I pulled the covers over my back and laid on my stomach, tucking the pillow beneath my head and staring at Harper’s door, waiting for her. When she came in, my stomach clenched. She was unbelievably beautiful to me. She was made for me. Never could I have imagined a woman could look as good as this one did in my clothes.

She crawled into bed, throwing the blanket over her shoulders and snuggled closely. I tossed an arm and a leg over her, making her nestle even closer.

“I love you, Callum.”

“I love you, too, Harper.”

Sleep came quickly for both of us. I couldn’t remember feeling more relaxed in my life than I did lying next to Harper. Her, cradled in my arms, a welcome respite from the tedious anxiety John Bell had caused us that evening.

Chapter Thirteen

Good Ol' Fashioned Nightmare

Callum

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed and panicked.

“Harper?!” I yelled, scrambling out of bed in a stiff pair of jeans.

“I’m here!” She called out to me from our kitchen.

I sighed in relief, heading for the bathroom to relieve myself. I hated sleeping in jeans. The next morning you always wake pissed a little that you forgot to take them off or, in my case, that you couldn’t just sleep in your boxers next to your wife.

I flushed and washed my hands, inspecting my wounds in the mirror. A good night’s rest helped tremendously. I wasn’t as sore as I was the night before but my eyes still looked disgusting.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked Harper, rounding the corner into the kitchen before kissing the top of her head.

She was at the gas stove, flipping pancakes.

“You looked so pathetic there with your bandaged head. I wanted to make sure that you got as much sleep as possible.”

I sat and poured a cup of coffee for myself. She always made me coffee even though she never drank the stuff. Another reason I loved her so much, so thoughtful.

“What are we going to do?” She asked me.

“For now? We’re going to wait. We’re going to be extraordinarily careful. We’re going to stick to crowds and I’ll walk you to all your classes. We’re going to be alert and you will never go anywhere alone.”

“No where?”

“I don’t even want to be separated by a room.”

“Not even a room?” She teased.

“Okay, maybe a few rooms you can be alone in,” I said, laughing, making her laugh with me.

That’s how we lived day after day, after day, after day. For three weeks Harper and I lived a very tiresome existence. We spent an unbelievable amount of time with one another, sleeping together, eating together, traveled together. We went to school together. I walked her from class to class and, to be frank, we were growing weary of the worry John Bell was causing us.

The Friday of our third week, we got into a particularly rancid argument, our nerves frayed. Harper and I never name called, never. We never really shouted either but this day, there was a lot of shouting back and forth.

“If I went out with them but promised to stay with them at all times, would you let me go then?” Harper asked.

“No! Not one of those women could handle John’s girth. I‘m six-two, a hundred eighty pounds, Harper! And I’m in damn good shape! Even I can’t handle him completely! He’s a monster!” I yelled from my position on the couch. I was drumming my thumbs nervously on my thighs.

“I know that! You don’t have to remind me, Callum!” Harper yelled back from behind her door.

She was trying to get ready to have a girl’s night with Cherry, Kelly, Sam, and Marty and I wasn’t going to let her. I was going to tie her to the radiator if I had to. I felt it was too dangerous. I saw what John’s intentions were with her and he knew where we lived. Harper didn’t know that but I thought maybe it was time she did, especially if she kept insisting that she was going out ‘whether I liked it or not’.

I sighed loudly, hoping she heard. “Harper, why can’t you just stay in until they catch him?”

She opened the door, stepping out in some dress that made my eyes want to roll into the back of my head. I almost keeled over at the pleasure of looking at her.

“No,” she said succinctly. “I can’t live my life, looking over my shoulder every five seconds and I’m going stir crazy sitting in this house all the time.” She sat beside me, the skirt of her dress, tightening around her thighs, reminding me how shapely they were. All the more reason she should stay. “Listen, I love you but I need to get out of here. I need a break.”

I sighed. “I know, Harper, but you can’t go alone. Listen, I’ll compromise with you. How about I come with you...”

“No,” she interrupted. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s either that or you don’t go. I don’t care if I have to block the door myself. You are not going alone. Don’t you even remember that night, Harper?”

She thought for a moment, sinking further into the couch cushion. “Fine,” she conceded, “but you’re invisible, alright? I don’t want the girls to even know you’re there. I’m breaking all the rules by allowing you to attend a girl’s night. It’s, like, sacrilegious or something.”

I couldn’t keep back my snort. “You’ll never know I’m there.”

They knew I was there. It enraged Harper but when they saw me sulking in a corner, they dragged me to their table. Eventually, Harper joined in on the fun, even apologizing to me later when she’d relaxed a little bit.

