“No,” she says quickly. “I’m still waiting on confirmation. I didn’t want to tell you before I got the results.”
“What results?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know. And her wince only confirms it.
“You did a DNA test,” I say, my voice dangerously low. “Didn’t you?”
Her mouth twists. “I figured I had to be sure before I shared any of this with you.”
“I told you to let this go, Harper,” I bellow, shooting to my feet as anger surges through me. “Why was that so hard to understand? I can’t believe you took DNA from me without my consent!”
“I know it’s wrong,” she says, her voice rough, desperate. “But I needed to know. I wanted you to have all the information—”
“No,” I cut in, voice sharp as a blade. “Youwanted to know. Because you can’t stand not having the answer. You don’t care that I’ve made my peace with not knowing. You didn’t do this for me, Harper.”
Her eyes turn glassy.
“Even your boss thought you have a tendency of going too far. Maybe she had a point,” I add, stalking the length of the small room. “I can’t believe you did this.”
My world cracks open as realization sinks in. She lied to me. For weeks. Went behind my back. Investigated me like one of her stories. Took my DNA.
I sit down on the couch, dropping my head into my hands.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. The couch shifts under her weight as she sits next to me.
“Me too,” I reply hoarsely. “I just… I can’t do this anymore.” I shoot to my feet again, unable to sit still.
“No!” she cries, grabbing my arm and tugging me back down. “You said you were in. That you’d never leave me.”
Her tone is almost accusatory.
Our gazes lock, and the desperation in her eyes nearly breaks me. For a second, I almost take comfort in the vulnerability there, like it’s the proof I’ve been looking for that she likes me as much as I like her. But then, the pain in my heart takes over, and I close my eyes, unable to look at her a moment longer.
I keep my eyes screwed shut. “Because I never thought you’d do something like this,” I say, my voice cracking. “Don’t you get it, Harper? You ruined everything.”
I stand again. This time, her hand goes limp, falling away.
“So… what?” she asks, choking back tears. “You’re leaving?”
I glance down at the coffee table. The death threat peeks out from under an article about my first NHL contract.
I need to be alone. But I also wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to Harper tonight. As much as I know it’s going to cost me, I have to stay here.
“I can’t leave you alone tonight,” I say, facing her. “I’ll stay, and I’ll drive you tomorrow to the station.”
“And then what?” she nearly whispers. “You leave me there, and we never see each other again?”
I stay silent, the very thought of living without Harper shattering the broken pieces of my heart. I finally meet her eyes, and it’s as if someone is driving a blade straight through my chest.
“Then leave now.” She wipes her cheeks, tears still trickling down to her chin. “I don’t need you to stay here to protect me or whatever. I can take care of myself.”
As if I’d ever leave her alone when there’s a threat on her life.
“No,” I say. “I’m staying.”
27
Harper
