He took a deep breath and focused on his hands. His fingers still moved, his arms still worked, and this time, he walked away unscathed. So why did he feel more broken than when his bones were shattered?
The door eased open, and Harper poked her head in. “Hey.”
He straightened, resting his hands on his knees and putting a smile on his face. “Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She moved into the room wearing her flannel pajama pants and a tiny tank top. Her eyebrows pinched together. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“It’s silly.”
He patted the bed beside him, and she sat down. Her heat wrapped around him and he savored the comfort it brought. “Tell me anyway.”
“I’m freaked out. Which is stupid since you’re the one who was held at gunpoint. But every noise is making me jump.”
“Want to sleep in here tonight?”
“Is that okay? What would Jasper think?”
“He’s gone for the weekend.”
She shook her head. “I knew that.”
“He knows about us anyway.”
“What? I thought we were keeping this a secret.”
“I needed someone to talk to.” He shrugged. “He’s my best friend. I couldn’t not tell him. I’m sure you told Olivia and Isla.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Maybe.”
“So, if you want to stay, you can.”
She reached for the hem of her shirt, and his hand latched on to hers. Harper could always make him forget, but this time was different. No matter how big her smile, how warm her touch, he couldn’t get the image of that guy’s eyes out of his mind. Those eyes were always there watching his every move as if they were waiting for him to let his guard down again. “Not tonight. Let’s just sleep.”
Disappointment flared in her eyes, but it was gone in a flash. “Okay. Let’s sleep.”
He kicked off his sneakers and pushed off his shorts before climbing into bed. He lifted his arm, and she cuddled into his side.
He closed his eyes but never fell asleep.
Chapter 21
Milo’s eyes weighed heavy, and he fought the battle to keep them open. He hadn’t been sleeping well despite having Hal pick up all the night shifts. After the incident, Hal was more than happy to cover while Milo took time. He had hoped he’d be back in action by now, but the nightmares only seemed to be getting worse, and he refused to put anyone’s life in danger by not being hundred percent focused behind the wheel.
He dragged his ass out of bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Harper had been watching him like a hawk, and it was driving him insane. She stopped coming into his room at night, and he didn’t question it. It was for the best. The nightmares had been getting worse, and he didn’t want her to know about them. On top of everything on her already full plate, she didn’t need to worry about him, too.
It would pass in time. Until then he just had to weather the storm. Against all odds, he survived being hit by a car, and he’d survive this, too.
He grabbed the crumpled t-shirt off the floor and yanked it over his head, sliding his arms through the sleeves as he made his way to the kitchen. A fresh pot of coffee was already brewed and half gone. He grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup.
He thought about going outside and taking in the hot summer air but decided against it. Sunshine wasn’t going to fix him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push the negative thoughts from his mind, but as soon as he did, the distinct dark blue that belonged only to one person popped into sight, drowning out any attempt for positive thoughts.
There was no way Milo could sleep easy, knowing that bastard was still out there, possibly preying on another innocent victim. What if he came upon Harper walking down the alleyway between Pie in the Sky and The Book Nook? The thought sent an ugly chill down his spine.
Summer was his favorite season and had barely even started, yet he’d experienced two awful events. How could he ever look forward to a season that caused him so much distress? It didn’t seem fair. The memories would stay with him forever, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to shake the fear that lingered in his mind.
“Hey.” Harper’s cheery voice echoed through the kitchen.
Milo ran a hand over his face, hoping to wipe away the fear and unsteadiness. He turned to her and forced a smile. “Hey.”
She poured herself a cup of coffee and held the mug in her hand as she pressed her back to the counter. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good. You?”
“Great.” She took another sip of her coffee. Awkward silence hung thick in the air, a situation he hated on any occasion and was something he’d go out of his way to fill, but he didn’t have it in him to crack a joke or make small talk.
He downed the rest of his coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher.
Harper touched his elbow, and the gentleness was not lost on him. He didn’t know if it were out of comfort or that she was afraid he might break. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” The words held more bite to them than he meant. He ran a hand over his face like that would somehow wash the uncontrollable emotions away. Closing his eyes for a brief second helped ground him. He opened his eyes and looked right into the sweet kindness of Harper’s gaze. “I’m okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me.” She had more than enough to deal with, and she definitely didn’t need to take care of him too. “What are you doing today?” He attempted normal conversation to divert the attention away from him.
“My mom called… said she’s sober. I don’t believe her, so I’m going to stop by unexpectedly and see how full of shit she is.”
“Maybe she’s not. She’s done it before.”
“Not this quickly. And even if she is, how long is it going to last? A day?”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last week, it’s that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Don’t wake up tomorrow and regret something you could have changed.”
“And what am I supposed to change exactly? My mom’s an alcoholic. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“No, but you could be a little bit more compassionate toward her.”
