The talk moves away from that and back to who could be doing this, but we just don't know enough about Harlow’s mom to make any guesses, so we're stuck waiting for Dec’s PI to get us some info. Thomas said he’s working an angle too, so it’s a waiting game for now. It’s never taken a Summers this long to get information; Dec’s PI is usually reliable, so something has to be wrong there, but we’ve just had too much drama going on to stop and dig into it as much as we should have. Like right now, with Dec needing to find our runaway girl.
He leaves not much later, wanting to get back to the house to check on Harlow. As much as he seems to be uncomfortable, he’s in. He just needs to admit it to himself. Thomas will be the hardest nut to crack, but we’ve got time. I think if he just spends more time around her, the decision will be made for him; she’s just that kind of person.
The others trail after him until it’s just me and Oliver left. He starts to say something, but I put a finger up to his lips. “I want this conversation, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Can we table it until tomorrow?” The relief in his eyes hits me in the gut, and I feel an incredible amount of shame. I have so much to make up for.
“Of course,” he assures me, and those beautiful brown eyes framed by his black glasses and his warm hand in mine are the last things I see and feel as darkness surrounds me.
* * *
Harlow
Iwasn't able to get a hold of Chuck, and it occurred to me once I got to Shane and Alex’s and had put the address into the on-board navigation system, that it was probably too late to organize a truck for tomorrow anyway.
Once I finally get on the road, I realize how late it is; street lights are on, and the sun has almost set. There's only a slice of light left on the horizon. Thankfully, traffic has thinned, so it only takes me forty-five minutes to drive home. Shit,home! That really is what I consider it now, or one of them anyway. Chuck and Melinda’s will always be home too.
As I drive along the highway, my mind is at war with my heart, not knowing which has more ground to stand on right now. The swirling emotions are too overwhelming, and I haven't felt like this in such a long time. Not since I was a teenager, dealing with all my mother’s wishy washy bi-polar crap. Back then, I struggled to deal with things in a healthy way. I’m honestly not sure how many times my teenage nights ended with the last sip of a bottle. The night that Max and I were arrested for partying was the first big sign that I wasn’t making the best choices, but it took a little while for Chuck and Melinda to realize that they needed to step in and put their foot down, insisting I start talking to a therapist.
By the time I’d gotten well into my freshman year of college, I’d calmed down on the drinking, but booty calls were still on the table. As I’d told Alex what feels like forever ago, I was too busy with my classes to get experience withrealrelationships, so hookups became my way to escape the stress and work out some of my tension. By far, I find the sex to be a healthier way to deal than the drinking, not to mention much more fun. In any case, with all the feelings whirling through me right now, I am desperate for an outlet. Unfortunately for me, my only options at the moment are battery operated.
I’m following the instructions of the recorded voice, my body on autopilot while my mind is otherwise occupied, when a helicopter flies low across my path. It scares the shit out of me, causing my foot to slam on the break a bit too abruptly for comfort, before it disappears into the distance. I couldn’t make out any markings or numbers, so I cant’t report them, but I fucking would have if I could.
As I pull up outside the stables once more, the Summers’ truck is there and waiting for the horses to be loaded into it in the morning. Josh must have gotten it set up after they had dealt with all the saddles and tack we left behind in our dash to the hospital.
I pull the parking brake on the BMW and climb out, stretching. My bones are aching, and my soul is weary after the emotional wringer we’ve been through today. A hug from DS and Jenny is just what I need before heading inside to bed. Josh had messaged me earlier, assuring that all the horses were happy and safe back home, so I didn't need to worry about them.
Sliding open the door to the stables, a scream escapes when a man steps out of the shadows. He quickly dives toward me, slapping a hand over my mouth. “Fucking hell, Harlow, do you want to wake Josh and the other stablehand?” Declan's voice is low and growly in my ear, and he has me pinned to the wall, his body pressed up against mine. My heart beat slows once I realize who it is, but then I push him away, hissing at him.
“Good one, fuck knuckle, did you forget I have a stalker? You’re lucky I didnt have a fucking gun in my hand to shoot you!”
