Page 39 of Harper's Song

Not everything’s lost though. I know where her next tour stop is—in fucking Idaho, the state I hate the most. I spent two weeks one summer ten years ago hitchhiking across it to get back to Harper. Or walking mostly, since it turns out there aren’t that many kind strangers willing to give a dirty, smelly seventeen-year-old guy a ride. This was after I’d spent almost a year on the farm owned by the fucker my mother ended up marrying, buying into her fantasy of finally having a family. I still have nightmares about it. And one morning I just walked away, took nothing but the clothes on my back, because I couldn’t stay there a minute longer. And my only goal was getting back to Harper. My mother’s probably still there, unless her twisted asshole husband killed her by now. I never heard from her again after I ran away.

But this is no time to go down that particular memory lane. I can’t waste anytime going after Harper. If the Renegades really want her, then four bodyguards won’t be enough to protect her.

I scan the motel’s parking lot, looking for a good car to take. The best way to steal a car is to get the keys. Especially when it comes to these modern cars, which the parking lot is full of. What I wouldn’t give for an old pickup truck from back when cars were still made right here in this country. But there’s none in sight here.

I edge along the wall trying to pick out one I might have even half a chance of hot wiring, when the sound of a chopper passing on the road interrupts me. I head for the road, sure it’s some other member of Devil’s Nightmare MC come to watch Harper, and I can flag them down and explain everything. But a few moments later a tall, burly guy with dark hair and a darker beard guy comes riding out past the motel, heading down the same road as Harper and the others.

He’s not one of the Devils and he’s wearing no other club colors. He’s an old man wearing all black and sitting on his bike like death come calling.

And there goes my last hope of talking with the Devils tonight.

I missed my chance to speak to them and make sure she really is safe from the men who really are after her.

I missed it because I knew that might make it impossible for me to spend time with her.

I fucked up because I’m selfish and thoughtless and too childishly arrogant, thinking all she needs to be safe is me by her side.

What else is new?

13

Harper

It was hard leaving Jax behind. So hard I had to run two red lights on my way to get my stuff and leave this city, because I didn’t want to stop. If I had, I’d probably go back to get him.

The song that’s been sounding in my mind all afternoon, the first new song I’ve come up with in months, just stopped playing as soon as I left him in that parking lot and it’s not coming back.

But we’ll never break out of our pattern if we just keep repeating it.

And we’ll never break the pattern because he never fights for us. Even tonight he just stood there and let me drive away.

I kept repeating all that in my head and somehow managed to keep driving away.

The last thing I needed was Grizzly and his long-winded explanation about how he’s there to keep me safe from Jax who is plotting to hurt me.

As if.

Jax would never bring actual harm to me, not in a million years. I tried to explain that to him, but Grizzly’s my father’s man through and through and he’ll never doubt Scar’s word on anything. Or do anything other than follow his orders and his wishes.

Well, fine. I’m on the road to my next tour stop and he can follow behind me all night, because I don’t plan to stop.

My father’s calls just keep coming, with no pause in between now, which on its own means I should pick up. I don’t want to, but I do it anyway.

“Harper, I think it’s better you come home now,” he says and his suggestion literally blocks my ability to take a breath.

“Umm, no,” I manage to sputter, but that’s all I can say.

He clears his throat into the silence that follows. “Honey, I know how much this tour means to you. But there’s a… we believe that…“

“Just say it, Dad,” I snap.

“Men are after you and Jax is helping them,” he says. “I’m on my way to get you and bring you home.”

“I’m sorry,” he adds when I don’t say anything. “But if you or Hunter had bothered to tell us what happened when you visited Jax in prison this wouldn’t be such a problem.”

I’m riding down a very dark stretch of road and haven’t passed a light, let alone a house in miles. But that’s nothing compared to the darkness that’s filling me. I can’t go back home. I only just managed to leave.

“Dad, no,” I say. “I’m not coming home. I’ll accept the bodyguards you sent, but just to make you feel better. I’m in no danger from Jax. He loves me and I love him.”

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