Pretend You're Mine: A Small Town Love Story

by Score, Lucy

  Things were a little different now. Melissa had made detective in Baltimore a few years back and Harper was anything but a scared kid. But their dynamic hadn’t changed much. Melissa still looked out for her no matter how much the adult Harper protested. Together, they attended every parole hearing and testified, facing the monster. Clive Perry had never made parole.

  In twelve years, he had laid nothing but his gaze on Harper. He witnessed her growing stronger while she watched his slow descent into frailty. He wasn’t a physical threat to her anymore, she felt sure of that. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still do harm.

  Would he target her, or someone she loved? Or was it all a game? Maybe he would decide to make the best of his freedom and …

  What? He was a bitter, warped old man. There was no remorse, no hope for the future. He would die having lived his entire life in hate and pain.

  A life wasted.

  Well, she wouldn’t waste hers. And she wouldn’t bring danger to the people she cared about. She would pick up and move on. Fremont wasn’t an option at this point. He could find her there and with her, Hannah.

  Maybe she would head east. Find a cozy beach town and stay for a few months. It wasn’t much, but it was a plan. She wasn’t ready to go back to Joni’s yet. Harper eyed her gym bag on the passenger seat. She could hop on a treadmill at the gym until she was ready to laugh at everything.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  A run on the treadmill led to half an hour of circuit work and then a quick shower. By the time she got back to Joni’s, it was already dark and she was exhausted. Lights glowed through the frosted windows, beckoning her tired body.

  Harper let herself in the front door and sniffed the air and followed her nose back to the kitchen. “What is that amazing smell?”

  Joni looked up from the pot she was tending on the stove and grinned. “Oh, just my Grandma’s chicken corn soup with fresh biscuits. Grab a bowl,” she said pointing at the kitchen island where two soup bowls waited to be filled.

  “If it tastes half as good as it smells, I might just cry.”

  “That’s all right and then you can tell me how it was Luke delivering your groceries here and then moping around when he found out you weren’t here.”

  “Oh my God, the groceries!” Harper clapped a hand to her forehead. “I walked right out without them!”

  “Not to worry. They were delivered personally by Luke, who also dropped off your coat and some sweaters. He kept muttering about it being winter and you running around with no clothes.”

  Harper sighed. “I just don’t understand him. How can he say he doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me around and then do all this?”

  “He’s scared, Harper. I think you bring out feelings in him that are bigger than what he can handle.”

  “I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

  “You can imagine how many different versions of the story I’ve already heard so I’m pretty anxious to hear yours. Luke was sporting a pretty nice bruise on his jaw.”

  Harper covered her face with her hands. “I went to the gym and tried to run until it was funny, but I got too tired. So I’m still in the pissed off and embarrassed phase.”

  “Well, why don’t you grab the bottle of wine in the fridge and we’ll drink until it’s all funny.”

  Harper obliged and grabbed two wine glasses out of the cabinet. She filled them both and handed one to Joni before hugging her. “You’re the best, Joni. I really, really, really appreciate everything that you’ve done for me.”

  Joni hugged her back, hard. “Oh honey, right back at ya. Now come on, let’s eat, drink, and be merry.”

  They took their soup into the living room where a fire crackled in the fireplace and Harper filled Joni in on the grocery store incident. She left out the mention of Melissa’s phone call.

  “They were throwing punches and slamming each other all over the cooler. There was glass and beer everywhere and they kept going. Thank goodness for Ty. He broke it up fast. Linc stopped right away, but Luke kept coming, so Ty punched him right in the face. And then we all had to do the walk of shame out of the cooler and face half the town.”

  Harper pulled her feet up under her and spooned up more soup. “It was the first time I’d seen him since … since.”

  “And he finds you in Linc’s arms, smiling up at him. Oh that’s too good,” Joni snickered.

  “He thought we were making out!”

  “Honey, it’s better that he sees you in the arms of a drop-dead gorgeous fireman than moping around in your sweats with ‘I’ll shower next week’ hair.’”

  “Excellent point.”

  “He got to see exactly what he was pushing you into. A life without him.”

  “It was so hard to see him. I just can’t look at him and not love him. Why can’t I just accept it and move on gracefully. You know, like an actual adult?”

  Joni laughed into her wine. “Harper, I think you proved today that you’re handling it more maturely than he is. You didn’t throw a hissy fit that involved the police.”

  “That’s true. Do you think he and Ty will make up? I feel like I caused a lot of trouble in the family today.”

  Joni patted her leg. “They’re men. I’m sure they’ve already made up with beer and meat.”

  “You are so wise when it comes to men. Do you think you’ll ever dip your toes back into that pool again?”

  “It just so happens that I have a dinner date tomorrow night.”

  “What?” Harper sat up so fast she almost bobbled her soup. “Who?”

  “A gentleman named Frank Barry. I believe you may have met him.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “You and Angry Frank? How did that happen?”

  “Well, a long time ago, Frank was my high school sweetheart. We only dated a short time, but it was memorable.”

  “Are you the reason he never got married?” Harper gasped.

