by J. L. Beck
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“You know why, and I wasn’t the one who told the school about you living off-campus.”
“Yeah, right. Of course, you didn’t. You were only the one threatening to do so for weeks.” She waves her hands around like she doesn’t know what to do with them, and she somehow needs to let the anger out. “Now you’ve got what you wanted, I’m gone. They are going to take my scholarship—”
“No, they won’t. I paid back what you owed. Your scholarship is fine.” My words have the desired effect, and she stops moving around. Her arms fall to the side of her body.
“You did, what?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“Yes, I told you, it wasn’t me. I don’t want you to leave…” I’m close to telling her why I don’t want her to leave, why I would do anything to keep her close, but my stupid brain keeps getting in the way of pouring my heart out.
“What’s the catch? What do I need to do for you in return?” Even though her reaction is completely justified, it still makes me angry. Maybe more so at myself.
“I need your complete obedience in all matters,” I half-joke. Her mouth pops open, and I know she is about to start yelling at me, but I cut her off before it starts. “I’m joking. There is no catch.”
“Warren… I can’t do this. Where am I supposed to stay? I was paying for food and books with the leftover money. Without it, I have nothing.”
“You will stay with me, and I’ll give you anything else you need. You don’t have to worry about this. Just pack your stuff and let’s get out of here.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me, I don’t know if she expects me to say anything else and if she does, I don’t know what she wants me to say.
“You aren’t serious?” Her face twists into this strange look. It’s both fear and joy. “Wait, you are.”
“Let’s go, Harper. I hate that you’re back in the same situation as before, and on top of that, I need to do some investigating and find out who the hell did this.”
“You don’t have to help me. I can figure it out myself…” She stubbornly states, but I’m not having it. Grabbing her by the chin, I tilt her face to mine.
“I’ll do whatever I fucking want, and because I want to help, I will. Now, please, stop being stubborn, grab your shit and let’s leave.”
Harper’s lips form into a flat line, and it looks like she might fight me some more. My cock comes to life at the thought. I’ll gladly take her over my knee and spank her ass until there isn’t a lick of defiance left in her. Shockingly, she pulls from my hand, grabs her backpack off the couch, and slips her shoes on before walking back over to me.
“Ready,” she murmurs.
I nod and grab her hand, tugging her out of the room and closing the door behind us. We walk down to the car in silence, even though I’m boiling over with anger and a need to unleash it. As soon as I have Harper in the car, I pull my phone out and walk around and get into the driver’s side. Before I even start driving, I dial my father’s number.
“Son,” his voice meets my ear.
“Why did you do it? Just tell me,” I growl, strangling the steering wheel with my free hand.
“Do what?” He plays dumb, which only makes me burn hotter.
“I’m not a fucking idiot. How did you find out about Harper staying off-campus, and why the fuck did you go to the school with the information?”
Silence. Nothing but silence greets me, and that’s all the answer I need.
“Stay the fuck out of my shit and leave Harper alone.”
“Do you really think a girl like her is at a university like Blackthorn to get an education? She is there for one thing only, to find a rich guy and use him. Probably trying to get knocked up.” I press my phone closer to my ear.
“You know nothing about her,” I growl into the phone, hoping that Harper didn’t hear what he just said.
“I know enough. She’s no good for you. She is going to use you like she did before. Mark my words. She will destroy you. You deserve better, and if I can get rid of her, then I will.”
“Leave. Her. The. Fuck. Alone.” I project each word into the speaker with a harshness that I’m sure even he can feel.
I’m done fucking around. Harper is mine, as she always has been. I don’t care if her parents worked for mine. I don’t care about our past anymore. All I care about is us and moving forward. I finally have her in my hands again, and nothing is going to ruin this for us.
“You’re making a mistake, Warren. A huge fucking mistake.”
“No, you are. Leave her alone.” I hang up the phone and toss it over my shoulder, damn near swerving off the road in the process. Forcing air into my lungs, I focus all my attention on breathing, taking deep calming breaths. Looking over at Harper, I half expected her to be sank into her seat, fear in her hazel eyes, but that’s the last thing I see.
Instead, I see something that I never thought I would see in her eyes again. Love.
It’s such a profound feeling that it makes every other emotion inside of me dissolve into dust. Love? Could I love Harper again? Could I let go of everything, forget that she ever hurt me? I guess I’ll have to decide because going against my father won’t be easy, but it will be worth it if I get to have Harper.
18
Harper
Everything goes back to normal, or as normal as it was before. I return to classes thanks to Warren, who is actually making an effort not to be so territorial when it comes to his friends. It seems like everything is going well, considering we are pretty much starting all over again. Well, apart from all the fighting he is doing with his father. That isn’t making things easy.
Still, things are much better than they were before, and I do feel good about the future. That is until I walk by the bulletin board outside the library.
Right there in front of me, in black and white, is a flyer with James’ picture on it. In big, bold letters, it says MISSING PERSON underneath his photo, and all I can do is stand there staring at it, willing an explanation to pop into my head as to why he would be missing.
