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"Are you serious? You don't get to ask me that," she added, voice getting tight.
"What other explanation can there be?"
"The real one," I told him. "She returned our dog that ran off, then stayed for a party we were having. She had a seizure, so she rested here for a bit after almost drowning from falling in the pool during it. And she happened to be here when some of those people I mentioned decided to make a move. I'm guessing they saw her here, and made assumptions like you are doing."
"Shit. You had a seizure and you didn't tell me?"
"I don't call you every time."
"Yeah, no. Not lately," he agreed, tension slipping into his voice.
"Because you overreact," she told him, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, Harm, because, unlike you, I've had to watch that shit. And it's scary. So I worry, okay? You need to tell me when you've had a seizure. Especially if you almost drown."
"Okay," she agreed, chastened. And, to be fair, having seen the seizure myself, I had to side with Jones. She shouldn't be alone after that. She should have someone around to give a shit, to get her some pain meds, to be around if she needs something.
"Now, back to people targeting my sister."
"We're handling it," I told him, nodding.
"By swimming laps?" he asked, glancing between his sister and me.
"Waiting for some information to come in," I told him.
"Jones, if they say they're handling it, let it go," Harmon insisted. "This isn't exactly your area of expertise," she added.
"Protecting you isn't my area of expertise?" he asked, sounding a mix of hurt and angry.
"I didn't mean it like—"
"Speaking of the family," he went on, cutting her off, tone still cold. "You never responded to Grandmother's letter."
"Oh, God," Harmon said, grimacing. "Is it that time of the year again?"
"You have to go," Jones insisted. "For mom, if nothing else."
To that, Harmon's face fell, fighting some internal battle I knew nothing about.
And the fucked part? I wanted to know about it.
"I know," Harmon agreed. "I just... this whole thing is happening. I'm really not supposed to be going anywhere right now..."
"You can go. If I go with you," I said.
Wait. No. What the fuck?
There was no way I was offering to escort her to some family event.
Except, that was exactly what I was doing.
"Really?" Harmon asked, brows furrowing as she looked at my profile.
"Yeah. You got shit to do, you got to do it. But you can't do it alone."
"You're sure?" she asked. "It's not an easy process. I have to walk to the train station, take the train, then walk again. It's a long day and it sucks."
It sounded like a logistical nightmare. But I had some ideas to try out. And if those failed, we could figure it out.
"I have a high tolerance for bad days," I told her, shrugging.
"Does he own a suit?" Jones asked, giving Harmon a knowing look.
"A suit? In this weather?" I asked, sure they were fucking with me.
"Yeah. Our family is, ah, extra," Harmon said, face guarded. "It's a dress-up thing when we all get together."
So not only did she have to go through some fucked up routine to avoid getting in a car, but she had to do it in a dress and heels.
"Alright. Well, I will dig out a suit," I agreed.
"And tell them what? That you're her bodyguard?" Jones asked, brow raised.
"You'll tell them we're together," I said, ignoring Che's gaze on me. "That will probably require less question answering than a bodyguard."
"That's probably best," Harmon agreed, refusing to look at me.
"When is this thing?"
"Three days from now. One in the afternoon. Same place as always," Jones said, and I got the feeling he was deliberately keeping me out of the loop, that there was something they weren't telling me.
"Okay. We'll be there," Harmon said, sounding like she was agreeing to a root canal without anesthesia.
"Okay. I'll tell them," Jones said. "Are you sure you're okay here? You can come back with me. I can keep you away from all of this."
"She's not going anywhere," I objected, taking a half step forward.
"What? She has no say in her life now? "Jones asked, chin lifting.
"She has choices. But staying here is non-negotiable right now."
That stance made no sense. There was some logic to her going with her brother, getting away from the club.
"We don't know how closely she's being watched. If she went with you and a group of men with guns showed up at your apartment door, how would you be able to protect her?" I asked.
"Fair point," Jones agreed, even though it was clear he didn't like the fact that he couldn't protect someone he clearly cared about. "Do you need anything?" he asked, looking at his sister. "More oil? Joints?"
"Jones!" Harmon snapped, looking around in a way that could only be called guiltily. As if anyone there would judge her for smoking. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. They've been good to me," she said, shaking her head. "And I haven't been bad," she added, voice going smaller, not liking bringing attention to her issues.
