by Evie Nichole
“How do you not know?”
“I just asked the artist to put something on there.”
“You just walked into a tattoo parlor, jumped in a seat and said, ‘hey, baby, ink me up’?”
“Well, I didn’t call him baby,” he mumbled as he took the wine off of her and drank a mouthful. The warmth under his skin increased until he felt like he was floating. “I got it three days after the failed kidnapping. I was young, drunk, and emotionally unstable.”
“Can I ask,” she said, “Have you gotten over that?”
“I thought I had. Now I’m not so sure.”
“It must be disturbing.”
He laughed and threw his head back. “That is a very mild way to put it.” Slowly his humor drained from him and he was left staring at the bottle of wine. “Do you ever think about that day?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted, “Not so much anymore. I mean, it was a long time ago.”
“You figure they would just stop caring?”
“Maybe.”
He took a few long swallows of the wine and finally meet her eyes. “Not to be rude, but I don’t think you’ve fully considered the time, effort, dedication, and expense that made that day possible.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harbour pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Derek’s whole demeanor had changed within a second. It was almost possible to see the iron walls that he now had carefully constructed around himself. His eyes were fixed on the bottle as he sloshed the contents around.
“Do you remember my dad’s old car?”
She smirked a little. “A hideous gold Hummer.”
“How many of those do you think were in Nowhere back then?”
“Just the one.”
Derek locked his gaze on hers, waiting, anticipating, but she couldn’t quite catch onto what he was trying to tell her.
“My dad’s car was never stolen and, according to the police, there was no record of another one being shipped in.”
Harbour’s brow furrowed. “How is that possible?”
The only way to get something that big into Nowhere is to ship it in. There were only a few companies that could do it and they all drew attention when they pulled into the harbour.
“So,” she asked, “They either organized to ship it under the cover of darkness, or ordered in all the parts and built it here?”
“Or they had some friends within Nowhere’s finest,” Derek muttered. “Do you know how much money my dad shelled out on that car? Either way, these people dedicated a lot of money to have an exact replica.” His eyes drifted to the bottle again. “My dad had been collecting comic books since he was little. Spiderman, mostly. For his birthday, Mom got him a customized stick shift knob with Spiderman’s mask on it. When I opened the passenger door that day, it was there. They had gone so far as to get a damn Spiderman knob.”
“That’s a lot of detail.” She watched him carefully, not quite sure if it was okay to ask the question that had been bothering her for a while. “Why did you almost get in the car? I mean, I heard that the guy was dressed up like your father.”
“Dressed up?” he cut in. “Is that what they told you?”
She nodded and he released a bitter laugh.
“The guy had a full movie worthy disguise. His hair, his skin, his clothes. Hell, he even had contact lenses to match my dad’s color. If you didn’t look closely, he looked exactly like my dad.”
Harbour felt a little chill creep down her spine. Had they brought in a makeup artist to do that? Or did they learn it on their own? Either option was an extra layer of obsessive dedication.
“And let’s not forget about that phone call.”
Derek’s words brought her out of her thoughts.
“They lured you out.”
He shook his head and looked at her again. “My parents are sticklers for public perception. The way they treat me in private is a lot different than how they act if there’s an audience. It’s a sharp shift. And if you remember, my dad never takes me to task in public.”
“I actually thought they never punished at all.”
He bit back a sad smile and passed her the wine. She took a sip as he continued.
“In that call, he talked to me like my dad would in private. Mannerisms, word choice, pacing. He even managed to perfectly mimic the annoyed tone.” He reached out and took the bottle back like he just needed something in his hands. “How long do you think you’d have to stalk someone to get that kind of information? What kind of access would you need?”
Harbour froze. “You think it was someone you knew?”
“Or know,” he shrugged. “We still have a lot of the same business parents, friends, relatives.”
“Relatives?” She smiled. “You don’t really think that.”
“Actually, for a while there, I suspected my parents. Or my uncle. They were having this big beef over who got to control the family business, and around the same time, my grandpa had given me his shares in the company. There were also a few other reasons I’ve stopped caring about. The more I tried to figure it out, the more I realized that just about everyone had a reason to hurt me.” He took another mouthful and Harbour wondered if she should cut him off. He was starting to sway slightly and a loose smile curled his lips. “In fact, the only person in this whole wide world that I know I can trust is you.”
“Me?”
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead. Or chained up in someone’s basement.”
“You can trust more people than me.”
“Like who? You’re the only one who came for me.”
“What about the office ladies?”
“You never read the police reports, did you?” He smiled with an edge of bitterness. “They all admitted that they heard me scream, but together convinced each other it was just kids being kids.” He stared at the sofa as his jaw twitched, “They were just going to ignore it. You made it impossible for them to do that.”
“That was just one bad decision. That doesn’t mean that they were involved.”
“Or, different theory, at least one of them was tasked with the duty of distracting everyone who could have helped me.”
“You think that many people were involved?”
