She made a face. “Of course I do.”
This was a new twist. Did it mean Callum paid for her rent, or did she get a discount because he owned the place? Maybe stripping really did pay the bills. “Are you chasing me off? Cena told you, I’m not a bad guy.”
Harper’s eyes moved to the doorman, then back to me. “Give me one reason to invite you up to my place.”
Cocking my hip, I chuckled warmly. “We could play twenty questions.”
I’d meant it as a light joke, but her expression said I’d intrigued her. Perhaps telling her that I’d heard her sing would actually turn out to be a good thing. “If you come up,” she said slowly, “You’ll behave.”
“What did you say last night?” I asked, so softly she had to strain to hear me over the cars driving by. “Something about… not biting unless asked?”
Harper’s lips parted; I ached to fill the gap with my mouth. Whirling, she pressed a key card to the door, motioning for me to go inside. The lobby was wide; bright from all the windows. A large elevator reached up from the middle of the room, gold and crystal. The stripper poles at the Golden Goose kept entering my mind.
Callum owns all of this. It was impossible not to think of this place like a stone tower. And at the top was Mister Big, ready to crash and burn once I toppled him down.
“This way,” she said, leading me towards the elevator. We passed by the security desk as we went. There was a man there, his face jagged, too thin in all the wrong ways. His hands were harmlessly holding a phone to his ear. But I knew exactly what cruelty they were capable of.
He watched me as I walked by, but no recognition flashed in his face. Between us both, the only reaction was my ribs straining with the memory of old injuries.
“You okay?”
Blinking, I stood next to Harper in the elevator. “Fine. Just thinking about how small of a space we’re in.”
Her cheeks turned a dusky pink. “I said behave.”
“I am.” Purposefully, I set my hand on the smooth wall right above her head; she flinched, breathing deeply. “I’m just riding up with you. That’s tame. I’m definitely not thinking about how much time I have to kiss you and get your clothes off before we… ah.” The doors dinged. “Never mind.”
Harper gave me a slight shove. “You’re something else.”
“Flattery is always appreciated.”
The walk down the hallway to her condo was short. She clicked a key in the lock; the entryway opened straight into a wide, brightly lit room. A chunk of speckled marble formed the island in the kitchen; I could see it from the door thanks to the open floor plan. No question, these condo arrangements had to run a high five figures a month.
“Your boss pay for you to live here, or do you take care of that with your dance money?”
She didn’t bristle, though she did look away from me. “He pays for it.”
The knife of jealousy cut deeper into my heart. I was right; sugar daddy arrangement.
Harper went into the kitchen, draping her purse onto the back of the chair. “Callum paid for everything. It started slow, but soon, everything was in his name.”
My mouth went dry. “Why would you let him have that much control over you?”
Running water from the sink, she snorted loudly. “Sorry. It’s not like I had a choice. Mom wasn’t exactly old fashioned, but what wife turns down her husband’s gifts?”
I grabbed the island to balance myself. There was no way I’d heard her right. “Husband?”
“Yeah. My mom was married to him before she passed away.”
Impossible. Callum is her dad? But… when I researched Mister Big, I’d learned he only had one daughter: Cena. How was this possible?
“Here,” she said, setting a glass of water on the island. She’d poured one for each of us. When I didn’t immediately take it, she squinted at me. “Jack, you okay?”
Regarding the room… Harper… everything with more distrust, I sat on a stool next to her. “I didn’t know your boss was your dad.”
“Stepdad. He married my mom when she got pregnant with Cena. I kept her last name, I’d had it my whole life, why change it when I was nearly sixteen?”
Then Cena is her half sister. I was reeling, absorbing all this information at hyper-speed. Everything made more sense; Harper coming here at night wasn’t to fuck her boss, it was to be with her sister. Walking her to school wasn’t a job. They were flesh and blood.
Fuck.
