Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1)

by Chanse Lowell

  He grabbed her tush and leaned into her back.

  “You’re not?” Sam’s voice rose.

  “For me.” Adam grabbed a little harder. Mari shook him off and gave a slight chuckle. “She’s gonna stay this size so I can’t accidentally hurt her if the numbers figure out a way to take me again.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Good luck to them, I say, because with Mari and now my music, they’ll never have a chance. I haven’t seen the numbers at all lately.”

  He kissed her shoulder.

  “Wait . . . Your music?” Sam sounded alarmed.

  “Yeah. I’ve started playing again, and Dad said I could pick back up on my lessons. I know it’s been a long time since I played, but I’m ready to do it again.” He smiled at the thought of getting better and playing something for Mari.

  “But you know how frustrated it used to make you.” Sam shoved her magazine aside and stood up. “Why are you doing this? If you’re getting better, then why take the risk of adding more stress?”

  “I was little, Sa-mar-a. I was like a baby wanting to run before I could even crawl,” he told her. “You worry too much. Besides, if I get mad, Mari knows how to talk me out of it.”

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s gotten lucky a few times, but that’s all.” Sam rested her hand on the counter and stared at them both like they were clueless.

  “Hey, what’s that smell?” Zach asked, charging into the room all sweaty and smelly from football practice. “And, sweet Jesus, is that rock-chick cooking in my kitchen?” He moved his way over to the food and peered inside the pot. “Right on! I love spaghetti!”

  “Dad’s gonna be mad. It has pasta,” Sam said with a sniff like it smelled terrible.

  “Dad’s not gonna tell me what I can and can’t eat anymore. I’m better, and I’m seeing Dr. Harkham tomorrow as part of our deal,” Adam said.

  Mari spun toward him. “Can I see this doctor with you?”

  “Of course.” He patted her shoulder like he was comforting her, then he chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll want to hear from you how nuts I am.” He laughed harder.

  “No more jokes. I can’t keep up with you,” Mari said with a smile.

  Sam gawked.

  Zach dipped the spoon in and tasted it. “Needs more sugar,” he pronounced.

  “Don’t you dare put that spoon back in,” Mari said.

  Zach dropped it in, then ran out the room, laughing like a maniac.

  “Creep,” Mari said quietly.

  Adam helped her get the pasta out so she could toss it into the boiling water.

  But that didn’t mean she would cook it alone. He was learning so much about how to make a meal already. She allowed him to place his hands over hers so he could cut along with her as she sliced onions, mushrooms and garlic. He also got to help her stir the sauce from time to time.

  She was careful at explaining everything thoroughly.

  His heart was swelling over how patient she was, teaching and trusting him.

  “Why don’t you make the salad while I whip together the dressing,” Mari said.

  “Okay!”

  In no time at all, he had a nice salad put together, and it was really colorful. She gathered a lot of stuff out of the fridge to put in it. He was used to boring ones with only lettuce. Maybe that’s why he never liked it in the past.

  Sam set the table and remained quiet. When she did move, it was robotic. “I usually make dinner,” she said. “Or I do when Dad’s not here.”

  “Is he here now?” Mari asked.

  Their dad had yet to come out and say anything to her. Adam thought it was rude, but right now, he was too busy helping prepare this meal to worry about it.

  “Yeah, but he’s busy. He’s working in his office,” Sam said.

  “Working on avoiding me,” Mari said softly to herself.

  Adam put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “He’ll join us for supper. I’ll make sure he does.”

  “It’s his house,” Mari said, eyes pleading. “Let him do whatever he wants. I plan to keep out of his way and earn my keep.”

  “We’re a family, and you’re part of it now. We try to eat dinner together as much as we can. Sam makes sure we do,” Adam said. He gave a loud smooch on her cheek and left to find Zach and his dad.

  Zach was showering, and his father was missing.

  He returned to the kitchen to find Sam and Mari with their heads down, silent.

