Page 21 of Hide and Seek
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she cries, sounding more than rattled. “I’ve been at work, and . . . I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to call you, but you said I had to call and—”
My blood runs cold as I make my way out to my truck, realizing that in the past thirty seconds it’s started to rain. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
“No. No, no,” she rushes out, taking a shaky breath as I hear the familiar sound of her windshield wipers in the background. “I’m in my car. I’m just . . . Something really messed up happened at work. I don’t . . . I don’t know if I can be alone.”
I pause in my driveway, my hand hovering in front of the truck door, rain immediately beginning to soak through my clothes. “Is this the same shit you were telling me about last night?”
“Yeah,” she says in a small voice.
“Are you safe?”
There’s a short pause, and I can almost imagine her checking her rearview mirrors and making sure she’s not being followed. “I’m not sure. I think so.”
“I’ve just gotten home from work. Come to me. You can stay here and then we can figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“Are you sure?” Harper questions. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re never an imposition, Morticia,” I tell her, my voice softening at the idea of getting to see her. “You can stay here as long as you need. Do you know where I live?”
“Uhhhh . . . yeah. I think so,” she says. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Okay. Drive safe, and keep an eye on your mirrors. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The line goes dead, and I find myself waiting outside my home, leaning against the pillar of my entryway that offers just a bit of shelter from the rain, all while keeping my eye on the road, anxious for Harper to get here.
The minutes tick by slowly, and I resist the urge to get in my truck and start searching for her. If she hadn’t said that she was safe in her car, then I’d already be flying toward her.
I put the front porch lights on so she knows which home is mine, and barely a minute later, her headlights crest over the hillin the distance, the light distorted by the rain. Then despite still being a good distance down the road, I push off the pillar and step out into the downpour.
Her speed slows as she approaches my driveway, and the moment I can make out her face through the windshield of her old Honda Civic, something eases in my chest. She pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine as I make my way down the driveway toward her car.
The rain is heavy against the windows, making it too hard to make out the more subtle features of her face, but I see her clearly enough to know her eyes are on me. I canfeelit.
Striding up to the driver’s door, I open it for her, and the way her gaze lifts to meet mine through the darkness—those big green trusting eyes—is crippling. She’s looking at me as though I’m her fucking savior, and as much as I want to swoop in and save the day, I can’t be that for her.
It’s too dangerous. I can’t allow myself to get too close, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to leave her to fend for herself. As soon as I figure out who the fuck has been tormenting her at work and put a fucking stop to it, I’ll have no choice but to force distance between us again.
She’s off limits. My step-niece. I shouldn’t crave her like this.
Her gaze wavers, and when she lets out a shaky breath, I realize that whatever happened at work still has her rattled. “Come on, Morticia,” I say, offering her my hand. “Come inside and tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Harper visibly swallows before gently placing her small hand in mine and allowing me to help her out of the car. Her skin is blazing against mine, sending shock waves through my body, and for a fleeting second, I panic that she can sense the kind of effect she has over me, but she’s far too shaken to see what’s right in front of her face.
I do what I can not to hold her hand for too long, and after she clambers out of her car, I take her bag, close the door behind her, and then watch as she rushes through the rain.
“Fuck. It’s cold,” she mutters, darting through the puddles pooling on my driveway.
It’s a short dash to my front door, and by the time she reaches it, she looks like a cold drowned rat with her arms crossed over her chest, silently shivering. Goosebumps spread across her skin, and my selfish stare lingers way too long, knowing just how quickly I could warm her up.
Goddamn it. What I wouldn’t give to fuck the goosebumps out of her system.
Harper doesn’t barge into my house, just simply waits for me to open the door and welcome her in. I don’t know why I expected—hoped—for anything different. I want her to be comfortable enough to stride through the door like she owns the place, but in reality, she’s never been here before. She shouldn’t feel comfortable, and I shouldn’t want her to.
Off. Fucking. Limits.
After opening the door, I wave her through, and as she hurries past me, her perfume hits my senses. I breathe her in, immediately intoxicated by her scent.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, and I call on every ounce of self-control not to slam this door for the sole purpose of throwing her up against it and claiming every single fucking inch of her. Instead, I close the door like a normal fucking human being and follow her into my home.
