I glance behind me, but there’s nothing there. Just the darkness of the alley and the light from the front of the bar beyond it. I take a breath and start heading back inside, forcing myself not to start running.
I close up the bar quickly and head home. When I get there, the porch light is on, and the warm glow of it feels like safety. The windows are lit up as well, and the door’s unlocked because the people inside are waiting for me.
I only hesitate for a second with my hand on the doorknob, but when I push inside, everything is normal. Cash is in the kitchen, making himself a late sandwich and humming absently. Everett is in the chair in the living room, reading a book. Lincoln is on the couch, looking at something intently on his phone. It’s the usual scene, nothing out of the ordinary.
I exhale slowly, telling myself it’s all okay. I’m home. I’m safe here. Nothing is wrong.
But I still don’t know if I’m saying that because it’s actually true or just because I want it to be.
Chapter 40
Harper
The next morning starts out normally enough. I actually manage to sleep through the night for once, and I don’t wake up feeling like I’m mid-panic, with my heart gripped by anxiety in my chest. It feels… okay. I feel fine.
The house is quiet, and the sun comes in soft through the windows. I get dressed and head downstairs while the men are presumably showering and getting ready, and I start the well-worn ritual of making my cup of coffee like I do every morning.
But then there’s a flash of… something out of the corner of my eye, going past the window. It’s quick, and when I look properly, leaning over the counter to see, there’s nothing there. It could have been a bird flying by, or a leaf rustling in the breeze, probably nothing to worry about at all, but it sets me on edge, and I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
“Fuck it,” I mumble under my breath. I don’t even stop to put shoes on, heading outside to check on things. There’s a chill in the air this early in the morning, so I wrap my arms around myself and step into the damp grass, trying to convince myself that I’m just being ridiculous.
It wasn’t anything worth getting worked up over, and I’m wasting my time out here. But a little voice in the back of mymind whispers that it’s better to check and have it be nothing than the alternative.
I walk around to the back of the house, checking the garden area, and I don’t see anyone. Everything is quiet, and there aren’t any noises other than the breeze through the trees and the sounds of horses in the distance.
“See?” I mutter to myself. “Nothing. Now calm down?—”
Of course that’s when I see it. There in the garden, pressed into the soft soil where I was working yesterday, is a footprint.
It isn’t mine, and when I go a little closer, I can tell it doesn’t belong to any of the men either. It’s too small, too deep in the wrong places. It doesn’t seem like it’s from this morning, since there was dew last night, and the edges of the print are still crisp.
Someone was here.
A sick, crawling feeling starts to rise in my throat, and I have to swallow hard to keep it from going any further. I try to shake it off, turning to stumble back toward the front door. My mind races, trying to come up with justifications and reasons why this isn’t a big deal, but I keep coming up empty. Someone was here, and that can’t mean anything good.
I walk past my car in the driveway, and a flash of white on the windshield catches my attention. It’s a folded piece of paper, tucked under the wiper. I snatch it up, realizing it’s a note. No envelope, just plain paper with a message scrawled in sharp, angry writing:
You took something that doesn’t belong to you.
My stomach drops. Panic hits me so hard and so fast that I nearly throw up right there in the driveway. There’s a ringing sound in my ears, and I sway on the spot, overcome. Because there’s only one thing this note could mean, and it’s not anything good.
I suck in frantic breaths of air and manage to get myself back inside and close the door behind me. The note is crumpled in myhand now, and I try hard to steady my breathing and myself so I don’t start hyperventilating.
When I step back into the kitchen the men are there now. Cash is at the stove making eggs, and my cup of coffee sits, ready and waiting for me like one of them adding the cream and sugar I prefer and left it there for when I came back in.
Cash looks over when I enter, his usual smile curling across his face. “It’s not like you to not finish your first cup of the day,” he teases. “Were you that eager to—” He cuts himself off when he sees the look on my face.
I can only imagine what I look like right now. My skin feels cool and clammy, and my heart is hammering in my chest. I’m sure I’m pale and wide-eyed, giving away just how upset I am right now.
Everett crosses the kitchen and takes my free hand, leaning down so he can meet my eyes. “What happened?” he asks immediately. His voice is soft, but hard edged. “Harper. Are you all right?”
I drag in a breath. “I have to tell you all something.”
Cash and Lincoln come over, and Everett presses me into one of the chairs at the table. I have their full attention now, varying looks of concern on their faces.
As much as I’ve been trying to keep my past separate from my life here, I know I can’t do that anymore. If the worst happens, if it’s already happening, I need them on my side.
“I—I’ve talked to you guys about my sister a bit, right?” I start, glancing at all of them in turn.