hairs on my neck lifting despite the heat.

Harrison’s watching.

Flowers could be construed as not backing down, but he’d argue they’re just for support.

Too bad him being sweet is as destructive as a full-on assault on my body and my heart.

I tuck the card away. If I say I’m seeing someone, it’ll raise suspicion. But when she goes on, my task gets infinitely harder.

“You were linked to Harrison King last year. First in Ibiza, later in LA. Do you think he sent the flowers?”

I turn over my thoughts, knowing he’s watching. I shouldn’t say anything, but I can’t resist. “He’s a fighter, not a lover.”

“Is that what came between you?”

My smile fades. “A lot of things came between us. But I’m a different person now.”

They think I mean a person who wouldn’t date Harrison. But that’s not it.

---