And with Harlow sounding so steely and heartbroken on the phone, Simon got the impression that he wasn’t going to act very favorably toward the people who were harboring his daughter.
“Then can you call him?” Jayne asked. “Phones exist, you know. If you’re working for him anyway then you have his number, right?” Jayne’s expression clouded. He glanced at Shep’s bedroom door again. “But how weird is it that Evelyn would come here, of all places, when you work with her father. You didn’t have anything to do with this, right?”
“Of course I didn’t.” The notion was absurd. Simon pressed his lips together and balled his hands into fists, but found himself unable to explain why he was getting defensive over Jayne’s accusation. “I’m just… I’m just as confused as you are! But we need to figure something out, because if Harlow finds her here—and hewillfind her, whether it’s here or somewhere else—then we’re going to be in big trouble.”
“But he’s not going to kill us,” Jayne said flatly. “That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think? The media would be all over it. He’d go to jail faster than I would if I violated HIPAA regulations. He’s not going to go that far, Simon. He’s going to want to work with us to get it sorted out.”
Maybe Jayne was right. Harlow was a highly skilled, finely tuned instrument of destruction, but he was a rational human being as well—a man with whom Simon had rapport. They’d never met face to face, but once Simon explained who he was, and that he meant Evie no harm, then Harlow would flash him a smile made of sunshine, just like the ones that turned Simon to mush that he looked at from time to time online, and all would be forgiven. They’d laugh it off. Harlow would ruffle his hair and scold him for not figuring it out sooner, and Simon would apologize up and down and ramble until Harlow tugged him close and kissed him quiet.
That last part probably wouldn’t happen, but Simon could dream.
“So, are you going to call him?” Jayne asked. “He’ll probably be happy to know his daughter is safe and with a friend. I know that if Shep was some kind of teen celebrity, I’d be shitting myself if he was missing right now. Especially if he was a girl. People are messed up.”
“Ba dahba ba,” Parker agreed. He laughed, then grabbed onto Jayne’s jaw.
“Yes, very insightful, Parker,” Jayne agreed with kindhearted enthusiasm. “Thank you for that thought. I agree.”
“I’ll call him right now.” Simon patted down his pockets and found his phone, then fumbled to remove it. His hands shook, but he knew that there was nothing to fear. Once again, Jayne had come to the rescue with his levelheadedness. Always the smartest, the wisest, the prettiest… and Simon, the one who was too quiet, too shy, and too easily befuddled, was always the one forgotten.
“What a day, isn’t it, Parker?” Jayne asked softly. He lifted Parker up, which made Parker coo with adoration. “Do you want to go meet a celebrity? Your uncle Shep brought one home. Isn’t that exciting?”
While Parker babbled an agreement, Simon escaped down the hall and sat on the living room couch. His heart pounded as if he’d just run a race, and a sickly sensation settled low in his stomach and twisted him up from the inside. The stress of knowing that Harlow was on his way—potentially to murder them—mixed with inescapable feelings of worthlessness as he faced a long-suffered truth: Jayne was better than him in every way. When Harlow came to collect Evie, it would be Jayne’s charisma that would capture his attention, and Jayne’s looks that would steal Harlow’s heart. Simon, too shy to do anything but ramble incoherently, would receive a sympathetic smile, and maybe a few kind words about how nice it was to finally match a face to a name. He’d watch while his older brother enchanted Harlow, then brought him to bed and destroyed every fantasy that Simon had ever had.
Then what?
For the last few years, Harlow had been Simon’s escape from the tedium of life. If Jayne took that from him, what would be left?
Heart aching, Simon looked down at the screen of his phone, then traced his fingers down the display. Harlow was on his way whether he called or not—Simon had already inadvertently made sure of that. But if he didn’t call, if he let Harlow storm the apartment and take Evie back by force…
Guilt overshadowed his nausea. How could he even think that? Was his obsession with Harlow really worth more than his own family?
No.
Never.
Even if Jayne tore his heart out of his chest, dissected it, then burned all the tiny pieces, Simon would still love him. He’d still stick up for him. He’d defend him with everything he had.
Jayne and Shep were all he had left. He wouldn’t give them up. Not now, not ever.
Simon unlocked his phone. He made the call.
Whether it broke Simon’s heart or not, Harlow deserved to know.