Harper’s sweet eyes turned to liquid fire. “Compassionate?” A perturbed laugh bubbled out, which meant she was about to erupt into a rant of epic proportions.
He held his hand up, a sad attempt to snuff out the fuse he unintentionally lit. Or maybe it was intentional. Judy hadn’t exactly been the poster child for good parenting, but most times she did her best. Harper could never throw the woman a damn bone, always on her case for not being like all the other moms. Harper was so blinded by her disappointment that she couldn’t see that beyond Judy’s problems she was just as kindhearted as Harper.
Was she perfect? No. She was far from it, but after having a gun pressed into his neck, he was seeing things differently.
“She wasn’t compassionate when she passed out drunk and forgot to pick my brother up from work. She wasn’t compassionate when she was making a scene at Schmidt’s and I had to go down there before they called the freaking cops on her. Or what about the time they did call the cops on her? How she blamed me for not getting there fast enough. Like it was my fault she doesn’t know when enough is enough. So no, I don’t need to be a bit more compassionate toward her.”
“Harp, all I’m saying is life is short. What if tomorrow something was to happen and there isn’t a next time? You know damn well you’d never be able to forgive yourself if your last interaction with your mom was a bad one. So give her a chance. Don’t go in there expecting her to be inches from falling off the wagon. Go in there, knowing every day she gets a little farther from the edges, and who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“What?” He held a finger to his ear. “I think I misunderstood you because it sounded like you said you are going to try.”
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She shoved his shoulder, and the warmth of her touch spread through him. The easy banter they always had was a breath of fresh air from the constant horrors in his mind. This was what he loved, what he missed. He just couldn’t get beyond the feel of the gun in the back of his neck. Even Harper, in all her beautiful light, couldn’t erase those memories from his mind.
“Do you want to come?” Harper smiled, and he held onto that goodness.
“No, I’m going to catch up on some of the shows.” Getting out of the house was probably a good idea, but Harper needed to handle her mom without him having to be the bumper. He loved Harper and would do anything for her, and maybe by doing that, he was making things worse.
He always diffused situations with her mom, getting in the middle and calming Judy down or convincing Harper to leave well enough alone. This time, he was staying out of it. He couldn’t protect her from everything. Heck, he couldn’t even protect his damn self. When it came down to it, he was helpless. It was better for everyone if he stopped thinking he was anything more than that.
“Tom would love to see you. Talk about your brush with death.”
Milo forced a smile as if her words didn’t grate on him.
“I’ll catch him next time. Go spend the day with your family.”
“I’d rather spend the day with you.”
“Jasper will be with his lifeguard buddies tonight. I’ll let you pick the movie.”
“Anything I want.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
She tapped her pointer against her chin. “I’m thinking Beaches.”
He shook his head. “You know that damn movie makes me cry.” The movie no matter how good it was, was pure torture. It could bring the most stone-cold person to shed a tear, and with the way his mind had been lately, he didn’t want to chance it. One tear slip might break the dam, and falling apart in front of Harper wasn’t going to happen. He had to be strong for her. “Any other movie. I’m vetoing that one.”
“Such a spoilsport. I’ll have to think about it then.”
“You have all day.” He kissed her forehead, absorbing her warmth, hoping it would knock away the chill that lingered in his bones since that night. “Tell your mom and Tom I said hi. I’ll see you later.”
He hurried down the hall before Harper could stop him and went right into the bathroom, locking the door. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He was so sick of being on edge, but he didn’t know how to stop it. It wasn’t like there was a switch he could flip to make it all go away. Damn he wished there was. Life would be so much easier to deal with.
Maybe a shower would help. He doubted it, but he held onto the sliver of hope that the hot water would fix him.
Forty minutes later, Milo headed out, deciding to walk into town instead of drive. He usually enjoyed a good walk, but today his shoulders were tense from constantly looking over them. Every car that drove by made his heart race, and every time he heard any sort of noise, he jumped. He always caught himself, snapping into action, ready to take down anyone who came at him, except there was never anyone there other than a poor squirrel who was just trying to find his lunch.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to get it together. “Before you actually try to fight a squirrel,” he said to himself. “Because let’s be honest, you’ll probably lose. They’re fast little suckers.”
“Hey Milo.”
He dropped his hand and turned his head to see Mr. and Mrs. Greene making their way down the road in their golf cart. Their dog, a Yorkie named John Andre, sat on Mrs. Greene’s lap and let out a bark when he spotted Milo.
Milo waved.
“Do you need a ride into town?” Mr. Greene asked.
“I’m good,” he said. “Trying to get some exercise.”
“Don’t overdo it. You don’t want to aggravate your leg,” Mrs. Greene said like the mom she was. Liv always complained her parents were overbearing, but Milo appreciated it.
“I’m taking it easy,” he said.
“And how are you doing?” Her warm brown eyes landed on him and concern filled her gaze. “It’s absolutely horrible what happened to you.”