“There were at least two. One in the car and one that made the call from the other side of town. Why couldn’t there be a third?” He watched her, his eyes softening as an indulgent smile grew. “They didn’t count on you.”
Harbour’s chest clenched as he continued to watch her with an easy, calm expression.
“Derek.” She tried to harden her voice but it still came out breathy and meek. “You could have replaced me with just about anyone and it would have been the same.”
She didn’t know how he managed to move his eyebrows in a way that was indulgent and dismissive at the same time, but he pulled it off.
“You know what gets me? Other than the fact that they never caught anyone?”
Harbour shook her head.
“I never knew. Someone, more than one person actually, had dedicated a huge hunk of their lives to me. Whether it was out of hate, lust, or greed, they were stalking me. And I never knew. Never even had an idea.” He rolled the bottle between his hands. “There were people in my life, people that I probably saw every day, that were dangerously obsessed with me. And I never saw it.”
Harbour tightened her grip on her legs. As much as she wanted to reassure him, she couldn’t get the words out. The would-be kidnapers were never caught. From the rumors, she had heard they hadn’t even had a strong suspect. High pitched screams echoed from the TV to fill the silence that lingered between them.
“Ever since I got back here, I can’t help but think/” Derek’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Is ten years really that long?”
The pit of her stomach churned and, as much as Harbour squirmed, she couldn’t lessen the sensation. Suddenly, the night before and the man at the docks sat in her mind with a far darker
meaning. But when she looked at Derek, she couldn’t bring herself to say so. Maybe in the light of day, when he was sober. But not now. Not when he looked so vulnerable. Not when he was halfway to drunk and curling into the sofa like he was searching for the comfort he couldn’t ask for. She wanted to change the subject.
“So, why the tattoo?”
He laughed and slid down low enough to rest the side of his head on the back of the sofa.
“I told you.”
“No, you just said you were drunk and emotional. But why a tattoo?”
It was hard to tell, what with the soft flush that naturally came with his increased blood alcohol level, but she was pretty sure that he blushed.
“I never got to thank you.”
“What?”
“It made sense at the time,” he said as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hold on.” She straightened out her legs, her feet slipping out from under the blanket. “Are you saying you got that for me?”
“May I emphasize how young and impressionable I was?”
“Duly noted.” She grinned, just to make him blush more. “Continue.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what they would have done to me;my paranoia was at an all-time high; and we left before I could thank you properly. And, well, I was a kid. Tattoos always seemed like the answer to all of life’s problems.”
“I never went through that phase.”
“Yeah, but you’re a geek.”
Harbour laughed but swatted his arm for good measure. “I’ve got another question.”
“I’m so surprised.”
Another swat. “Why don’t you know what it is?”
“Oh, that.”
“Well?”
“I’m going to state again that I was not in my right frame of mind,” he said, before breaking off eye contact. “I went into the place and told them the whole story and asked him to pick something in a kind of tribute to you.”
“Why a wolf?”
“I don’t know. I just talked about you and that’s what he picked.”
“And you never looked at it?”
He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I had this idea that you never got to hear my thank you, so I wouldn’t get to see your tattoo. Again, it seemed far more philosophical at the time.”
The sheer amount of embarrassment that was etched onto his face was too much. Harbour had to laugh, and once she got started it was pretty hard to stop. Derek sat silently, torn between watching her giggle and wanting to leave. Eventually, he just ate some chips with no small amount of resentment.
“Sorry.” Her sides hurt, but she tried to straighten. “I’m sorry. That’s actually really sweet. Stupid but sweet.”
“I’m going to look into laser removal.”
“No.” She burst to her feet and retrieved her phone from the kitchen island. “It’s mine. You can’t destroy the cute little guy.”
“Yeah, actually, I can.”
“That’s animal cruelty.”
“It really isn’t.”
He threw her a quizzical look as Harbour came back into the room and began to shove at his shoulder. He let her move him and turned so his back was to her. She yanked down the back of his collar and he released a gargled croak as the neckline choked him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and instead pulled up the end of his shirt.
Derek grumbled and curled his spine. But, since the tattoo was at the nape of his next, she still couldn’t get a good look at it. After a lot of pushing, shoving, and a few muttered curse words, Derek just grabbed his shirt and pulled it off.
Harbour leaned in closer and smoothed her hand over the tattoo. The sober part of her mind mentioned that it was impossible for her to smooth out the lines, but this information didn’t stop her from doing it again. With a sigh, Derek let his head fall forward, granting her better access. Her fingers trailed along his hairline as she lined up the cell and took a photograph.
It was a pretty thing. Bold and solid; simplistic but complete. Deciding that she liked it, she spared a moment to trace her fingertips around the edges. His skin was like silk and as warm as a fireplace. Derek’s shoulders slumped as he released a rumbling hum.
“That feels nice.”
Harbour flushed and quickly dropped her hand. Instantly she wanted the warmth back but curled her fingers to keep them in check. Unable to keep from temptation completely, she leaned against his back as she curled her arm around him to show him the picture.
