"Harper." My voice comes out rough. "Is that you?"
The breathing collapses into full-blown sobs.
"Baby, talk to me."
I keep myself calm. But on the inside, I’m panicking like fuck.
I rub at my chest. That ache is there. I press my hand flat against the hitching rail to hold myself upright because my knees are threatening to give out.
She's crying. Harper is crying, and I'm hundreds of miles away, and I can't hold her, and I can't fix it, and I can't?—
"I-I need you, Ace. Please." Her voice is wrecked. The ghost of a voice that used to be full of fire and sass.
My heart slams against my ribs.
"He's dead. I k?—"
"Stop, sweetheart. Don't." I cut her off. "Don't say another word. Not on the phone. Just take a deep breath for me."
I don't know who's listening. I don't know if her phone is compromised. I don't know anything except that the woman I love just tried to tell me she killed someone, and I need her to stop talking before those words exist anywhere but between us.
She tries to breathe. Chokes on it. Tries again.
"I don't know what to do, Ace." A whisper. "I just need you. Please. Please help me."
That word.Please.The same word she said on the ridge. The same word she said in the barn. The same word she's been saying, in different ways, for six years. Every unanswered text, every ignored call, every silent night, all of them were just different ways of sayingplease.
And I told her I was done. I told her it was over. I told her to let me go.
Fuck that. Fuck every word of it. Me and her will never be over. There is no end to our love. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.
I take a deep breath. Close my eyes. And there is only one answer. There has only ever been one answer. Since Iwas sixteen years old and a girl with honey-blonde hair and a crooked smile sat next to me in English class and changed the entire trajectory of my life, there has only been one answer to every question Harper Jones has ever asked me.
Yes.
"I'm coming, Harper. I'll get the jet, and I'll be there in two hours. Are you safe?"
"Y-yes. I am now."
I am now.Three words that gut me. Is she safe because Hudson is dead? Or because I’m coming for her?
And I nearly didn't pick up. Yesterday, when she called, I didn’t answer. I should have fucking known it was her. My gut was screaming at me. I should’ve known when she looked like a ghost walking down the aisle towards him.
"Good girl. Just sit tight. Stay in your room and text me the address. I'll be there as quick as I can."
"I'm sorry, Ace." The sobs crack open again. "I'm so sorry. For everything. For leaving. For the wedding. For not calling sooner. For all of it. I'm sorry."
Every word is a blade. Not because she's hurting me, but becauseshe'shurting. Because this woman has spent six years apologizing for loving me too much and not enough and in all the wrong ways, and she's still apologizing from the floor of whatever nightmare she's trapped in.
"Stop apologizing, Goldie. You hear me? I don't want your sorry. I want you safe. That's it. That's all I've ever wanted."
I just want her.
She cries harder. And I stand there, gripping the rail, staring at the mountains, listening to the woman I love fall apart hundreds of miles away and feeling every sob in my own chest like a fist.
"Two hours, baby. That's all. Two hours and I'm there. I’ll fix this."
I’ll fix anything. There isn’t a line I wouldn’t cross to make sure she’s okay. I’d give up my damn life for this woman and die happy.