  “Let’s eat. They can’t come,” Adam announced.

  Mari dished up his plate for him. The sight made his insides feel warm and soft above the navel, but below, he was hard and sore.

  Was this supposed to happen from food being put on his plate? He never felt sore when anybody else gave him food.

  Images invaded his mind of eating oranges out of Mari’s hand in her sleeping bag when they were waiting in line for tickets, and it quickly morphed into visions of eating food from her hands in his bed.

  “You’re really pretty tonight, Mari,” he blurted. His eyes roamed down her body.

  “She looks like hell,” Sam mumbled.

  She served herself her own food, and Mari didn’t try to stop her.

  When Sam was done, Mari got her own portion of food, barely taking any for herself.

  Adam leaned over and slopped a bigger helping onto her plate. “Eat,” he told her.

  “I’m not very hungry,” Mari countered.

  “You will be. You’re gonna be with me tonight, and we’ll do something fun. Maybe go out back and play basketball.” He winked and gave a crooked smile.

  Mari tucked her hair behind her ears, ducked her head down and took a bite.

  Zach raced in and took a seat, splattering food everywhere as he helped himself.

  “This looks amazing!” Zach said. “I’ve missed Italian food.”

  “Me too,” Adam said between bites.

  “I’m gonna have to watch it, though—I’m gonna have to work out extra if you feed us like this while you’re here.” Zach piled on the Parmesan cheese. He stared at his food and before taking a bite, asked, “Why’s it this pink color? Is that some healthy secret? The sauce looks different.”

  “I put cream cheese in it,” Mari said.

  “It’s awesome. Your taste buds will worship her,” Adam said, beaming at Mari. He chewed and swallowed, never looking away. “And she always tells me she can’t cook, and she burns things. She lied.”

  Mari dropped her fork. “I didn’t lie. This was one of the few things my dad made and taught me. I wanted your dad to think I wasn’t completely useless, so I made the best thing I could.” Her hands moved to her sides, and her head sagged.

  “Who cares what he thinks? He doesn’t know how great you are yet, but he will. He’ll see.” Adam scooted his chair back and picked her up because she was so sad.

  “I’ll be back for our food,” Adam told his siblings, and he carried her up the stairs to his room. He plopped her on his bed. “I’m coming right back. Stay here.” He shut the door and ran down the stairs. A second later, he had her plate and his and was racing back to her. He tapped the door with his foot. “Mari, it’s me. Can you open the door? My hands are full.”

  She opened it but refused to look at him. Her body was sluggish, and her eyes looked a little puffy and red.

  “Did I make you cry because I left?” he asked, setting their food down gently on the bed in a spot where it wouldn’t spill.

  “No. I just . . . Thank you for taking me in, but I don’t belong here.” She sat down on the bed, away from the food and tucked her legs up under her.

  “You do belong here, because I’m here.” He picked up her plate of food and sat in front of her.

  “Sam and your dad don’t think so. They don’t want me here ruining your family.” She stared over at his bookshelves.

  “They’ll get used to having you here. Don’t give up. We can do this. Now open,” he said, pulling her chin down with a slight pinch of his forefinger and thumb. “I’m gonna
feed you and make you happy.”

  She stared up at him but looked empty. “I love that you believe in them the same way you believe in me.”

  He smiled. “We’re not talking about them and their bad attitudes. We’re eating now.”

  He took the fork and gave her the first bite, but she tried to hold the fork to steady it.

  This wasn’t what he had in mind. “Let me take care of you. Please? I’m gonna feed you without your help.”

  She chewed, swallowed and kept quiet. He scooted closer, leaned in and fed her this time with his fingers, leaving the fork on the plate. It was messy, but worth it.

  Each drop of food or splat of sauce, he kissed off her.

  Her eyes grew heavy, and she gave him that donut look again like she had on their date to the Mediterranean restaurant. “That’s a hungry look for me, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, and her back curved in a way that made her chest stick out.