This will mess up my plans, won’t it? I dug my fingers into my knees. No, it won’t. It can’t. I can still go through with everything. I have to, I…
“Jack? Jack!” Harper grabbed the front of my shirt, holding my shoulders tight. “What’s wrong, you’re so pale.”
I circled my hands on her forearms. I’d zoned out, but when I zeroed back into the moment, I saw how close her and I were. I could count her eyelashes, see the fine lines in her plump bottom lip. The fear in her eyes made her blue irises glint with silver.
Her shirt was loose enough that my angle gave me a view of her lavender bra inside. She was breathing quicker; she’d noticed our proximity, her body’s signals giving her anticipation away. It was exactly how she’d reacted when she was giving me a lap dance.
The memory made my jeans too tight.
She started to back up; my hands became a vice. “Wait.”
“Okay,” she said nervously, “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Closing my eyes, I took a slow breath. The particles in the air were all her. “What’s wrong,” I said, my voice thick with need, “Is that I haven’t felt your lips in over ten hours.”
We came together like a wave on a beach. I wanted to kiss her until she eroded my fears. I needed her wetness, her warmth, the sweetness of her taste buds on my own… and I needed it more for my heart than for my body.
Kissing Harper the first time was a mistake. This? This was suicide.
Cupping her cheeks, I rubbed my nose on hers. “Dammit,” I hissed. “How can you be this perfect?” Catching her hip, I lifted her knee and pressed it against my ribs. She was standing; I was still sitting. I’d rooted myself to the spot, as if I was sure, if I rose to my feet, duty would force me to end everything.
I wasn’t ready for an ending. For years, I’d been sure I was; the end was the only thing that gave me meaning. I fell asleep each night thinking about how I’d crush Mister Big. It was my drive, nothing had threatened that.
Cena is her sister.
Fuck.
“Jack,” she said as I pulled out of the kiss. Her nails cut through my hair; each motion created tingles in my bones. My muscles went taut, cock raging in my boxers.
Nearly panting, I released her leg. “I can’t,” I said. “We can’t.”
“What?” My rejection shocked her almost as badly as it did me. Harper stroked my bicep and I stepped off the stool. Both of us saw me adjusting my painful hard-on, her confusion making my heart ache. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not. I just… I just need a minute.” My neck twinged as I looked around the room. Behind me was the exit to the main hall, in front of me was Harper, and to the side was the bathroom. Go out the front door, leave her. This won’t work—you can’t have her. Fuck, you’re going to kidnap her sister to use as blackmail.
She’s Mister Big’s daughter. Maybe not by blood, but… for all it counts… family.
You can’t get Cena today, but there’s always tomorrow. Unless you chicken out.
Harper is your enemy.
The angel who’d saved me was looking at me like I’d cut out her lungs. I’d had plans to do so much worse. “I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, dodging around her and into the bathroom. Closed away there, I could still feel her with me. The walls, the door, they did nothing to separate me from Harper.
The room was pure white marble and silver fixtures. Bending over the sink, I ran the water, cupping it in my palms. It slid between the gaps in my fingers. That’s my resolve, I thoug
ht, fighting the urge to laugh. How could I possibly go through with kidnapping Cena now that I knew she was Harper’s half sister?
Splashing my face, I gripped the edges of the basin and stared at my reflection. The sight of my own uncertain features strangled my heart. Flaring with anger at my own weakness, I filled the sink to the brim. I shoved my whole head under.
Idiot.
I let the water fill my nose.
You’ve forgotten everything you struggled for.
The sensation of drowning cleared my head. When my chest seared like I’d filled it with tar, I ripped myself upwards, drawing in oxygen with pained gasps. Palming soaked strands of hair off of my forehead, I smoothed my hands over my scalp. My eyes throbbed, but I could see clearly, think sharply.
When I’d been left to die in that alley, I’d learned the only time we’re capable of awareness is when we’re balanced on the frayed wire of death.
And that was the only reason I spotted what I did above the mirror.
