18. Harley

EIGHTEEN

HARLEY

"Mom…" Mariah started, "…can Jordyn and I go out to a movie and dinner tonight with some friends?"

They'd been home from school for only twenty minutes when she asked. Their first week had gone remarkably well. I'd truly been scared that they would hate the new school, but as always, my daughters surprised me. They'd really taken to the kids they'd met and were home a lot less than they had been over the summer. It filled me with joy that they weren't miserable here. Plus, Tate had guys out watching them whenever they left the house. They were as safe as we could make it.

"Sure, that's fine. What are you guys seeing?" I asked.

Mariah laughed. "No idea. The movie theater only has two screens, so there are only two options. They don't even have a website. It's like this town is stuck in the nineties or something."

I didn't like the way she made the nineties sound like it was as far away as the nineteen-forties. "I grew up in the nineties, Mariah."

She looked at me like I'd said something obvious. "Right. That's what I'm saying. Ancient."

"Okay." I laughed. "That's it. No movie, no dinner, just hard labor for the next two years until you're eighteen."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to tell Jordyn we get to go," Mariah said, jogging up the stairs.

I shook my head and walked over to the window. The familiar black sedan sat halfway down the street in the driveway of a vacant home. Who did Tate have watching out for us today?

Thinking of Tate sent a delicious shiver through my body. The things he'd done on Monday night with his fingers and mouth had been beyond anything I could imagine. He'd played my body like an instrument—a well-tuned and well-practiced instrument, no less. Every time I thought about it, I wondered when it would happen again. I was like a horny teenager, but I really didn't care. It had been days, and I still found myself thinking back on that night several times a day.

Almost as though he heard my thoughts, his truck turned off the main road into our neighborhood. I'd known he was coming. He had an update on my car. It was supposed to have been done a few days ago, but some of the busted glass had gotten down into the driver's side window and ruined the electric motor. They'd had a hard time getting the part in.

He got out of the truck and walked up the steps. Even though he'd pretty much been over here almost all the time since Sunday night, he still rang the bell or knocked each time he stopped by. True to habit, he rang the bell as soon as he got to the top of the stairs. Once I let him inside, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

"Oh fine, my teenagers are being smart asses. Just another day. Did you hear about my car?"

He smiled. "Good news. They finally got that part in. It'll be ready in a couple of hours. We can pick it up today. I have to go out of town for a few days for work, so I'm going to have some of the guys pick it up and drop it off."

"You don't have to do that. I'll call Emily, she can take me out there." Emily and I had met up a few times over the last week, and I knew she wouldn't mind.

Tate frowned and pulled his phone out. "Okay, but I'm going to text you Steff and Blayne's numbers. You can call them if you have any trouble. All right?"

"That's fine, there shouldn't be any issues."

After texting me the numbers, he gave me a stern look. "I have to go pretty soon. I won't be gone long, but while I'm away, make sure you set all the alarms anytime you guys are home. Remind the girls, too."

It was cute how worried he was about us.

"Will do. Don't fret about us."

Then, as though he'd done it a million times, he stepped close to me. He slid one arm around my back, the other went to the back of my neck, and kissed me. Our tongues mingled and twisted around each other. I sank into him, my legs turning to jelly beneath me. I trembled as the memory of Monday night came back again. The way his mouth felt, his hands on my body.

Tate pulled away, gently nibbling on my lip. "I'll see you later."

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving me wet and covered in gooseflesh. All I could do was watch him walk out and close the door. I went to the window and watched him walk away, admiring the way his ass moved in his jeans. The sight gave me a pleasurable ache between my legs.

I texted Emily to see if she could give me a ride. I needed to get my mind off Tate. Emily replied that she was happy to and would pick me up in an hour. The girls got picked up for their movie and dinner about ten minutes before Emily pulled up to get me. It was good to see her, otherwise I would have sat there in the house fantasizing about Tate. A little girl time would help get my mind out of the proverbial gutter.

"Hey, girl," Emily said as I climbed in.

"Hey. Thanks for the ride. I've been miserable without a car. I really appreciate it."

Emily made a face that said it was no problem. "My pleasure. Hopefully, you'd help me out if I needed it."

"Yeah. How are things going with your grandma's place?" I asked.

She shrugged. "It's going. I've got all the final stuff together for the sale. I think I'm going to do an estate sale first, see what I can get rid of before renting a dumpster. I tell you, the worst part of selling a house is getting all the shit out of it." She put a hand on my thigh as we turned onto the main road. "Sorry I haven't been in touch the last day or two, it's been crazy getting all that stuff ready."

"Emily, seriously, it's fine. Do you want to grab dinner before we pick up my car? It's a little early, but I thought it might be nice."

"Oh, we can grab the early bird specials." Emily laughed.

"Exactly," I said.