I can’t see his face clearly, but he runs his hands through his hair as he steps back. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” I turn around and reach out to flip the light switch, not sure how to deal with getting an apology from a Summers. Jacinta being nice? Holden being shot? The revelations about Oliver and Holden’s relationship? And now an apology. This day is trying to completely break my brain and drive me mad.
“Why were you sitting here in the dark, and how did you get here before me?”
“I didn't want to give you a chance to turn and run away, and the helicopter, of course.” My temper fires up again with his answers.
“Was that you who buzzed me back on the road?” I growl at him. “You’re fucking lucky I didnt have an accident!”
This time, he snorts, his expression lighting up a little. “That was you? That was just unlucky timing. I was pissed off and decided to take it out on an unsuspecting driver. It was stupid, but it did make me laugh. A little distraction from today. Look, I think we both know this day has been much longer than we all thought possible, and once I got up in the air, I realized I left Princess and her kittens alone much longer than expected, on top of everything else.”
There’s no apology in his tone, but he does seem to be owning up to his actions, and I know how much he loves his cat, so I honestly believe he’d be upset by that. Before I can chastise him any further, he crowds close to me once more. Obviously, he’s realized that I’m over the fright. But now that I can see his eyes, I can tell he’s pretty fucking pissed.
“Now, little girl, we need to have a chat. Did it not occur to you somewhere in that pea-sized brain of yours that once everyone realized you had disappeared, they would panic, thinking that maybe your stalker had gotten you? You didn't have a single thought for the people you left behind, just did what you wanted like the selfish bitch you are,” he grinds out in his fury. A wave of guilt hits me, covering the anger that had been running hot moments before. “You’re just lucky that I walked out onto the balcony to call the detective and saw you leave. They’re all still worried, but not as much as they would be if we couldn't have found you.” His hands are on my arms now, and he’s practically shaking me. “Do you know what that would have done to Nana or Poppy or Dad? How can you be so fucking selfish?”
Before I can answer, he smashes his mouth down on mine and proceeds to punish me with his lips. Nipping at my lips and lashing me with his tongue, the kiss is full of heat and fury. I melt into his body and take every bit of punishment that he’s giving me. Every bit of worry and concern leaks out of my brain until there’s nothing left but a lust-filled fog that is being fueled by this man. Right now, I don't care that he hates me or that we’re enemies. I’m diving head first into my old habit of letting sex push my feelings away, and there’s no part of me that gives a single fuck.
Our mouths stay fused together while our hands fumble at each other's clothes. The sound as I slide the zipper of his jeans down echoes in my ears as he hikes my sun dress up and over my head. The groan that escapes his mouth when he sees I'm not wearing a bra spurs me on, and I try to shove his jeans down. His big hands come up and palm my breasts in our frenzy, and when he pinches at my nipple, it’s my turn for a moan to escape.Fuck, that feels good.My panties are wet, and my core clenches in need as I shove my hand into his briefs, grasping his thick length in my hand and stroking it with a firm grip. He quivers against me as his knees threaten to buckle at the sensation, and a wicked grin crosses my mouth when he pulls away from me. He moves down my body, taking one of my nipples into his mouth as his hand pushes aside my panties and strokes a finger through my folds.
“You're so wet for me.” Ragged breaths follow those words as I continue to stroke his cock, swiping my finger across the top to use the bead of precum to help with the slide. His finger moves to my clit, using the gathered juices to slide across it, causing my toes to curl.
Pulling his mouth away from my breast, he removes his finger and pulls my panties down, leaving me naked before his very eyes. Eyes that are still filled with anger and so much desire.I do love a good anger fuck.
He shoves his jeans down, his eyes not leaving mine, and lifts me, holding me against a stable wall. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I grab a handful of his hair and put my mouth to his ear. “Fuck me like you hate me, Declan. I’m sure it won't be too hard.”
He lines himself up to thrust into me, his tip nudging at my entrance, and my toes curl in anticipation of the burn, but before he can, a clattering sound outside the building has us both freezing.
“Fuck, did anyone else come home with you?” I whisper in his ear, the heat of the moment being replaced by fear.
Chapter Four
