Page 35 of Hide and Seek
“The fuck?”
“This again?” she demands. “Are you ever going to let me finish a whole sentence before interrupting me? I mean, fuck. You’re the one asking the questions, and still you won’t let me get a word in.”
“Harper,” I warn.
“FUCK!” Harper lets out a heavy breath, and the frustration in her tone is crystal clear, but despite the way she rants at me, it’s clear I’m not the reason for her frustration.
“Start from the beginning, Morticia,” I say in a soothing tone, knowing she’ll give me exactly what I need. “I’m only a few minutes away.”
Harper sniffles, and I listen as she takes a calming breath, but the chattering of her teeth doesn’t dare stop. “Okay, so I was just doing my thing at work when I heard someone trying to get into the morgue. The access card wasn’t working, and he must have tried at least twenty times, but the automatic lock was denying him entry. He was grabbing the handle and rattling the door. It freaked me out, and with no other way out of the morgue, I had no choice but to climb into the refrigeration unit.”
“Shit, Morticia.”
“You’re telling me,” she mutters. “I thought that was it, but then he came back with a new access card, and this one let him in. At first, he was just wandering around, and I kept thinking to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t know where to find me, but then he walked straight over to the refrigeration unit, and as if knowing exactly which one I was in, he twisted the lock and trapped me there.”
“He has been watching you through the cameras.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she says. “It’s almost as though he was locking me in there so he could come back later and—well, I don’t know what he wants with me.”
I drag my hand down my face. I’ve been asking myself the same fucking question ever since she first told me about this asshole. “How’d you get out? Did someone come get you?”
“I wish. My phone was still on my desk, so I couldn’t call for anyone, but I found one of those little aluminum soda tabs in my pocket so I could jimmy one of the locks free. It wasn’t easy though. My fingers were freezing by that point, and now I can’t seem to get warm. And I know I could have just gone home, but—shit. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t be stupid, Morticia. You know you’re always welcome. I’ll get you a key so you don’t have to wait outside next time.”
“That’s not—thanks.”
I turn the corner to my street, and as I see her Honda up ahead, a strange calm pulses through my veins. “I’m just pulling up,” I tell her before ending the call.
I pull into my driveway a second later, and as I do, Harper lifts her head, locking her gaze on mine through my windshield. She looks fucking terrified, something that clearly didn’t come through on my surveillance cameras.
After cutting the engine, I all but bail out of my truck and race across the pavement to get to her. She remains seated on the step leading up to my front porch, and as I get closer, she lifts her chin, following my every movement.
Harper presses her lips into a worrying line. “I’m sorr—”
I reach down and grip her arms, pulling her off the step and straight into my arms, holding her within my warmth. “If the next word out of your mouth is sorry, I’m going to bend you over my fucking knee and turn your ass red,” I rumble, unable to keep from noticing just how cold her skin is. She must be freezing. “Don’t ever apologize for coming here. You understand me?”
Harper nods against my chest, and I can’t help but breathe her in, but I regret it almost instantly. “Goddamn, Morticia. You smell like death.”
“What did you expect? I spent almost an hour climbing over corpses currently decomposing and experiencing different stages of rigor mortis.”
“That’s . . . fucking disgusting.”
Harper scoffs in agreement, and while I’d love to stand here until the sun rises and hold her in my arms, I need to get her inside.
Reluctantly releasing her, I step around her and unlock the door before leading the way inside. “Are you hungry?”
Harper shakes her head. “Just cold.”
I nod. I could wrap her in a million blankets and tuck her into bed, but this chill seems bone deep, and the fastest way to conquer that is to shove her into a hot shower and have a warm soup or hot chocolate waiting for her afterward.
“Come on,” I say.
Harper follows me into my home, and I hastily lock up behind her before leading her into my bedroom and straight through to my ensuite. I could have easily taken her to the main bathroom, but having her in my space like this just seems better. Plus, the main bathroom only has a bar of soap and maybe a spare toothbrush. I rarely have visitors, and when I do, they know if they want to shower, they’re going to have to cater for themselves.
Okay, that makes me sound like a dick, but it is what it is. I don’t like my home being too comfortable for others. I prefer my visitors to come for a good time, not a long time. Harper though, she could stay here every day of forever, and I don’t think I’d care one fucking bit.
Harper follows me straight into my ensuite bathroom, and I don’t hesitate to reach into the shower and turn on the hot water. She stands awkwardly shivering in her scrubs, not knowing how this is going to play out. With her so cold, I don’t care for theusual formalities. I simply grab the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head.
