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She waved out a hand, palm upward. “I spoke to Heath, who you know is a detective, but apart from a few questions, no, there’s been nobody else.”
Her father stared at her a moment. “If anyone contacts you in relation to anything to do with this mess, I want to know.”
“Why?” Now he was concerned?
“Because he’s your father, and he’s anxious for you. Following his wishes isn’t too much to ask, is it?” her mom asked.
Aware of Sienna and Lance sitting opposite, and not wanting to share anything further, Harper shrugged. “Fine, I’ll let Dad know.” Maybe. She added to herself. But seriously, what was the likelihood of any more of this mess involving her?
And now her dad was all worried about her welfare? What was that all about?
Her silver spoon glinted under the lights as she cut through the softening sorbet and popped it in her mouth.
Then the stark truth hit her, stealing her breath. She swallowed her mouthful of sorbet, not even noticing the taste.
A person showed concern by their actions.
Seth had organized for cameras to be installed at her home, risking her anger and not backing down. He did so because her safety mattered. To him.
Her dad, on the other hand, had done…nothing.
Was she a horrible person for making the comparison?
Possibly. But at least she wasn’t a fool.
So why did her dad want to know if anyone, especially law enforcement, had contacted her?
And why was Seth concerned about what she’d tell her dad?
She wouldn’t get any answers, at least on the latter, until Seth returned on Sunday.
She stabbed an orange segment with a dessert fork. The sooner Seth and his brothers caught the creep making the posts the better for everyone.
* * *
Harper wasn’t sure what woke her up, but the instant her eyes opened, her body tensed beneath the sheets. She heard a faint click of her front door then the soft tread on the polished wood of her hallway.
Her stomach clenched.
There it was again. A footstep. Definitely. Someone inside her home. An intruder. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She glanced down at the foot of the bed where Mal continued to sleep soundly. Slowly, so, so slowly, she moved the sheet from her body. She couldn’t just lie there and wait. Rising up on one elbow, she eased her knee over the side of the bed, and—
The shrill bleat of her phone shattered the tense silence into tiny shards as she screamed.
“Harper,” Nitro shouted from inside her apartment. A loud crash was followed by a thump as something heavy thudded against the wall of the hallway. She snatched up the phone and saw Heath’s caller ID.
“Heath.” She answered, jumping from the bed, and searching for something to defend herself with. The softball bat. Digging through her closet, she found the scuffed piece of metal and raced out of her room, slamming the door behind her to keep Mal safe. She yelled into her phone. “Help. There’s someone in my apartment.” In the hall, she saw two men, one of them Nitro, grappling with each other as they fell into her living room. “Nitro’s fighting some guy.”
“A patrol car is on the way. I got the alarm on my phone.” Heath’s controlled tone sounded so steady amidst the chaos around her. “Where are you?”
“In my living room.” She gripped her phone between her shoulder and ear as she clutched the bat and circled the men fighting, waiting for her opportunity to help.
“Go into your bedroom and lock the door.”
She ignored Heath’s order. How could she leave Nitro? A tall man, big and chunky, in sweats and a black T-shirt, drew back his glove-covered fist and slammed it into Nitro’s face. Her friend fell back, knocking his head on a side table as he went down. Blood poured down over his face as he lay moaning on the ground.
Oh my God. But she couldn’t get to Nitro. Not with the prowler in the way.