Freezing, I squinted in disbelief at the spot between the two large light bulbs in their silver casings. What I saw made my veins run with acid. It infuriated me in a way few things could.
I knew exactly what I had to do.
Chapter Five
Harper
He came back out, his face a map of turmoil. I didn’t know Jack well and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Our connection was all in my head, and I was great at making poor decisions. But I wanted to know what was going on… why he was acting so weird… so I sat there, perched on the stool, and waited.
Jack paused in front of me, stiff as a statue of armor. “Your stepdad, do you love him?”
Again and again, Jack left me guessing. “Why does that matter?”
“Just tell me.”
I leaned away, scrunching up my nose. “No. I don’t love the man.”
“Then why the hell do you work for him?”
“Jack, if you’re about to try and pull some ‘Save the poor stripper’ bit on me, I don’t need it.”
“I’m not trying to save you. I’m trying to understand you.”
Jack sought me out with a raw, genuine expression of concern. Only Cena looked at me that way. My guard cracked, every reason I had not to tell this man about my situation falling into the shadow cast by my heart. “It’s not a happy story.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Few of them are.”
I closed my eyes and breathed. In my ears was the low ring of white noise, the stuff that filled the gaps between memories. I scooped it out of the way and let myself talk. “Callum wanted me to be a singer. He always wanted that… he said I was special, knew I’d make him rich. When he discovered me, I felt blessed. But that meeting was what linked him to my mother.” Wincing, I uncurled my fingers; my nails had dug into my own flesh. “When I realized that singing had ruined any happiness my family could have had, even if we remained poor… I decided I no longer wanted to sing. I convinced Callum I’d lost my ability due to… grief.” I glanced away, not ready to expand on that part of the story. “It infuriated him. But he wasn’t going to let me off free of charge. If I wanted to see my sister, I had—have—to work for him.”
“He doesn’t know you can still sing?”
“Only you and Cena know.”
Jack blinked. “It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around, choosing stripping over singing.”
My laugh was hollow in my chest. I wondered if that meant my heart had shrunk, and all I had inside of me was useless air. “I’d choose it over and over, and then I’d choose it again.”
“But you’re voice… it’s amazing.”
“This amazing voice ruined my life, Jack. Stripping my clothes off for strange men isn’t torture. Callum can’t hurt me by making me get on that stage. If anything… I relish it.”
He scooped my hands up where I’d folded them in my lap. His fingers brushed the sensitive undersides of my wrists. “Explain that for me.”
I hated this story. I wished we could just go back to kissing, to forgetting. This is better, I told myself. If he knows everything, there’s nothing left to hide. He can accept my messed up life or walk away before I’m too attached. Part of me knew it was too late. “Every night that Callum sees me up there, twirling on his damn pole, dollar bills showering over me? It’s a reminder to him that he’ll never, ever get what he wants from me.”
I waited for him to tell me I was insane; because I certainly was. Or maybe he’d say I was stupid. I sometimes felt that way, too. I waited for him to cut me open and see that I was full of dust inside. His lips made a “y” shape and I rapidly prepared for his sentence to be: “You’re wasting your life.”
“You’re a fool.”
“You’re worthless.”
Jack said, “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
My ribs hurt; my heart wasn’t small, it couldn’t be with how much it made my chest strain to keep it from bursting. “What?”
“How else could you spend all of this time throwing his loss in his face? That’s powerful stuff, Harper. There’s just one thing I’m wondering about.”
I swallowed, noticing how I’d leaned closer to him. “What?”
“Why did you stop singing in the first place?”
My voice came out flat. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know you well enough.”
Jack didn’t press it. Letting go of my wrists, he took my chin, gazing down at me like he could read the grooves in my brain. “Has Callum ever hurt you?”
“Not physically, but I’d let him make me suffer as long as he left Cena alone.”
His touch vanished. Jack paced the kitchen, his hands knotted at his sides. They were coiled springs, waiting to unleash their power on anyone who dared to get in his way. I watched with fascination, but not fear—angry men didn’t frighten me. More than that… Jack didn’t frighten me.