We pulled into the diner down the street from the garage and sat down for dinner. I was having a hard time deciding what to eat. My adult brain pushed me toward grilled chicken or a salad, but the baby growing in my belly was urging me to order the chili cheese burger or the fried pickles.

"So," Emily said. "How are things with the guy?"

I put the menu down and blushed, all thoughts of food evaporated for the moment. "I'd say it's going pretty good. I told you about Monday night, right?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Uh, yeah. How have things been since then?"

"I guess I'm a little conflicted. I'm really starting to like him, but it's hard to open up to him completely. I'm worried that if I bring him fully into my life, things might go wrong. It would hurt me, and it would break the girls' hearts. They've really taken to him, and I don't know if I could live with myself if they had to lose someone they were starting to care for. I keep thinking maybe I should leave things as they are. Not go any deeper, you know?"

Emily reached across the table and took my hand. "You've got to try. It seems like this might be something special. I really think you guys can make it work. You just have to open up and let him in. Really show him how amazing you are. Tate probably sees that anyway, and he knows what he's missing out on. It's probably why he's pursuing you now more than before."

I sighed, uncertain. "Maybe, but shouldn't I try to take things slow… uh… slow er . I don't want us to start humping our brains out before truly getting to know each other."

"Take it from me, the fastest way to get to know someone is in bed. That's my personal experience. You should give it a shot. Next time you two are alone, just go to town. Surprise the shit out of him. Yank his pants down and suck on that big cock before he even knows what is happening."

I burst out laughing, my face flaming. Emily made a compelling argument. The mental image of me sliding him into my mouth sent a hot jolt through my body. She really seemed to want me to make a go of it with Tate. She seemed almost desperate to see me with him. It made me wonder how lonely she might be.

"Speaking of…" Emily said, leaning close to whisper, "…let's hear about the sex."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I glanced around to see if anyone had heard. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Spill it, sister. I heard about the tongue action, but you haven't really gone into detail about that night in New York. What was it like?"

"Oh geez, uh, it was a few months ago?—"

"Sweetie, you know as well as I do that women don't forget things like this. Was it hot and heavy? Did he like… growl or bite during sex? Animalistic stuff like that?"

Her questions were getting a little weird. I wasn't sure how to answer them. "Um, well, there's been no biting. I guess when he does get really worked up, there's some kind of growling sound he makes."

"What kind of growl? Can you describe it?"

She was making me uncomfortable. I held my hand up. "Emily, what the hell? You're getting super personal."

She seemed to realize she'd pushed a little too much. She blushed and leaned back. "I'm sorry. I've been going through a dry patch the last few months. Well… a year and a half actually. I can't help but be jealous and wanted to know all the dirty details. The closest I've had to a sexual relationship is naming my vibrator. His name is David, by the way."

I chuckled, still a little uneasy about her line of questioning. I told her it wasn't a problem. Though even after the waitress took our order and brought out our food, I couldn't shake the feeling that she'd been trying to dig some other information out of me. It left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I tried to play it off, but when she dropped me off at the auto shop, I was a little relieved to be away from her. Once she was gone, though, I felt pretty stupid for thinking that. She probably was just horny and wanted to live vicariously through a friend. I told myself to forget about it as I walked into the garage.

"Mrs. King?" the attendant asked as I walked up to the counter.

"Yes. I had the car that…" I trailed off, not knowing how to finish. You know, the car my psycho ex had trashed. I'm sure you remember, it's the one that had the word whore spray painted on it.

He nodded, and I didn't have to finish what I had been about to say. Thank God. "I gotcha. Mr. Mills came by to check on it earlier. I have you all set up."

He came around the counter with my keys. "It's in the lot out back."

I followed him through the garage and out the back bay door. He walked me to my car, and I was surprised at how good it looked. The entire exterior had been repainted. You couldn't even tell anything had happened. The attendant unlocked the door and opened it. My jaw dropped. The interior had been detailed. The carpets and upholstery looked like they'd been shampooed, and there wasn't a speck of dust or dirt anywhere inside. The whole car, literally, looked brand new.

"Wait," I said. "Is this really my car?"

He looked confused for a second and did a double take before saying, "Oh, I see. Mr. Mills paid for a full detail job. He said he wanted it perfect for when you came and picked it up. Had us go ahead and put new brakes on her, too."

I smiled to myself. It was a sweet gesture to go above and beyond like this. I thanked the clerk, then took the keys and pulled out my phone. I sent Tate a message, thanking him for taking care of things for me.

Normally he would have texted back almost immediately, but there was no response, and my phone was silent on the drive home. It got me wondering what kind of job he was on that forced him to go radio silent. Hopefully, he was safe. I didn't like thinking that he might be in danger.

The house was eerily quiet when I stepped inside. For the last several days, either the girls or Tate had been here with me. The silence was welcome, but also a little strange. Once all the doors were locked, I tried to find something to pass the time while I waited for the girls to get home.

