Page 74 of To Bring You Back
Tim parked the nose of his car close to the front bumper of the other. “True. We should’ve brought security.”
Gannon left his phone in the cup holder and climbed out of the SUV as the driver’s side door of the other car opened.
Harper wore a loose tank, cotton pants, and heels. Despite the late hour, gigantic sunglasses covered half her face. The combination of those and her hair hid the bruise. He hesitated. What if the whole thing—the bruise picture and, an hour and a half later, the picture of the blown tire—were an elaborate ruse?
As if sensing his doubts, Harper removed the glasses. The headlights hit on the purple and red that swallowed her right eye.
How could this have happened? He’d been so sure no one else had been in his apartment. So sure she hadn’t been attacked. Maybe she hadn’t been. Maybe this was something new. But so soon after those rumors of violence?
He met her where she stood, still by her car, and she clung to him. Her chin against his shoulder felt off. Adeline was shorter, and her hair didn’t brush his neck like this when they hugged. He returned the embrace, but as he did, he checked the car’s wheels.
Sure enough, the back tire was shredded.
She sniffled. “I can’t believe this would happen tonight, of all nights.”
He untangled himself from the hug. “How far did you drive after you hit the board?” He didn’t see anything in the road resembling the two-by-four she’d described.
“Not far. It sounded awful.”
Then where was the board? But the tire was undeniable evidence that she’d hit something. “What happened?”
“There was a board in the road. As if this night needed to get worse.”
“I mean to you.”
“Oh. I”—she slid the sunglasses back on—“fell.”
This story again? “Eye first?”
“Into a chair.”
“Did you have it checked out?”
“Nothing’s broken.”
“If you’re not worried about it and it was a simple fall, why are you here?” In her messages, she’d implied she was running for her life.
She frowned and focused down the dark road as if to control tears.
Fine. It was after two a.m., too late to play twenty questions. Especially on a deserted road in the dark.
“Pop the trunk. Let’s get your luggage and get out of here before the tow comes.”
“Why? Embarrassed to be seen with me?”
Yes. Hence the SUV to hide in, Tim to act as a driver, and the tow instead of putting a spare on and having her drive herself to Havenridge. “Do you really want to deal with a tow truck driver right now?”
“If he’s cute.”
He lifted the lid of the trunk and found it stuffed full of luggage. With a bag in each hand, he started for the SUV.
Harper trotted after him. “Maybe you don’t know how to change a tire.”
“I know how.” Fitz had taught him when they’d gotten a flat on the way to LA that first time. He stood clear as the tailgate of the SUV opened.
“Who taught you?” Her tone was playful. Somehow, she thought this was flirting. “Your dad?”
One of Awestruck’s first hits was about how he’d been raised by a single mom, and Gannon had discussed it in hundreds of interviews. Everyone knew about it, but Harper, who claimed to be a friend, forgot?
