Chapter 30

HARPER

M y head was pounding. I could barely open my eyes to a squint. The sun was beaming through the curtains, assaulting my heated face.

"Gah!" I grumbled incoherently. Finally, I opened my eyes, taking in the surroundings. I looked around an unfamiliar room. In a stupor, I looked under the blanket for any tell-tell signs of what happened last night. When I looked down at my body, I was wearing what I could only assume was Jasper's T-shirt because I was lying in his bed, in his room.

Oh my god! What the actual fuck did we do?

I jumped to my feet and looked around the room. Jasper must have already gotten up because he was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed my dress and shoes from the floor and raced from his room. I ran down the hall into my room, yanking off his shirt, walked straight to the bathroom, and turned on the shower. I paced the marble floors back and forth as the room filled with steam while I tried to recall what happened.

"The last thing I remember was eating a burger and drinking a glass of champagne as I teased Jasper about ordering something that looked like raw meat," I said out loud as I bit my thumbnail down to a nub.

Finally pulling myself back from my panic, I got into the shower. Standing under the water flow, letting it beat down on me, I hoped the motion of the shower would wash away the panic and shame I felt for drinking. My vulnerability could have been like a damn target on my back, I knew better. Not remembering, not knowing if I had or had not slept with Jasper was overwhelming.

After entirely dissecting my situation in a panicked frenzy, I felt a hot anger rising. How dare he take advantage of me like that! Yes, I drank and yes, I allowed myself to drink past my limit, but he should have known better.

I shut off the water, grabbed one of the fancy towels neatly folded near the shower, and headed into the room. On the nightstand were two aspirin with a note that said, "Eat me" and a bottle of water with a note that said, "Drink me". I obeyed the notes because my head was downright killing me. I quickly got dressed and combed my hair.

* * *

Turning the corner from the lengthy hallway, the aroma of bacon from the kitchen struck me. I was confused about who could be cooking since Jasper had always arranged for breakfast to be delivered to us during my stay in the penthouse. Getting closer, a soft grunting sound became audible. Entering the kitchen, I saw Jasper by the stove, nursing a burn on his finger, caused by the sizzling bacon. "Damn you, swine!" he cursed, eyes fixed on the smoking skillet.

I giggled at such a big, muscular, tatted-up man whining about a little grease burn. He looked at me and dropped his hand from his mouth. "Too late, big baby, I've already seen you," I teased. He grinned, making his dimples more prominent behind his scruffy facial hair. He must not have been awake long because he was still in his night pants and a T-shirt, and his hair was disheveled from sleep.

His t-shirt exposed all the art displayed across both arms, the sleeves of his shirt, were strained against his biceps and stretched across his shoulders with every movement his arms made.

Lord, this man is so attractive.

I realized I was gawking at him and had to force my jaw shut but he was already staring at me with a knowing smirk.

Pompous asshole.

"You see something you like?" He teased me. I was suddenly reminded of my anger.

"No, but you did, didn't you?" I snapped. "Do you pride yourself in gaining trust from women and then taking advantage of them?"

The look on Jasper's face was unreadable. I glared at him waiting for an answer.

"What is it that you think we did, Doll?" His unnervingly calm question left me speechless.

"I-I don't know exactly."

"So, don't you think you had better figure it out before you accuse me of something like that?" He retorted with one eyebrow raised as he walked over to the bar where there were two plate settings I hadn't noticed before.

He silently placed the almost burned bacon onto the plates straight from the pan, giving me a moment to reflect on his question.

"Sorry," I said in an embarrassed whisper. "I woke up in your bed and your shirt. I assumed… I should have asked, I apologize." I said more confidently. He stopped, became motionless, and then raised his eyes to meet mine.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You have every right to be angry," he turned around to grab another skillet from the stove while leaving the nearly blackened one behind. He walked back to the bar and spooned what looked like scrambled eggs onto the plates. Confused, I stood there watching him.

"Sit, please, eat. Do you like orange juice?" He walked over to the sink, dropped the skillet, and grabbed two crystal glasses from the cabinet. He joined me at the bar sitting on the tall stool beside me.

"We didn't sleep together, Harper. You went in there instead of your room when we got home. I gave you a shirt to sleep in and left you alone. I slept on the sofa." He gestured towards the living room, where a pillow and neatly folded blankets lay at the end of one of his comfy couches.

"Tell me, would it have been so terrible if we had?" He asked, barely able to look me in the eyes.