There was literally nothing I wanted to watch, and I had no book in my to-be-read pile. After ten minutes, I decided to mop the floors. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done it, so it had to be about time for a thorough cleaning.

Once I had the mop bucket full of sudsy water, I went about cleaning the floors. The mindless work kept me busy. Moving from the living room hardwoods backward to the kitchen tile, I was both happy and disturbed to see how much cleaner they were as I worked. Apparently, teenage girls weren't good at wiping their feet.

I was backed up against the sliding patio door, dunking the mop into the bucket of water again, when I heard the sound of breaking glass. The explosive sound made me freeze. Then the sound of raining chips of glass pattering around the tile had me glancing down, scared I was going to get cut. Never in my life would I have thought to run. An icy spike of fear lodged deep in my gut when the man in the ski mask and gloves walked through the broken door. In that split second, I realized I'd set the front door alarm, but had forgotten to set the back door.

Frozen in place, I watched him step through the doorway and reach out for me. My brain was still frozen, like it was on a delay. It was still processing the sound of breaking glass and hadn't even begun to process the intruder reaching out for me. When it finally did send the signal to my legs, it was too late to run. His arm shot out like a snake and wrapped around my neck, yanking me toward him. His arm went across my throat, tightening like a steel band as he pulled me against his chest. I tried to rip away, but my feet slid on the wet floor. I stumbled, but he tightened his grip to hold me up. All the oxygen was cut off from my air canal. I gagged, trying to breathe and beating at his arm as hard as I could. Fear unlike anything I'd ever felt flooded through me. Adrenaline pumped into my body, and I clawed at his sleeve, trying to pull the arm away to catch a breath.

A whole new terror erupted when he started dragging me toward the door. He wanted to take me away, into the night, away from my home. An instinctual, animalistic panic chittered through my mind. If he took me, I would never come back, I knew it without a doubt. The pain in my neck was almost unbearable, and I wasn't able to fight back like I wanted. The pull toward the door seemed like an inexorable finale to this nightmare I was living.

He began stepping through the door, pulling at me harder, as I still tried to fight. My vision was blurring and going dark around the edges. I was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. My lungs burned and ached, every nerve in my body screaming for oxygen. He pulled me through the door, and all I could do was reach out and clutch at the frame. His pant leg hooked on a shard of glass, and he stopped to pull it free. That was when I managed to stretch the final inch I needed to grab the one thing I had left—the panic button installed on the door frame. Tate's crew had put one at every entry door and in every room.

My hand slapped at where I thought it was. I couldn't see it because of how the man was holding my neck. I couldn't find the button. I couldn't . Where the fuck was it? He freed his leg and pulled me again. I held tight with my right hand and slapped the wall one last time with my left. The tip of my ring finger brushed against the button, barely clicking it. Even a millimeter either way, and I wouldn't have activated it. I would have been taken.

The shrill, earsplitting alarm erupted like an explosion in the night. Even though I knew it was coming, it shocked me with how loud it was, immediately making me want to cover my ears. My assailant was equally surprised, and the grip around my neck loosened. Even oxygen starved and already exhausted from the struggle, I used the chance I'd bought. Planting my feet, I yanked myself forward and ripped fully out of his grip. Once I was free, I sprinted away from him. For a terrifying second, my feet slipped and slid on the wet floor, but by a miracle, I stayed upright and ran for the stairs. The attacker screamed a curse, but the alarm drowned it out. His feet pounded on the floor behind me, but he wasn't as lucky as I'd been. I heard the squeak of shoes on the wet floor and then the thunderous rattle of him falling to the ground. Grabbing the stair rail, I turned and took the steps two at a time, running with more speed and force than I knew I possessed. I came to the first room I found and ran inside, slamming the door and locking it behind me. The girls' bathroom. I sat and put my back against the door, braced my feet on the vanity, and waited.

My breath hissed madly in and out of my nose as I waited for the thumping of his feet to come up the stairs, but I didn't hear it. Had the alarm scared him off? My phone rang, and I screamed, actually screamed in fright. I put a hand to my mouth and tried not to whimper as I pulled the phone out of my jeans pocket.

Before I could say anything, Tate's voice burst from the speaker. "Harley?" he yelled. "Harley, what the hell's going on? My phone alerted me. A panic button got activated."

I took a shaking breath and said, "Tate, someone broke in. He… he… he tried to take me."

"Oh shit. It's okay, my guys got the same notification. They should be there soon. Is he still there? Do you hear anyone?"

I turned and pressed my ear to the door and listened as best I could, but I couldn't hear anything above the siren of the alarm. Almost as though the system had read my mind, the alarm abruptly stopped.

From downstairs, I heard men shouting, "Harley? Harley? It's Steff and Blayne. We're here. Harley?"