Damn it. Milo knew it was only a matter of time before news hit the gossip mill and the whole town was talking about his brush with death. Luckily, he’d already told his parents so they wouldn’t find out from someone else.
He’d really hoped the guy would have been caught before word got out. He didn’t want anyone to be scared of their small town. Morgan’s Bay was safe—it always was—and now because of some asshole, their happy bubble had been popped. He wanted the townspeople to be able to stay in that bubble for as long as possible.
“I’m doing okay,” he said. “Was a little bit of a scare when it happened, but I’m here to talk about it, and I’m counting my blessings.”
“I’m so happy to hear that. When Olivia told us what happened, my heart nearly beat out of my chest. It could have been any of us.”
It could have been, and that’s what kept Milo up at night. In a sick and twisted way, he was happy it happened to him and not the Greene’s, or Mrs. Wheeler, or Hal, or Harper, or Judy, or Tom. Milo’s heart clenched at the awful visions scrolling through his mind.
There was a reason it happened to him. He managed to stay calm and gave the guy what he wanted. “He’s gone now, and I have faith in our police department that they’ll find him.” John Andre barked, and Milo was grateful for the interruption. “I’m sorry, am I not paying attention to you?” Milo reached out and gave John Andre a head rub. He licked Milo’s hand as he pulled it away.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Mr. Greene asked. “You can hop right on the back.”
“No, I’m set on walking, but thanks for the offer. I really appreciate it.”
“You take care,” Mrs. Greene said, shifting John Andre to her other side. “And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
They took off—as fast as they could in the golf cart—and Milo waved as they went. He didn’t walk right away. If he did, he’d wind up pacing them. After a few minutes, he started toward town again. Unfortunately, Mrs. Greene’s questions had stirred the nightmares in his mind. Horrible scenarios played out one by one, and he was a prisoner to their relentless reel. He couldn’t close his eyes to force the images away; they only became more vivid when he did.
He tried to think of things that made him happy—barbeques, the smell of low tide, water balloon fights, Harper, but not even Harper’s gorgeous face could save him from his own thoughts. The only thing he could do was try to ignore them and hope that if he didn’t feed them, they’d disappear.
With the only sliver of hope he had, he held onto it with all that he was, and continued on his way.
Chapter 22
Harper pulled up to Mom’s house and let out a breath. The gardens looked great—better than they had in years. Mom always took particular care of her garden, but the blooms seemed a little brighter this year. Maybe it was a sign for brighter things to come.
Milo was right. Damn him to hell. Life was too short, and she needed to stop being so hard on Mom, especially if she was serious about staying sober this time. Harper admired the flowers as she passed and headed inside.
The sound of a video game greeted her as she walked through the door and toward the living room. Tom sat on the edge of the couch, eyes focused on the television and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He was in deep concentration.
“Hey Tom.” Harper sat next to him.
He glanced away from the game for a quick second and flashed her a big smile. “Hi.”
She side hugged him, and he rested his head on her shoulder before straightening and continuing his game.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked, surprised Mom hadn’t met her at the door.
“In her room.” Harper’s heart sunk. After Milo’s speech, she was ready to give Mom the benefit
of the doubt and be more supportive, but if she was in her room now that meant she was passed out.
She should have known better. The second half of her life, she’d always expected so much from Mom, and every time she’d let her down. What made her think this time would be different?
Ugh. She always did this—made Harper have hope and then squashed it with no regard for anyone else. She wasn’t going to sit around and wait for her to wake up from her alcohol induced nap. She lifted her bag on her arm about to ask Tom if he wanted to go for lunch when Mom walked into the living room.
Harper did a double take. Her brown hair was styled, her face glowing with makeup, and the black bags that seemed to have been a part of her had faded.
“Hey, when did you get here?” Mom asked, her voice crystal clear and happy… Was Mom actually happy to see her?
“A few minutes ago,” Harper said, still trying to process the woman in front of her. “You look good.”
Mom’s eyebrow quirked, and she spread a hand down the turquoise t-shirt she wore that brought out the blue in her hazel eyes. “Thanks. I feel good.”
“So, you’re really sober?” Harper asked. She was looking right at Mom, but she still couldn’t believe it, she needed to hear her say it.
“I am. I got myself a sponsor, and whenever I feel the need to grab a drink, I call him.”
“I don’t get it,” Harper said. “I mean, I’m happy, don’t get me wrong, but what changed?”
She shrugged and came to sit on the loveseat beside the couch. She shifted to face Harper and let out a breath that she seemed to be holding for a long time. “Between Mrs. Garrick passing and what just happened with Milo, I realized that I don’t want to go through life in a haze. I want to see everything clearly because none of us know how much time we have left on this earth. I don’t want to wind up at the pearly gates only to regret all the things I missed out on because I chose the bottle every time.”
All Because I Met You (Morgan's Bay, #2) Page 15