When he came back my way, I heard he was whispering. I caught none of it, just that he was talking to himself in a rapid, disgust filled tone. Words were chewed up, spit out, forgotten so he could make room for more.
Finally, he whirled on me. The ferocity in his eyes paled next to his hard-set jaw. “No more of this. I can’t let a monster like him hurt anyone else. You deserve better, Harper. Someone as kind as you deserves the damn world.”
My head began to float away, my voice distant to my ears. “You can’t know that. You don’t know me, Jack. Deep down I’m horrible. I’ve ruined lives.”
“No,” he snapped, standing over me, but never touching me. It was like he feared I’d shatter in his grip. “You’re an angel. You saved my life… you gave me a second chance.”
I was definitely floating away now. My skin felt too tight over my skull. “What are you talking about? A second chance at what?” I wished I could read his mind the way he seemed to be able to with mine. I never saved him… we just met a few days ago. I chased my memory for any tail-end hints of what he was speaking about. Then I locked up, recalling something with vibrant unease. “Jack, last night, you said you were at the club for revenge.”
Jack didn’t stir. He watched me expectantly.
My lungs struggled, my breath getting quicker. “You want revenge on Mister Big. I’m right, aren’t I?” It made sense, all these questions about my boss… about if I loved him, if he’d hurt me. I was right and I knew it before Jack said a word.
Bending closer, he took my hands, spreading my fingertips on his face. Slowly, he brushed them over his jaw and forehead. There were fine, raised lines; old scars. “Do you remember a young man lying in an alley?” he asked softly. “A fool who thought life would reward him just because he’d known nothing but suffering?”
A trumpet wailed in my head. Sound waves hammered on my memory until they molded it into something diamond-clear. Someone was brutally beaten and lying in an alley. His face was swollen, more crimson than tan-skin—nothing like the hardened jaw of Jack now. Yet I knew them to be one and the same.
In my memory, sirens screamed. I’d hung around just long enough to make sure the ambulance got to him. The last I’d seen of the young man was his body strapped to a gurney.
Until now.
At some point I’d yanked my hands away from him and moved them over my lips; I whispered through them in desperate fear. “What did my step father do to you?”
Every line in his face told a story with the same tragic ending. This was a man who’d been unquestionably wounded. How had I not recognized our kinship? “He stole everything from me. But that’s fine, because I’m going to return the favor tenfold.” The way he smiled made my heart stop. “Mister Big has lots to hide. I’ve got a plan to make him admit to the worst shit. All I need is some leverage.”
Sparks of paranoia went off in me, traveling along my spine until I was lit up from within. I needed to know his plan, because as intriguing as this was, as tempting as hearing him muse over destroying a man I hated was, I suspected his plan was dangerous.
He considered me, watching for my reactions. “I was going to kidnap the one person that I thought meant something to him. His only daughter.”
I choked on a wave of bile. The room swam, but only for a second. “No,” I said flatly, stepping towards him. “You need to leave.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Leave. Or I’m calling the police.”
The confusion in his eyes hurt me more than I expected. “Don’t you hate Callum as much as I do?”
Marching to the front door, I grabbed the knob, yanking it open. The air that swirled inside caught my hair so that it blinded me. It was brief, and I wished it lasted forever. Seeing Jack so… betrayed… it was too much. “I do hate him. But I love Cena more.”
Jack’s face went slack. “I wouldn’t hurt her. It’d be an act, and with you in on it, she’d—”
“She’d be terrified. And what if your plan failed? What if Callum’s vengeance is worse than yours? Jack, I’m not going to put her through that.”
He drew himself up. “She doesn’t have a clue who he is, does she?”
“She’s eight fucking years old, Jack. Of course she doesn’t know. And if I get my way… she never will.” I couldn’t imagine the way Cena would change if she got a whiff of how corrupt her own father was. The guilt would sweep over her, staining her soul. She deserved better.
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