The other girls had gotten up to dance, leaving Harper and I alone. She slid across the leather booth to sit next to me.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello, love.” Her hand was pressed into the seat of the booth and I placed my own on top of it. I leaned into her ear. “Dance with me, Harper.”

She shook her head, glancing at the crowded dance floor. “No,” she said, hurting my feelings and wounding my pride. I started to pull my hand away but she gripped it and brought her mouth to my ear. “I would much rather sit here with you, smell your yummy smell, drink in your handsome face, hear your lovely words.”

“Wow, Harper. That was,” I cleared my throat at the surprising turn of our conversation, “sexy.”

“I know,” she teased. “Fighting you brings out a feisty side, I think.”

Note to self, fight with Harper more often.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you ever think about our kiss?” I asked boldly, surprising myself. I didn’t know where I got the confidence.

I’d said it before I’d lost my nerve and from the look on her face, I immediately regretted it but then she surprised me.

“All the time,” she said, astounding me.

“Me too.”

We were quiet for an awfully long time and I had no idea what to do. I knew if we took the conversation any further that things would be revealed or not revealed and I was too frightened to find out what either would be but it was hanging out there, practically begging to come out to play.

“I’d like to try it again,” I said, possibly ruining the past two years worth of work I’d done.

The blood in my neck seeped into my face and I found myself hoping she hadn’t heard me. I turned toward her and saw that she had. I felt sick in that moment, an instantaneous headache began to pound my brain but all ceased immediately when she grabbed the vest I wore over my t-shirt and slid the wool cap off my head. She let go of my vest and ran her hands through my hair, twisting her fingers through to the end right above my shoulders.

I couldn’t believe this was going to happen to me. We both leaned into one another but I stopped abruptly, wondering something.

“Have you been drinking, Harper?” I asked her, curious why she’d become so forward all of a sudden.

She didn’t have a chance to answer because my cell phone began to vibrate on the table. I went to push end, to ignore the call but it was our Super. I noticed it was late so I picked it up.

“Hello! Smith?” I screamed into the phone. I couldn’t hear. It sounded like sirens blaring on both ends. Hold on!” I grabbed Harper’s hand, refusing to leave her alone and led her to the patio outside the bar. “Smith?” I asked again.

“Yes! Callum! Is Harper with you?!”

“Yes! Why?”

“Well that’s a blessing, I guess.”

“Smith! What’s going on?”

“I hate to tell you this, son, but the building’s burning!”

“What?!” I yelled, gripping harder on to Harper’s hand.

She inched towards me, panic sobering her quickly.

“It looks like it started in your apartment!” He yelled into the phone. “You’re needed here, Callum.”

“We’ll be right there!” I yelled back, ending the phone call.

I tugged Harper’s hand toward the club. She’d heard everything and was in shock. I found the girls on the dance floor.

“Cherry!” I yelled, pulling at her sleeve.

“What’s up, baby?” She yelled.

“Our apartment’s on fire! I’m pretty sure it was John! Tell the others! Meet us there, okay?”

She grabbed my face in her hands and tears had begun to well in her eyes. “Go! We’ll be there soon!”

We ran. The taxi was the longest two minute drive of my life. I threw a few bills, not really caring if it was enough or too much, and launched us out the door. The building was indeed in flames on our corner of the building. I noticed our apartment seemed to be the only one on fire. I thanked God for small blessings. They must have gotten there pretty quickly.

“No!” Harper yelled.

We wound our way through the throng of people and found a fireman on a radio.

“That’s our apartment!” I yelled over the sirens. “Did everyone get out safely?” I asked.

“Everyone! Are you Callum and Harper Tate?”

“Yes, sir!”

“You two were the only ones we had yet to locate. Please, stay nearby!” He said, running off another direction as a section of Harper’s bedroom collapsed into the street, shattering into a flaming mess, making us both cringe.

So, Harper and I were forced to watch our apartment burn to a black crisp. Harper was openly sobbing, clinging to my shirt, burying her face in my neck. I tried to soothe her by rubbing her hair but it did no good. What could I possibly do or say? We both knew who started it. He ruined everything we had worked for. All those years of shopping for frugal purchases, investing an astronomical amount of time into making our house cozy and everything wonderful, gone. In a blaze of hate. I absently remembered that we had renter’s insurance and breathed a small sigh of relief knowing we’d get to at least purchase a new life if we ever survived John Bell’s wrath.

Then, I remembered Harper’s copy of To Kill A Mockingbird and almost cried for her. I wasn’t going to bring it up. I hoped for a small favor in that it might be spared but I knew that would be unlikely. We were literally losing all our possessions. We were being left with less than what we had when we met, which was absolutely nothing accept for a motorcycle and a book. I’d come to terms with my bike being gone but Harper’s book was the only link to one of the only happy memories she even had.