  He set the food aside and climbed over her. “This is my room.”

  “I know,” she said, breathy.

  “I’ve wanted to have you in this spot for a long time. Now that you’re here, it’s better than I thought, and you’re not even naked,” he said, lowering himself closer.

  Without looking, his fingers unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

  “We can’t. Your dad’ll freak,” she said, resting her hand on his but not really stopping him.

  “He won’t know.” He popped up and locked the door. “And now he can’t come in.” He went back to being on top of her, his hand right next to her round, beautiful breast.

  “But I will. I’ll know, sweetie. I promised I’d be good and keep his rules while staying here.” She wiggled under him, and he let his body weight press down, trapping her.

  “Don’t go,” he whimpered.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “Then keep your bedroom door unlocked tonight. I’m coming in after you’re asleep.” He gave the flirty brows, kissed her, buttoned her shirt back up, then took her hand. They’d be good. He made sure they grabbed their food, then he took her back downstairs.

  This family was never complete without his mom, but it was now.

  Mari was here, and things were better than ever!

  Chapter 19

  Mari’s back froze as she felt Samara’s penetrating gaze on her from across the kitchen.

  Oh fuck! Not again . . .

  Adam was off looking for his dad and brother once more so they could all eat dinner together—the stir fry she made for tonight. What was she thinking agreeing to come here? A park bench sounded more comfortable at this point than a bed in a house filled with people that hated her.

  Last night was rough as her first time staying here—and it seemed tonight would be no better.

  “He’s back to music, huh?” Samara asked.

  Mari’s neck shrunk about two inches as she ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ears. She went back to stirring the food briskly. “Yeah.”

  “And you’re encouraging this?” Samara’s voice pitched high with disbelief.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Samara threw her magazine at Mari, smacking her in the back.

  Mari’s face crumpled and tears were scratching at the backs of her eyes.

  “Don’t do that,” Mari said through a tense, locked up jaw. She let go of the spoon and turned to face the angry girl slowly.

  “You’re so stupid. The stupidest bitch I’ve ever met, and for a while, I thought you might have been good for him. You’ve systematically undone every good step Dad and I have made to help him climb his way to success.” Samara circled around the kitchen island and stood about three feet away—really close to striking distance.

  Mari’s fingers flexed, but she purposefully relaxed them so she wouldn’t punch her in the face.

  “If you talk to Adam, you’ll know he’s grown. But that’s assuming you’ll listen to him. He’s told me how you don’t pay attention to what he’s saying.” Mari stepped back. The urge to lean in and flatten her was so overwhelming, she had to stop breathing to slow things down. Her arms were twitching.

  Samara rolled her eyes. “Puhlease! He’s regressed more than ever. Playing the piano again? I suspected he was, but now I know exactly how deluded he is! That damned piano is the reason our mom left. It made him crazy, and he got out of control. I don’t even know why Dad bought him another one. Placating him, no doubt.”

  Mari’s eyes misted. “I know this. He already told me what happened when your mother left.”

  “Yeah, and you don’t give a shit. I know! You’re giving him soda, donuts, and telling him to go after his music. Do you know how much my father’s tried to steer him away from music? He’s allowed to do his remixes, but that’s it. Music is a dead-end for him. He needs to focus on what he’s good at—math, science. He should be a doctor—find the cure to his own disease.”

  “He’s not diseased,” Mari said, her voice escalating.

  “He’s diseased worse than anybody I’ve ever known!” Samara leaned forward, her teeth bared. “Our mother was sick, too. He got it from her.”

  “Then you’re sick as well,” Mari said.

  “I’m the only sane one in this whole stupid family.” Samara lunged forward, jammed a finger into Mari’s chest. “And if my mother was here, she’d hate you, too. Dad and I see what you are. We know a coked-up whore when we see one.”

  Mari’s face went ice-cold. “I’ve been clean for well over two years,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, because you don’t have the money. I’ve checked up on you. You’re broke. Your mom’s broke. Your dad’s almost homeless himself. And they hate you, too. Nobody likes you, because smart people know when to stay away from toxic trash.”