I sobbed in relief and spoke into the phone. "Tate, they're here. Your friends are here."

"Thank Christ. Let them know where you are."

I cracked the door of the bathroom. "Up here," I called.

In seconds, Blayne and Steff were in the bathroom with me. Blayne was awkwardly rubbing my back, trying to comfort me.

I put Tate on speaker. "Steff, you there?"

"Yeah, bud, we're both here," Steff said.

"Okay, cool. Don't leave until I get there. I'm on my way. Harley, did you hear that?"

Feeling more in control of myself, I said, "Yes. I'll see you soon."

"We'll be here," Steff said. "We'll work on whatever repairs we can do."

For the next thirty minutes, I sat on the couch and watched as Steff worked on the door and Blayne pulled up the security feeds from my house. Steff cleaned up the broken glass as best he could, and then called multiple hardware stores trying to find someone to come out and replace the glass or the door itself.

Blayne finally came over to me and said, "I have all the footage compiled. Do you want to look through it?"

I nodded. "Sure."

Steff came over to watch, and Blayne hit the play button. The video was in high definition and very clear, unlike a lot of security footage I'd seen on the news. The rear camera showed a shadowy figure hunched over and walking toward the back door through the shrubs behind our house. The sight of him filled me with dread. I looked down at my lap, afraid to even glance at the video.

After a few seconds, I settled myself and looked back at the footage. I could see the man trying to pull me through the door. I called him the man in my head, but I knew exactly who it was. It was Luis. Of course it was Luis. There was no other threat to me but him. The entire struggle only lasted fifteen or twenty seconds, which didn't seem right. It felt like we'd fought and struggled for minutes. How could that only have been a few seconds? Another camera outside caught sight of him sprinting away from the house. He ran down the street and jumped into a black car before speeding away.

I pointed at the car. "That's a Lexus. It's literally the only car Luis will drive. He refuses to buy anything else. He likes them black with dark tint. It has to be him."

Steff pulled out his cell and dialed. Before I knew what was happening, he was barking orders to someone, telling them the description of the car. Before I could ask any questions, the doorbell rang. Blayne got up and opened it, letting in a crew of carpenters. They were carrying a sheet of replacement glass with large suction cup holders. It had to be seven o'clock at night. How had they managed to get these guys here so fast? Again, I wondered what kind of strings Tate and his friends were able to pull to get things like this done so quickly.

Once again, my house was a hive of activity. The girls would be home in a couple of hours, and I had no idea how I would explain all this to them. It couldn't be helped, though. Instead of worrying, I watched the men at work. Steff helped the crew replace the glass. Blayne printed out pictures of the car and made some more phone calls. For about the millionth time in the last hour, I was grateful Tate had insisted on putting in the security system. Otherwise, I'd have been taken. I also chastised myself for not setting the back door alarm. Things might have gone better if I had.

Tension suddenly surged through me, and I knew without a doubt that Tate was here. He burst through the door and ran straight toward me. When he reached me, he crouched in front of me and ran his hands over my body, searching for injuries. His frenetic energy seemed to fill the room. Everyone went quiet and turned to watch him, as though they were afraid of offending him by moving while he checked me over.

"Are you all right? Is the baby okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'm good, we're good. I was pretty shaken up, but the guys took care of me."

Tate glanced at Blayne, an unspoken question on his face. The long-time friends seemed to be able to read each other's minds.

Blayne nodded. "Looks like it was the Luis guy."

"Motherfucker," Tate hissed, a look of such profound rage on his face. He looked ready to kill. "That's it. I'm moving in until this shit with Ortiz is settled."

I looked at him blankly, thinking I'd misheard him. "What? You're moving in?"

Tate raised an eyebrow. "I won't be able to sleep at night, knowing what this asshole is up to. As long as this piece of shit slime ball is out there threatening you and the girls, I'm sticking close. I'm not taking ‘no' for an answer. I'll sleep on the couch if you want me to, but I'm pretty sure the girls have figured out something's going on between us."

"Tate, it's fast. I don't?—"

He held up a hand. "I'll keep the boundaries, if it makes you feel better. Just know that I'm not leaving you all alone."

Multiple arguments spiraled through my mind, but the memory of that arm wrapping around my throat silenced them all. I had no rebuttal that wasn't pathetic or pointless, but that didn't mean I had to like Tate forcing his will on me.

"You can be one pushy bastard, you know that?" I said.

He merely shrugged. "I don't mind being pushy if it means you are all safe."

The butterflies that filled my stomach in response to his words were hard to ignore. The fact that he cared so much for us so soon was surprising. We'd really only known each other for a couple of months, and already he was ready to go to war for me and my girls. It was nice to know someone had their backs. Also, why would I deny my girls the protection Tate was offering freely?

"Okay, fine. You can stay." It was a moot point at that moment. Tate had already made up his mind, no matter what I said.