Warren didn’t… Oh, god. Lifting a hand to my chest, I try and calm myself down. I can’t jump to conclusions and assume he would do something like that. He couldn’t have. He beat James up, but he was alive when we left.
Like a detective, I try and piece everything together in my mind. Warren took me back to his place, and he didn’t leave again, so it couldn’t have been him, right? I need to ask him and see what he says and go from there.
Somehow, I get my feet to move and exit the building, walking toward the cafeteria where I’m meeting Warren and Easton for lunch. The entire walk, I’m filled with worry, wondering what the hell happened to James that night. Yes, what he did was wrong, but that doesn’t mean he should die, and we all know that when someone goes missing, they generally don’t just reappear alive and well.
Entering the cafeteria, the sounds of silverware clanking and people chattering meet my ears. Right away, I notice there are more of the flyers taped to the walls in here. I spot Warren sitting in our usual spot, a tray that’s partially empty in front of him. Easton is sitting to his right, and Parker, his other best friend, sits across from him. There is one spot to his left open that I know is for me.
As I cross the room and see all the flyers, I suddenly start to feel like I’m in a horror film, his image appearing in front of my eyes over and over again.
“Hey, babe,” Warren greets, his smile falling when he sees my horror-stricken face. I slink down into the seat beside him and start to chew on my bottom lip nervously. “What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re going to be sick?” he asks.
“Did you do it?” I twist in my seat and look up at Warren. His jaw is sharp, his eyes hauntingly beautiful, and I still can’t believe that we’re doing this.
Confusion overtakes his god-like features. “What are you talking about?”
I point to the nearest flyer and watch as he piec
es the puzzle together. The air in my lungs stills as I wait for his answer.
“I don’t know what that’s about. Parker took care of him.” Warren looks away and pierces Parker with a hard gaze.
Parker took care of him… What does that mean?
“If this is about James going missing, I don’t know what the hell happened. I waited until he woke up, and then I told him to go home. He was disoriented and could barely walk but he got up, and started walking away.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper as if the FBI or someone is listening.
Parker leans across the table, “Yes, I’m sure.” He whispers back in a mocking tone.
“Well, forgive me if I jump to conclusions,” I roll my eyes and relax a little knowing that Warren had nothing to do with his disappearance.
“I’m an asshole, sweetheart, but not a killer.” Warren leans into my ear and whispers. Goosebumps erupt across my skin and a shiver ripples down my spine. “Plus, I was with you all night, tending to your hands and knees.” I know that, but the fact that we were the last people to see him doesn’t sit well with me, and I know how violent Warren can get, and I was totally out of it that night.
“What happened to him then?” I ask anyone who is listening.
“Maybe he got eaten by wolves,” Easton adds, and for a second, I forgot he was even sitting with us.
“Doubtful,” Warren replies, rubbing at his chin.
“I can have someone check the video surveillance and see what happened after he walked off? But I’m pretty sure the police already took a look at it, so if they didn’t find anything, I doubt we will,” Parker suggests.
“Yeah, let’s do that. I would still feel better if I knew,” I agree, the knot of worry unraveling a little more in my belly.
“What you mean is, you would rather make sure I’m not lying to you?” Warren snaps.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I murmur, even though it’s partially true. If I’m honest, I do worry that he is lying to me.
“Why do you even care, Harper? I heard what he did to you. Warren told us. If anyone should want him to disappear, it should be you.” Easton pipes up.
He’s not wrong, but just because someone does something bad doesn’t mean that they automatically should die or go missing. If that were the case, the world would be a much better place.
“I’m just worried. I thought maybe you guys did something, but now that I know you didn’t, I wonder if something else happened to him. I know what he did was fucked up, but that doesn’t mean we have to be as ruthless as he was.”
“If there is anything to be found, the police will find it. No point in worrying over nothing.” Parker shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“You should eat something,” Warren says, and I nod in agreement. I should, but I’m not sure I could stomach any food right now. I’ve been feeling nauseous all day long, and now the worrying is making it even worse.
“I’ll grab something,” I say just to appease him. Leaving my backpack on the chair, I get up and walk over to the line. Grabbing a tray, I place a slice of pizza, an apple, and a bottle of water down on it and move to the front of the line to pay.
When I return to my seat, it’s just Parker and Warren sitting there. I place the tray on the table and pick the pizza slice up to take a bite, but my stomach clenches so badly it feels like all of its contents are going to come flying out of it.
Dropping the slice back down on the tray, I stare at the apple. Should I even try?
“Are you okay?” Warren asks, concern etched into his features.
“Yeah, just a stomach bug, I think. Maybe I’ll go home and try and sleep it off.”
“That sounds good. I’ll come with you and keep you company.” He wiggles his eyebrows, but I shake my head because there will be none of that. I feel like I’m going to barf all over the place.
“I’m sure that’s what you’ll do,” Parker snorts, “keep her vagina company, more like.”
Warren shrugs, “So, she’s mine, and so is her pussy. I’ll do with it as I please.”
“Can we please go,” I interrupt them before they can get into a full-on conversation about vaginas, something neither of them has.
