Pretend You're Mine(126)

And strike he had. Not just with his fists. He had cut Harper to the quick with his accusation. He saw the sting of his words register on her face just before Linc came at him. He was nothing without his control. But she had taken him past his limits before.

It wasn’t her fault. The blame fell on his shoulders.

He owed her an apology. Ty one, too. And while he was at it, he could throw one in for Linc, but probably not. Even if the man did have a point. He let Harper go. What did he expect?

Didn’t she deserve to be happy, to be loved, to have someone remind her to wear a damn coat when it snowed?

“Where’s your coat?” He regretted the harshness in his tone, but not being able to control himself was par for the course with Harper.

She shrugged. “Your house.”

Along with everything else she owned. Waiting.

“I’ll drop it off. I can bring the rest of your stuff.”

Harper was already shaking her head. “Joni doesn’t need —”

The song “Bad Boys” shrilled from her phone. Luke saw the flash of pure panic and watched as her fingers fumbled on the screen in her haste to answer.

“Hi. Hey,” she said, spinning away, clutching her phone to her ear.

“No, I didn’t get it. I moved.” Her eyes darted to Luke and away again. She lowered her voice. “I know. I’m sorry. It was kind of sudden.”

She listened in silence for a moment and he swore every ounce of color drained from her face.

“He’s getting out? When?” She sank down on a narrow bench next to the window.

She bit her lip and looked his way again, her gaze darting away when she saw him watching. Linc shoved a bag of lettuce at him. “Keep up, bro.”

“Give me a minute ... and don’t call me bro.”

“Fine. Keep up, dick.”

Luke stepped closer to Harper, but couldn’t catch much. She was arguing quietly now. “You don’t need to come here to play bodyguard — I can protect myself ...”

After another minute of whispering, she hung up and without a word hurried out of the store.

“Where’s she going?” Linc demanded, coming up next to Luke. “She forgot her stuff.”

***

Of course she wasn’t answering his texts. Frustrated, Luke tossed his cellphone on the passenger seat. His debt to Val’s Groceries paid, he volunteered to haul Harper’s groceries with him so he could personally deliver them.

He’d swing by the house first to get her damn coat.

He couldn’t get her reaction to the mystery phone call out of his head. Harper wasn’t one to be afraid of anything. Luke worried what would have caused a reaction like that.

Leaving the groceries in his truck, he went inside and dug through the boxes until he found a belted black wool coat. He held it to his face and breathed in her scent.

Feeling pathetic, he folded the coat and put it on the dining room table. He would pack a few sweaters for her, too, so she didn’t freeze her ass off. She should have some kind of ski jacket, too, he thought. Maryland winters weren’t exactly balmy. Maybe he could find a decent one at the outlet —

Christ, what had this woman done to him? They weren’t even together anymore and here he was planning a fucking shopping trip. He was losing his damn mind. Any progress he’d made toward shutting thoughts of her out was lost after today. One look at her and he was back to the beginning.

He threw two sweaters on top of the coat on the table. Enough was enough. After he found out what was going on with her, he’d take her stuff to the office to store until she left.

He remembered the growing stack of mail that he’d ignored in the kitchen all week. He’d check it for anything for her and then head over to Joni’s. One last time to see her, make sure she was okay, and then leave her alone forever.

Luke flipped through the pile, tossing junk mail in the recycling can as he went. There were two envelopes addressed to Harper.

A red stamp on the first caught his eye. Victim Services. He felt his heart start to pound. The second envelope was hand addressed to Harper and had a small ink stamp in the corner.

Mailed from a state correctional institution.

There was something familiar about that second envelope, something that he couldn’t quite pull to the surface. There was no name in the return address. Luke pulled out his phone and looked up the address online. Sussex Correctional Institution.

He dialed Harper. When her voicemail answered he swore and hung up.

Drumming his fingers on the counter, he weighed his options. There was no way she was going to tell him what was going on. But if she was in danger, he needed to know.

“Fuck it.” Luke shredded the envelope and yanked out the piece of notebook paper inside. A cold fury washed over him and made his hands shake. There was no name. Just “Daddy.”