“I’ve seen it now, so I think it’s about time you see it too.”
He didn’t move away as she crowded into his space, and even tipped his head towards hers. After a long time of studying the photo, he finally spoke.
“It’s not bad.”
“I like it.”
“Do you?” he asked as he turned more towards her.
With his hazel eyes inches from her own, Harbour remembered that she was actually very close to a half-naked Derek. Her eyes skirted down without her permission, taking in the aspects and angles of his chest. She forced her gaze back up. It was a momentary slip. A fraction of a second. There was no way he would have noticed.
Her stomach dropped as his lips twitched up in a small, barely suppressed, smirk. He had definitely noticed. Swallowing thickly, Harbour tried to look away, but her body had decided that it wasn’t going to listen to her anymore. No matter how much she mentally begged.
There was a moment of relief when Derek dipped his gaze. His mouth parted on a whispered sigh as he focused on her lips. The scent of her own soap lingered on his skin. It smelled good on him, somehow better than it ever had on her. He should use it more often.
A scream broke the stillness and Harbour whirled around before she realized that it had come from the movie. Pulling back, she settled into the corner of the couch and drew her legs back up.
“We’re missing the movie.”
She could feel his eyes as a heavy weight upon her skin. It made her twitch. When Derek continued to watch her, she began to tuck her hair behind her ears. She knew none of it had fallen across her face but she couldn’t seem to stop.
Her whole body sagged with relief when he finally turned back to the screen and stretched his arms out along the back of the armrest. The relief was short-lived when she noticed that he was still shirtless. She nipped her thumbnail between her teeth and tried to suppress the urge to ask. It wouldn’t end well. It was a trap. She knew it.
“Aren’t you going to put your shirt on?” She was kicking herself even as the word came out.
The desire only got stronger when Derek turned to her, a lazy smile in place, and shrugged deeper into the couch, a movement that needed to include an arch of his back, a thrust of his hips, and rolling his shoulders.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“What?”
Harbour forced her eyes back to the screen. “You’re going to get cold.”
Derek’s attention never wavered from her as he stretched out his legs. “You’ll keep me warm, won’t you, Puddin’ Cup?”
Apparently, hitting him with a pillow only made him laugh.
Chapter Fifteen
A wet nose gently nuzzled Derek’s hand, urging him away from sleep. Annoyed, he pulled his hand away and shoved it under the thin blanket. Not to be deterred, Jareth gnawed through the blanket and whined. Derek pushed at the dog, the motion dragging down the blanket and exposing his skin to a sudden burst of cold air.
It was his turn to whine in protest. Jareth took advantage of the opening and chewed on his fingers with renewed dedication. A soft sound of protest caught Derek’s attention as a puff of hot hair caressed his neck. With a sudden jolt of awareness, he snapped his eyes open and turned to the block of warmth beside him.
Harbour sighed in her sleep and curled closer, protesting the loss of the blanket. They had fallen asleep on the couch, leaving them leaning on each other to keep upright. The movie had ended and the o
verhead lights gave a yellow hue to the room. In her shuffle for warmth Harbour’s nightgown had slipped, exposing the milky skin of her shoulder. All her time outside had given her a tan that cut off in almost precise lines. The contrast was kind of fascinating, and Derek had a strong urge to run his fingers along them.
As gently as he could, he lifted the blanket and covered her once more. She hummed in contentment and curled closer. The skin of his stomach scorched under her hand as it drifted over him. He almost arched into it as her fingers tightened possessively on his hip. Floral scents drifted from her hair as she pulled closer and nuzzled against the stubble on his neck. A lifetime of physical labor had created toned muscle, but she was still slight. While she had grown out of her childish features, there was still a sweet kindness that clung to her. It was why it was so fun to annoy her. It was like having an angry puppy trying to stare you down.
The storm had passed, leaving only a light trickle of rain that hummed in the air. The world was silent, still, and carried a delightful calm that Derek hadn’t felt in years. With a smile, he settled his head against the top of Harbour’s head and closed his eyes. He was just drifting off on a cloud of roses and lavender when Jareth jumped up onto the sofa next to him and attempted to eat his hair.
He whined as Derek tried to push him off and came back again with more force. It took a few more attempts for Derek to catch on that this was Jareth’s way of asking to be let out. But he was warm and comfortable and Harbour was sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Five more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt.
Jareth shifted his efforts to Harbour and Derek reluctantly agreed to get up. Carefully, he moved Harbour from his side, propping up pillows to keep her comfortable. She mumbled a little but remained asleep, greedily pulling the blankets tightly around herself. Suppressing his annoyance at being so easily replaced, he headed towards the front door. Jareth still chewed at his hand. He couldn’t decide if it was a sign of gratitude or a plea for him to hurry up.
He stumbled across the kitchen and to the front door. It wasn’t until he was enveloped by the cold night air that he remembered he was shirtless. Crossing his arms over his chest, he jumped on the spot as Jareth ran outside and proceeded to sniff every blade of grass in turn.