  Joni waved it away. “I doubt that very much. But I am looking forward to dinner with him. I asked him, by the way. I ran into him at the diner when I was picking up lunch today.”

  “Good for you! What are you going to wear?”

  “Probably something warm since it’s so damn cold.”

  “Good thinking. See, running into old flames is what you do in Benevolence. I can’t stay here. Luke can’t even look at me without going all Hulk smash in front of Georgia Rae of all people. And I can’t look at him without wanting to kiss him and slap him until he realizes what an idiot he’s being.”

  “Don’t let one bad trip to the grocery store scare you away from Benevolence, Harper.”

  Harper picked up her glass of wine and sipped. “I keep thinking that if this is how he reacts when he sees me with another man, how am I going to feel when I see him with someone else? I don’t think I could take it. It’s for the best. Distance will heal us both.” She hoped.

  “I wish you’d stay.”

  “I wish I could, too. Do you think you’d be willing to come visit me when I’m settled?”

  “I would love to. I promise I will. Especially if you move someplace warmer.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’m leaving Saturday.”

  Joni sighed and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m really going to miss you, Harper.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too. And not just for your cooking and your wine. I think we should go sweater shopping for your date. Maybe something with a little scoop neck that you can cover with a scarf. Then if things are going well, you can take the scarf off.”

  Joni laughed and poured them both more wine.

  ***

  Luke leaned against Ty’s cruiser. His anger and frustration at being kept out of the interview with Glenn kept him warm against the frosty morning air and the subzero look Detective Rameson had tossed his way.

  He kicked at the cracked asphalt.

  He should be in there. Not waiting in the fucking parking lot. He felt useless and that was new for him. It wasn’
t easy to step back and let someone else take care of a situation. One that he wanted to handle himself, in his own way. Let that fucker take one step in Harper’s direction. That’s all it would take.

  He was in charge, in control. At work, in the Guard. That’s how he liked it. The responsibility was heavy, but the alternative was this. Standing and waiting for someone else to get the job done.

  He had tried calling Harper again after he left the police station last night. But all he got in return was a text thanking him for dropping off the groceries and coat. She didn’t respond to him after that and he had to talk himself out of driving over to Joni’s house and dragging her out of there to talk to him. In the end, he decided it would be better to take care of the problem without her knowing.

  He spotted Ty and Rameson as they exited the building and pushed away from the car.

  “Well?”

  “We got him,” Ty said, tapping the hood.

  “What did he say? Did Perry send him?”

  “You guys wanna grab some breakfast and talk strategy?” Rameson asked, zipping her coat.

  Luke grilled Ty on the way to the restaurant.

  “Don’t even think of making me wait until we get there.”

  “Yeah, yeah. If it were Soph, I’d have my undies in a wad too,” Ty sighed. “Glenn sang like a damn soprano as soon as Rameson told him he’d die in prison like his pal Clive Perry.

  “He told us he met Perry his first week in, and as soon as Perry found out that he knew Harper, well they got nice and chummy. Says Perry was the one who got his mom the cash for his bail and promised him more than that after the deed was done.

  “All he had to do was slit Harper’s throat and whisper that fucker’s name in her ear as she died.”

  The image flashed into Luke’s mind before he could guard against it. He took a second to push it back, catch his breath.

  “Glenn swears he wasn’t actually gonna kill her, but he felt like he at least owed it to Perry to rough her up some.” Ty pulled into the parking lot of a long, squat building that promised “Homemade Everything.”

  “You okay?”

  Luke wanted to put his fist through the window of the cruiser and pretend it was Clive Perry’s face. He wanted to bolt out the door and run the twenty miles home to find Harper and wrap her in his arms and promise nothing bad would ever happen to her. She had come within inches of her life and he hadn’t been there to save her.

  This time he would.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go,” Luke said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

  They got out of the car and met Rameson at the door. “Well I can see from your cheerful expression that Adler here told you what we got.”

  “Perry doesn’t walk,” Luke snapped out.

  “Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Get inside already. I’m hungry,” Rameson pushed past him and into the restaurant.

  They ordered coffee and eggs from a waitress who looked like she was 12, and they talked strategy.

  “We got a good start with Glenn rolling on him. He’ll testify to save his own ass.”

  “Case would be airtight with a confession from Perry,” Rameson said, stirring an endless stream of sugar into her coffee.

  “He’s not going to talk to you,” Luke said.

  “No shit, he’s not,” she said, eyeing him. “However, a pissed off boyfriend who tries to tell him that he’s never gonna get near her?”

  Luke smiled grimly. “Because he’s a weak, pathetic old man.”

  “Exactly.” She grinned. “Maybe you’ll be useful after all, dumbass.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Luke pulled open the heavy metal door of the prison’s visitor entrance and stepped into the cramped vestibule. A guard behind glass pointed to the speaker on Luke’s side.

  He leaned forward. “Here to see Clive Perry.” He felt like he was ordering movie tickets.

  “Any weapons or other contraband?” The guard pointed at a poster listing, among other things, cellphones and drugs and slid a clipboard through the opening above the skinny counter.

  “No.”