I took a piece of bacon from my plate and snapped it in half. It made a loud crunching sound. I watched the pieces crumble and fall to my plate.

Without looking in his direction, I stated: "I just needed this time to…be with my…consent." I whispered, instantly regretting every word as it left my mouth. I picked up my fork and pushed eggs around my plate, to escape his gaze.

I felt his blue eyes staring. I turned to look at him, his eyes full of questions. "Who hurt you, Harper?" He spoke through clenched teeth, the anger radiating around him.

I don't know what came over me, or why I felt the need to open up to this man I barely knew, but the words tumbled from my mouth like a dam breaking. At that moment, over breakfast.

"When I was 16 years old, I was hanging out at Aster's house, like most days. My mom called Aster's mother and said there was a family emergency, and I was to go straight home.

Our houses were only a short walk away from each other. During the daylight, I'd usually walked through a small alleyway which cut the walking distance in half. I never walked it at night because there was little light, and it was secluded. That night after my mother's call I was anxious to get home so I braved the alleyway.

Just as I walked to the end, two huge men walked from either side blocking my way out. I had no time to react before one of them hit me over the head with something, and the next thing I knew I was in the trunk of a car."

I put my hands over my face and began to sob. The memories of what those men did to me, started to roll back into my mind, as fresh as they were the day they got there.

"They took me to an abandoned warehouse, where they tied me up and beat me, and they…they," I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't want to relive it.

My sobs became uncontrollable. I was shaking and crying. I found it hard to catch my breath.

Jasper's chair skidded across the floor and landed against the marble behind him as he stood; He grabbed my hands and turned me to face him. I couldn't look at him. I knew if I looked into his eyes, I would see the same thing as anyone else, so I was forced to tell this story. Pity.

I don't want to be pitied. I was pitied by the officers who took the call that day, and by the staff who cared for me through my recovery after I suffered severe dehydration along with internal lacerations and bruising. Pitied by the social worker who questioned me when my parents were nowhere to be found. Pitied by my peers and teachers when I was finally released to go back to school. pitied by Aster and her parents when they helped me pack up my things to move in with them once the judge declared my mother and father missing persons. I didn't need any more pity from anyone.

I threw my head into Jasper's chest and sobbed until I could stop myself long enough to continue. Something in me wanted Jasper to know the truth, the whole truth.

I turned my head, laying my cheek against his chest. The feeling of his beating heart calmed me.

"I was chained in that warehouse for ten days. Every day, I plotted my escape. Every day I became weaker physically but that only caused the men to become relaxed and lose focus. Once I found an open opportunity I took it. I escaped and I didn't look back. By the time I got away, and the police returned to the scene they were gone, and the warehouse was set on fire destroying any DNA, or fingerprints, everything was gone. They got away with it, Jasper. They destroyed my life and took my innocence, and they got away with it. Now I'm broken. I'm so broken, no matter what I do, no matter, how badly I want to, I can't fix it."

When I let that last part slip from my mouth in a whisper, I realized, I had never said that out loud. I've consistently kept my feelings to myself, pushing forward with the hope that staying silent would mean they'd never become an obstacle. I was wrong because I carried it on my shoulders every day.

Jasper used two fingers to pull my chin upwards to meet his gaze. When my eyes met his, I didn't see pity as I expected. Instead, I saw something else. I saw anger, I saw sorrow, and something I wasn't quite sure of but, not an ounce of pity.

"Is that what you see when you look at yourself, Harper?" Jasper asked in a gentle voice.

"Yes," I whispered through silent tears. It's what I've seen for the last eight years.

A broken girl.

"Listen to me Harper," he demanded.

He stared into my eyes like he was searching for something but only for a minute before he leaned his forehead against mine, "If you are broken, you are beautifully broken. That only means you were too unique to be bound together by someone else's mold. Someone else's idea of who Harper is. Who Harper should be. Instead of trying to fix you, try creating something new, something better. You are strong, too strong to stay broken." He said, in a breathy whisper.

How he spoke gave a sense that, deep down, his feelings mirrored my own. It was as if he too, was broken, for his own reasons.

"Are you broken, Jasper?" I asked him and secretly I was hoping I already knew the answer. It would explain so much to me, and make whatever was happening between us, the connection or chemistry, or whatever it is, make sense.

He paused, with a long silence. A silence that was so loud. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

He reached up and cupped my cheek with his palm before he let his lips lock onto mine. My mind told me to stop this, to back away and go somewhere else, anywhere but right here, but I didn't move.

I let him kiss me.