“I found out later they’d taken her to the hospital in a different ambulance. Then she—” The words caught in her throat. There were some things that she’d probably never be able to say, never be able to tell him. She’d said enough. “She passed away that night.”
Harper closed her eyes. She wore her vulnerability now, uncomfortable and tight, and the last thing she wanted to do was look Dan in the eye while it was visible—but she knew she needed to.
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
And he looked back.
She wasn’t still trapped in that car. She wasn’t still screaming and alone.
She was anchored in that tiny bathroom, secured by the strength of his eyes and the weight of his hand on her thigh. She was saying words that felt sharp enough to kill her.
But they didn’t.
His eyes didn’t drown her in pity or ask her more questions, they held her in heartbreaking tenderness—softness for all her jagged, broken edges.
Keeping his eyes locked onto hers, he lifted their joined hands and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, that single touch thanking her for her words, cherishing her pain.
“Let me take you home,” he whispered against her skin. “You’ve had a long night.”
Something desperate and sharp pierced through her, and she squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to be alone right now. If I’m alone I’ll just lie in bed and think about everything and feel worse and embarrassed and—and—” She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
“Please,” she breathed into his neck. “I feel like I kind of need you right now.” The words were raw and exposed, but she didn’t care.
Dan’s arms wrapped around her waist, fingers dancing up the notches of her spine, his touch stitching her pieces back together. Dan pushed his face into her neck and inhaled deeply.
“Whatever you want. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 19
HARPER
Harper felt lighter. Freer.
Dan now held a piece of her, and instead of feeling tethered and crushed, she felt something like joy at the release of the burden.
He led her from the bathroom, guiding her along the outskirts of the party toward the door. His warm hand splayed across her back anchored her focus, keeping her calm. The night was a disaster, but maybe it could be salvaged.
As they maneuvered around the last clumps of bodies, a blond head bobbed in front of them, blocking their escape.
Or the night could get a million times worse.
Jeffery Giles leaned against the wall, a smirk curling at his lizard-thin lips.
“Harper, what a surprise to see you in the real world. I almost didn’t recognize you without a textbook glued to your nose,” he said, eyes flicking up and down her body, “What dragged you out of your hole?”
“Oh, I get it,” Harper said, slapping a hand to her forehead. As exhausted as she felt, she dug into her energy reserves to muster up some sarcasm. “You’re making fun of me for studying so much. How disarmingly original. I’m shocked it came from you.”
“Harper, sweetheart, I would never make fun of you. I think it’s adorable how hard you try to keep pace and come in second. I guess learning just doesn’t come as naturally to some.”
Dan tensed behind her. “You can’t talk to her like that,” he said, his voice filled with warning. He slid an arm across Harper’s collarbones, holding her close against his chest. “Why don’t you step aside. We’re trying to leave.”
“And who are you?” Jeff said.
“That’s Dan Craige,” Travis chimed in, squeezing through a circle of people to clap a hand on his brother’s shoulder. They shared a weighted look, and a slimy sense of understanding crossed Jeff’s features, making Harper’s stomach curdle. She didn’t know what knowledge passed between them, but anything that gave Jeff such gross satisfaction couldn’t be good.
Harper looked around, trying to figure out the best way to push through the interested crowd eyeing them.
“Dan,” Jeff said, drawing out the name. “I’ve been waiting to meet Callowhill’s biggest letdown. So sorry about your dad, by the way. Always sad to lose a modern-day hero.” He turned his greasy grin back to Harper. “What hypocritical company you keep, Harper. I thought you got off trashing legacies like us.”
Uneasiness trickled down Harper’s spine and she looked at Dan for understanding. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she shot at the brothers, trying to keep her tone even.