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"Shower," I announce to my empty apartment before turning around and heading toward the bathroom.
I don't know what wakes me up but when I do, I know something's not right.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I check the time, seeing that I’ve only been asleep for half an hour. Grabbing a t-shirt and sweats up off the floor, I put them on and walk into the living room, my eyes scanning the area as I go.
Just as I’m about to give up and start thinking I’m hearing things, there's a knock at the door. A quick check of my watch shows that it's only five a.m.
Marlee... I stride to the entry and swing it open. "Marls, what's--"
But the person at the door isn't Marlee. Instead, it's the last person I'd ever expect to be standing in front of me, and he looks a wrecked version of himself.
"Get inside," Harry says, pushing me back and rushing in after me before slamming the door behind him. He pushes past me and moves to the front windows, looking outside before roughly jerking the curtains closed.
"What's going on, Harry? Why are you here?" I ask, kicking myself for not grabbing my gun from the safe.
He swings around to face me. "I can't believe I dragged you into this shit," he says, pacing back and forth. His eyes flit about, desperately searching the house. He's shaking and sweating, his skin pale white, and his breathing is fast and shallow.
"What shit, Harry?
"It’s a cluster fuck. I knew I shouldn't do it, shouldn’t listen to him, but he gave me no choice," he says, his voice shaking, then he freezes, turning to look straight at me. “You’ve got to believe me, Aiden.”
I can see the desperation written all over his face, the fear, the complete and utter hopelessness he's feeling. "Tell me why you're here."
Harry runs shaky fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath before he speaks. "A few years ago, I was struggling to keep a roof over my head, let alone the business. I was behind in my mortgage and rent and all those shitty little jobs we get weren't enough to stay afloat. A case fell in my lap, one that would pay enough to buy me a couple of months. It was a simple job, track down a guy's father. Find him and then I'd be golden."
"OK... so what happened?" I've decided to keep him talking, remembering my negotiation training from back in the force.
"I tracked him down within a week. Took a quick trip to Wyoming, laid eyes on him myself, then flew back home and handed over the info." Wyoming? There's our link... again.
"OK. Then what?"
Harry stalks over to my kitchen, frantically opening my cabinets until he finds my half-full bottle of Jack. He grabs two glasses and bangs them down on the counter, ripping the lid off the liquor and filling the glasses with two heavy-handed pours. Lifting one of them, he slams it back, sucking in a breath as the whisky burns down his throat. He nods to the other glass and I walk over to stand opposite him with only the kitchen island between us.
"He took the information, paid his bill, and went on his way. Told me to call him if I ever needed a favor." I grab the glass and throw it back, placing it back on the counter as I drop my head and swallow down my groan because I can already tell where this is going. I let him continue, wanting to hear the rest of it.
"A few months later, the money ran out and the bank was threatening to foreclose again, and I was all out of options."
"You called him," I say, matter-of-factly.
"I asked if there was anything else I could do for him. He said no but asked to meet."
"When was this?"
"About a month after you came on board." My eyes close with a huge sigh as he continues. "So I met him and he offered to bail me out. All he wanted was a favor he could call in at any time."
"Harry," I growl.
"I know alright?" His voice cracks this time, and I know now more than ever that I'm looking at a broken man who's out of luck and fresh out of options.
"This favor was me, right?"
He nods, his regretful gaze meeting mine. "Six weeks ago, he called and told me to get you to Vegas. Said to contact Justin and he'd take care of the rest. But no matter what, you needed to be here and stay here for a while."
"So you lied to me?"
His guilt-filled gaze meets mine. "I had to. Don't you get that? He didn't give me a choice."
“You told me this was above board. It was legal.” I shake my head. "Why, Harry? Why would you do it?" I ask softly, my heart sinking. I already know the answer.
