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Oliver grins. “All for you, baby, all for you.” He gives me one more kiss, a kiss that makes me want to climb him like a tree, and not shower at all. But then we wouldn’t get anything done, and as much as I love being here with them, I really want to get back to living a normal life. So instead of begging him to take me again, I focus on washing my body and hair, and less on the pulsing between my legs.
Once we’ve finished showering and are dressed, we make our way out to the living room. Sullivan and Banks are already lounging on the couch, both with shit-eating grins on their faces.
They heard us, or at least Oliver.
“Have a nice shower?” Sullivan asks, chuckling.
“Yeah, did you get all clean?” Banks chimes in, “It sounded like you did.”
“Yes, don’t worry. I was thorough… made sure I got every spot clean.” At Oliver’s words, my face turns about five shades redder.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Sullivan tells me, rubbing my back when I take the seat next to him.
“Can’t help it,” I say, even more embarrassed. While I’ve become more outspoken sexually, it’s still a lot for me. After all the bullying and hate I’ve gotten about being with all three of them, it’s hard for me to handle any type of teasing without feeling like caving in on myself.
Oliver opens his mouth, and it looks as if he is about to say something when his phone starts ringing. He takes it out of his pocket and looks at the screen with his eyebrows drawn together. “It’s the detective.”
Before anyone can say anything, he answers the phone, placing it on speaker for all of us to hear. “Hello…”
“Good morning, Mr. Bishop. How are you doing today?”
“Very good,” Oliver answers, grinning at me while he does.
“Good, good… Is Miss. Lockwood still with you?”
“Yes, I’m here,” I say before anyone else can answer.
“Great. Hello, Harlow. I hope you are doing well. I know you’ve been through a lot, so I wanted to call you right away to let you know that we arrested Shelby a few hours ago.”
“Finally,” Banks mutters under his breath.
I know I should say something. I know I should probably be happy and relieved that I’m safe now, but for some reason, I feel neither. All I feel is the need for answers.
“Did she say why she did it? Why she wants me dead?” Not knowing has been eating me up. I thought she was my best friend before all of this, so why did she want me dead?
“No, I’m sorry. She didn’t give us a real reason as to why, but she did confess to wanting to hurt you.”
“You put her in jail, right?” Oliver asks impatiently. “And she won’t be getting out any time soon?”
“Actually…” The detective pauses, and I feel the air in my lungs still, “She’s not in jail, we had to bring her into a closed psychiatric ward after what happened.”
“What? Why? What happened?” I mean, I know she had some mental issues given what she did to me, but still. A psychiatric ward seems to be a little too much.
“Harlow, do you know that it was your father who called her location in?”
Almost absentmindedly I nod, before realizing he can’t see me. “Yes,” I say, after a moment. “I talked to him about Shelby and…” I trail off, not wanting to say the words out loud. Shelby and my father. I’m still so disgusted by the thought, and now I’m even more embarrassed… embarrassed about what kind of man my father is.
“When we arrested her, and she realized that your father was the one who had called us, she had a complete mental breakdown. She was yelling and screaming, saying that she’s in love with him and that she needs to kill you to have him for herself. Then she tried to hurt herself, we had no choice but to send her in to have her mental state evaluated.”
“So, she’ll be there for a while or what?” Banks interjects.
“They’re going to do a full evaluation on her, and then make a decision, but as of right now, that’s where she will be staying. If I have any further updates, I’ll be sure to give you a call and let you know.”
“Thank you, detective,” I can’t explain the pressure that’s been lifted from my chest at knowing that she’s somewhere far away, somewhere that she won’t be able to escape from, and that my father was the one who helped put her there.
A small piece of my heart beats for the man that gave me life because, in the end, he did choose me over her, but it took all of these bad things happening to me for him to do it.
“No problem, have a good day.” The line goes dead, leaving me with nothing more than my thoughts and the three men that own my heart. When I look up, I find all three of them staring at me. Each carrying their own confused expression.