  “Sign in.” The guard’s tone was as bored as a seventh grader conjugating verbs.

  Luke scrawled his signature on a blank line and wrote Perry’s name next to it. He was surprised the pen didn’t snap in his grip.

  “Go on through that door, through the metal detector. Visitors’ desk is on the right,” the guard said, buzzing him through.

  The next door opened, and Luke walked into a large waiting room. The block walls were painted a pale, industrial gray. A handful of people waited in plastic chairs facing the desk.

  After answering the contraband question again, Luke tossed his sunglasses, keys, and wallet in the tray and passed through the metal detector.

  The woman behind the visitors’ desk looked more like a cheerful grandmother than a prison guard.

  Her graying strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a bun that tight, frizzy curls were exploding out of. Her round face had a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

  “What can I do for you, sugar?” Her drawl echoed West Virginia mountains.

  “I’m here to see Clive Perry.”

  “Okay, I’m gonna need your driver’s license, please.”

  He handed it over and she copied it before returning it to him.

  “All right, sugar, you go ahead and have a seat and I’ll send someone to find Mr. Perry. We’ll set you up in an empty room.”

  Luke thanked her and took a seat facing the desk. His fingers drummed a silent beat on his jeans.

  No matter what, it ended today. Perry’s stalking and manipulations, any threat he posed to Harper, ended today. No matter what.

  “Mr. Garrison?”

  Luke approached the desk.

  “We’ve got you in room B. Just follow Bill here, and Mr. Perry will be in shortly.

  “Thanks.” He followed Bill, a guard with a shock of white hair, who topped the scales at maybe 100 pounds.

  The room was a dingy ten-foot-by-ten-foot space with a scarred table, an ashtray that hadn’t been emptied for at least a week, and two plastic chairs. The walls were covered with wood paneling from the seventies.

  Luke ignored the chairs and stood in the corner, facing the door, to wait.

  A few minutes passed before the door opened again. It was Bill again and behind him was Perry.

  Clive Perry might once have been intimidating. But a lifetime of poor choices left him stooped and hollow. He was five-foot-eleven, but his stooped shoulders made him look shorter. His gray hair was combed and neatly trimmed.

  The lines on his face were deep, making him look older than his 62 years.

  There was nothing remarkable about the man. Nothing that screamed “unstable psychopath.” Except maybe the eyes. A pale, watery blue. There was an emptiness in his gaze. Luke had seen it before. In the enemy’s eyes. And once in his own reflection.

  Perry thanked Bill and took a seat at the table. Long gnarled fingers, stained yellow, reached for a cigarette.

  He lit it and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Garrison?”

  Play it cocky, Luke reminded himself. The cocky, overprotective boyfriend.

  He took the chair opposite Perry and tucked his sunglasses into the open collar of his button down.

  “Do you know who I am?” Luke asked.

  “I haven’t the faintest.” Perry’s small, mean smile showed teeth stained with age.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit. You are done harassing Harper.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Luke pulled the letter out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “I think you do.”

  The smile broadened. “Ah, my letter.”

  “Letters,” Luke corrected him.

  “So she’s read them. I wasn’t sure. We’re something like pen pals,” Perry said.

  “No. You’re something like a stalker.”

&
nbsp; “I pose no threat to her.”

  Luke smirked. “I can see that.” He kicked back in the chair.

  “I’ve served my time, Mr. Garrison. I’ve been a model prisoner,” he said, steepling his fingers. “And I’ve made no specific threats to your girlfriend.”

  “You don’t have the balls to make a direct threat, much less carry it out.”

  “There, you see? Nothing to concern yourself with. My history with Harper is just that, history.”

  “Then why do you still write?”

  Perry opened his hands and shrugged. “Maybe it’s as simple as I don’t want to be forgotten. We played important roles in each other’s lives. It would be a shame to forget that.”

  “You abused children under your care.” Luke didn’t have to add the revulsion to his tone. It was already there.

  “Like I said. I’ve served my time. In the eyes of the law I’m rehabilitated.” Perry fingered the edges of the envelope. “Tell me, what did she say when she opened my letter? How did she take my news?”

  And there it was. The hunger. Feed him just enough.

  “She assures me that you’re no threat. You’re just a crazy, frail old man who blames her for your own crimes.”

  “She took twelve years from me,” Perry said, slamming his palm down.

  Luke gripped the table. “You raised your hands to those kids. You beat them, neglected them. No one made you abuse them. You deserve to be in jail for the rest of your life, and if you even think for one second that I’ll let you near Harper when you’re released, you’re even more senile than she thinks.

  “You’re confident you can protect her.”

  “Just try and get through me. You’ll learn what fear feels like,” Luke said quietly. “I won’t rest until you’re dead or behind bars for life.”

  “You’re awfully cocky in your ability to protect. Tell me, where were you when that man broke into your home? Where were you when he held that blade to her throat? Were you there to protect her then?” He licked his thin lips.

  “How did you know about that?”

  “I could have read about it in the paper,” Perry said, stubbing out his cigarette. He raised his gaze to Luke’s. “Or I could have sent him.”