  Mari’s lips quivered with pain, and her eyes filled with water.

  “You know, I was wrong. He’s not the most broken, diseased person I know. You are.” Samara used her pointy finger in Mari’s chest to push herself away from her.

  Adam was bounding through the hallway toward them. They could hear him approaching.

  “And if you tell him about this conversation, I’ll make sure he never sees you again. I’ll convince Dad to take our family and run. I’m the reason we moved here to Arizona in the first place. That’s the only time he listens to me. I’ve found a better doctor for Adam in California. I’ve already been talking to Dad about switching his care over, but he’s reluctant, because Dad likes Dr. Harkham.”

  Mari sniffed.

  “Dad . . .” Samara grunted. “Hmph! You’re the reason he didn’t eat dinner last night. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with you. You disgust him. Doesn’t matter what you cook for him—he won’t eat it, and I don’t blame him.”

  Mari’s hands and feet prickled with icy pins. Her extremities were numb.

  Samara mumbled under her breath, “You’ve already broken this family. You won’t make it here long. We won’t let you. You should leave now, you selfish bitch.”

  Mari nodded and turned back to the food, keeping her head down.

  Head down, mouth shut, fists away from her face, Mari. You can get through this night and then find somewhere else to stay tomorrow. Adam can be convinced . . . You have to go.

  Adam entered the room, and the tenseness hanging in the air tightened to a near-shattering point.

  She set the pan of rice on the trivet and went about her business. If nothing else, Mari was good at keeping out of the way. She’d lived her whole life that way. This was nothing new.

  * * *

  Mari woke to a bare-chested Adam under the covers with her, groping her body without any reserve. He was not holding back at all.

  This was a first for her, waking up all aroused and moist.

  Last night he’d fallen asleep and didn’t make it into her room after everyone went to bed like he’d threatened.

  Tonight he was full of energy—not acting tired at all.

  “It’s sorer than ever,” he m
oaned. “And you can help me this time.”

  He pulled her hand down and placed her palm directly on his pulsing erection. A tight groan from him and then he was grinding into her grip.

  Shit! Let go, you idiot. You’re gonna get caught.

  Only . . . she didn’t want to let go, and something inside her wouldn’t let her release his hard cock. She wanted it here in her hand, so she stroked him and held him tight.

  Odds were, it wasn’t going to take very long to get him off, with how turned on and needy he was right now. She’d just have to kick him out of her room directly after.

  “Oh God,” he moaned, taking a deep breath after saying it.

  You can’t do this. He’s never done this type of thing before. You’re ruining him!

  A river of guilt swept through her, softening her spine. She gulped and strained her neck away from him so he wouldn’t see the amount of self-control she was using to keep from taking away his innocence.

  “Oh, please touch it a lot more,” he begged, his voice breaking as he began to thrust harder into her hand.

  He put one of his hands over hers, coaxing her to move faster, hold tighter. With his other hand, he was pulling his shorts down.

  She pulled her hand away. “I can’t do that to you.” She tried to stop him from undressing the rest of the way.

  It was scary how badly she wanted to yank them down the rest of the way for him, so she had to keep her eyes elsewhere. Anywhere but on his dick.

  “I . . . Why’s this wrong? I love you, and you said you love me, too. It feels right,” he said, voice husky and deep, yet with an urgent edge to it. “Please—you need to help me.”

  She placed her palms on his chest. It was a little damp. Christ almighty, he was really worked up.

  “How many things have I done wrong in my life?” she asked.

  “But this one’s good,” he said, excusing what he wanted to do. A little whine escaped him as he continued to rub himself on her.

  “I know it feels good, but until we can fully commit and your family is there to witness it, I can’t do this to you.” She kissed him to temper the blow. “I’m sorry . . . Please, don’t see it as a rejection. I want you more than you could possibly know.”