"I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, whispering in my ear, his hand scrunching my hair. My cheek is pressed firmly to his chest.
"Me too,” I reply, trying to keep my tears hidden as I reluctantly pull away from him.
Sensing my hesitation, he eases his grip, letting me go, but I know he doesn’t want to. I don’t want him to let me go, either, but I don't think he's going to want to hold me after what I have to tell him.
"Are we okay?” he asks, with his voice still soft, but I can hear the doubt and reluctance in it, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
"I hope so.” Shrugging, I take his hand in mine, leading him to sit on the couch beside me.
I don’t want to beat around the bush.
I want to cut to the chase and leave no stone unturned. But before I tell him everything I found out a week ago, I need to know whatheknows about it.
"Tell me about your injury,” I say to him, watching as his body stiffens. Reaching my arm out to hold his hand, to reassure him that it’s okay to talk about.
"What do you want to know?” he asks.
"I know it wasn’t caused during a game. I want to know if you know who did it to you,” I say, taking a deep breath, eyes caged in on his.
Something flashes across his face.
Confusion, maybe?
But he shakes it away before finally opening up to me.
"We had just won the championships. Robbie and I had gone out to celebrate at a local sports bar and got attacked on our wayout,” he says, clenching his jaw at the memory. "I only knew the name of one offender, because the owner of the bar shouted it when she said she was calling the cops.” His tone is steady as he rises from the couch to make himself another drink, only this time its water.
"What was the name you heard?” I press him for more.
"Monty, and I’m pretty sure he’s in jail still,” he says mindlessly as he turns off the tap.
"Chad Montgomery. Austin’s college roommate.”Hearing those two names together does something to Harley. His glass of water slips from his grip, shattering on the wooden floor at his feet. His once-golden face now pale, staring back at me in disbelief.
Instead of leaving him to wonder and try to fill in the blanks on his own, I tell him everything.
From my conversation with Alison at the cafe, to meeting up with Austin on the rooftop and piecing it all together with Jenna. All the while he stands silently, letting me finish, not interrupting me once.
Not a single word the entire time.
He broke eye contact with me a while ago, too.
"Harley?” I ask, hoping for something. Anything at all.
"I have to go,” he finally says, collecting his keys, storming out the door.
Fumbling for my phone in my bag, I dial the one person who knows Harley better than he knows himself.
Bea.
"I need you to do something for me,” I say, trying to remain calm as I shut Harley’s apartment door, locking it behind me.
"What is it?” she asks.
"Go to Max Anderson’s house. I think Harley is on his way there, and I have a feeling Max isn’t going to like what he has to say.”
"I’m on my way.”
forty
