“You think what happened has something to do with Nathan?”Harper’s heart pounded.
“I don’t know.I’d like to think not, but we both know he’s been able to make things happen from inside.I’m letting you know as a precaution.He isn’t out of prison so organizing this would be hard but not impossible.I’ve told the police about the confidential nature of the files.”
Harper’s hands shook.“You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”The idea that the police would end up with the laptop and find out where she was frightened her.Nathan had terrorized her; she’d been tailed at night, had received threatening letters and late-night visitors to her parents’ home.The police had pulled her over every time she went out in her car.The harassment left her emotionally vulnerable, unable to think straight or be alone.
“I didn’t mention you specifically.But I’m sure it’s on file that I’m your lawyer.You have people there you can count on, right?”
“Yeah, I do.”The lie stuck in her throat.
“Good.I’ll be in touch if anything else comes up.Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Lydia.”
Harper looked around her apartment, wrapping her arms around her middle.She was on her own.But that would make it easier to run.
Chapter Eight
She was a horrible person.The thought crossed Harper’s mind for the thousandth time that morning.Trent had done nothing more than she had thought she’d wanted.Sitting in a vintage muscle car with the hottest guy in town, she’d wanted him to drag her onto his lap and hold her tightly.Kiss her softly.
Instead, she’d freaked out as soon as his arms had wrapped around her.Sure, sitting here, looking into the third cup of coffee she’d made, it was easy to separate Trent from Nathan.
But in Trent’s car, in the dark, when she had finally released control and let emotion take over, she couldn’t distinguish the man holding her from the one who’d hurt her.The pull on her hair, gentle as it had been, had confused her.And the pressure of Trent’s hand on her back reminded her of both men.Her past and present had become one jumbled mess.
She picked up her phone and then put it down, tossing it onto the thrift store table she’d refinished herself.Would he even want to talk to her?He probably thought she was freaking crazy.
Coward.That’s what she was.Trent had told her she was brave, but she wasn’t.She avoided everything.She’d avoided the aftermath of the trial by running.She’d avoided any future run-in with Nathan by hiding a thousand miles away under an assumed name.She’d avoided having to face him by sending a victim impact statement.And she was avoiding Trent now.
It was time to accept responsibility for her future.Avoiding wasn’t going to work in her new life, and there was no time like the present to fix it.
Harper gathered her work things and headed to Second Circle.Hopping off the bus a few stops early, she meandered the boardwalk, taking the time to calm herself.The sea breeze soothed her nerves.She recalled how the high-pitched squeal of the cicadas had scared her when she’d first arrived.Now the sound was synonymous with the waterfront that she loved.
There had been moments after the attack when Harper had thought she would never get warm again.The cold Chicago winter had added a freezing layer around the cold shell she’d been wearing.Therapy had been doing little to crack through the defenses she’d put up, and her body had been slow to heal.As soon as the doctors had declared her physically healthy, she’d used cash and the bus network to make her way south to warmth.
Harper lifted her face, enjoying the feeling of late spring sunshine on her skin.
The boardwalk was her favorite place.Not that she lived too close, but it was a short hop on the bus.She’d run or walk a couple of miles on Sunday afternoons, daydreaming of taking a leisurely stroll along the stunning Atlantic Ocean in the lingering light of day with someone special.A surge of warmth flooded through her as she saw the spot where she and Trent had sat to talk a few nights before.Maybe there was still hope for them.
Nerves spurred by adrenaline, Harper approached Second Circle.Lia and Trent were outside, leaning on the window, engaged in animated conversation.Her feet turned to lead.She struggled to move forward, her brief bloom of confidence wilting faster than a flower out of water.
Lia saw her and waved, causing Trent to turn to see who was there.Lia whispered something in his ear and smiled at Harper as she turned to go back into the studio.
Hoping she could say the right thing, Harper looked up at Trent.“I screwed up.I got frightened and I ran.I’m sorry.”It all came out on one long breath.Despite the fancy words she’d thought about while walking on the beach, that’s what it boiled down to.She’d panicked, and rather than face her fears, she’d fled.
The admission was exhausting, but Trent still had a look of disappointment.“Let’s not talk about this on the street where everyone can see us, darlin’.”
He’d called her darlin’.That had to count for something, right?She followed him through the studio and he held the door to the office open for her, closing it behind them.
He still hadn’t touched her.And wasn’t it ironic that another person’s touch would actually be a good thing right now?Nor had he smiled at her or given her any other signal that this was going to be okay.
Sitting down on the sofa, he continued to study her.He was waiting for more, clearly, but Harper wasn’t sure what else there was.The silence was awkward.
“I’m sorry again.I just wanted to tell you that.And hopefully you’ll still be okay to finish my tattoo.”
His silence was starting to get to her.She walked toward the door.“I guess I should go.”
“Don’t run again.Come sit next to me.Why didn’t you just put the brakes on and talk to me?”
Harper turned to walk around the office.The question had been bugging her since the early hours of the morning.She lifted the hair off the back of her neck and twirled it into a bun before letting it go again.