“Yes,” Warren sighs, and we get up and dump our trays. Parker says goodbye and runs off, probably to meet up with Willow.
By the time we reach the car, I’m so exhausted, I sag into my seat and let my eyes drift closed. Sleep comes to me far easier than expected, and I pray that when I wake up, this illness will be over with.
I wake completely disoriented, my eyes scanning the nearly dark room, while the familiar scent of Warren fills my nostrils. The soft mattress cradles my body, and I lie there for a long second. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the car. I must’ve really been out of it if I didn’t wake up when he carried me in?
Before I can draw up a conclusion, I’m rushing from the bed, my feet sliding across the floor as I barely make it to the toilet in time to vomit. My eyes water and my throat burns as my fingers curl around the toilet bowl, while my stomach empties itself.
After a few minutes, I stop vomiting and manage to push away from the toilet. My eyes move over the contents that line the back of it, and dread consumes me when I notice the not even open box of tampons.
They sit there, taunting me while I try and do the math inside of my head. I can’t be, there isn’t any way. I’m on birth control…
“Oh, god…” I whisper in horror. Whirling around, I run from the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Warren isn’t anywhere to be seen, and that only leaves me feeling more panicked. Walking out into the living room, I find him sitting on the couch. My heart clenches in my chest when I see his half-shadowed face.
He looks broken, shattered, and I know instantly that something is wrong.
As I pad across the floor toward him, his eyes shoot up and land on mine.
“And the queen finally wakes up.” He smiles, but it’s not full of joy or sunshine. It’s cruel and angry. I swallow thickly and stop in my tracks, wondering if I should really tell him right now. He looks like he might kill someone, me included.
“Is everything okay?” I croak.
“Of course, come here. I’ve missed you. Are you feeling better?” His eyes soften, and the tension in the room eases.
“Well, actually no,” I whisper. When I reach him, he circles my waist with his hands and buries his face in my chest. He inhales deeply like I’m oxygen, and he needs me to breathe.
My heart thuds so loudly in my chest that I wonder if he can tell how scared I am right now. The pungent smell of whiskey tickles my nostrils and my stomach rolls. Oh, god, not again.
Warren pulls away and looks up at me. His eyes are glassy, and I’m guessing from the amount of whiskey missing from the bottle, he drank beyond what he needed to.
“You look like you’re going to be sick again,” his voice is soft and wraps around me like a wool blanket. I just need to tell him, come out with it.
He’ll still love me and want me. We’ve been through too much for him not to, and plus, it’s just a possibility. It might not even be true yet. My eyes dart from Warren and then to the wall behind him as I contemplate what I should do next.
I have to tell him…
“Warren… I think I might be… pregnant.” The words fall from my lips slowly, and I watch with fear as my entire world falls apart.
“What did you just say?” He pulls away from me like I’m fire, his voice deep, his eyes dark. In a second flat, he’s become the cruel bastard he was before.
“It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” And I didn’t, though the way Warren is looking at me right now makes me think he does.
“Pregnant?” he scoffs, his features turning even darker if that’s possible. I start to shiver, the darkness in the room blocking out any light. All I can feel is his rage, his anger, it suffocates me, circles my throat like an imaginary hand and squeezes. Shoving off the couch, he towers ov
er me, and I take a terrified step back. The man before me isn’t the one I’ve come to know.
“It’s funny, my father told me you would do this. Told me you would get pregnant and find a way to make certain I could never get rid of you.” He lets out a bitter huff, and I feel the tears pooling in my eyes.
“I would never do that, Warren, and if you believe that, then you don’t really know me.”
He nods his head, a sinister smile pulling at his lips, “I guess I never really did know you. I thought so much of you once before, and you showed your true colors then. Now here we are again, your hand wrapped around my heart, squeezing the life out of me all over again,” he reaches for the whiskey bottle, his fingers flex around the neck before he brings it to his lips.
The last thing he needs to be doing right now is drinking more.
“Warren, don’t be stupid. I didn’t do this to us. I wouldn’t have.”
His eyes turn to slits, and instantly I know I’ve made a mistake. In a flash, he’s throwing the bottle. It crashes somewhere behind me, but that’s the least of my worries. Before I can even turn to run, he has me in his grasp, his hand wrapped around my throat. He lifts me off my feet and pulls me into his chest.
Like a bug caught in a spider’s web, I struggle to break free, but there is no point.
“You wouldn’t have, huh?” he taunts, his face masked with burning rage. He squeezes my throat, not hard enough to hurt me but enough to grab my attention. Like a cat, I claw at his hands and chest, but my nails are nothing to him; my fight only bringing him more joy. With a snarl, he sends the next words like a knife into my heart. “Why don’t you get an abortion and get the fuck out of my life.”
A door opens somewhere in the house, but I can’t comprehend what is going on. All I can see and feel are his words. I go slack in his arms, and he releases me, watching as I slide down his body and onto the floor. Tears stain my cheeks, and I shiver, a coldness sweeping over me. I can feel his eyes on me, feel them burning into my skin.
