I don’t.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Harper
Eric loves me? Did he really just say that to me?
Yes. Yes, he did, but I can’t let myself get too carried away with this. We feel like we’re in love, but we’ve had six years of being in love with the idea of each other. We’re under extraordinary circumstances. I almost died yesterday. He saved my life. There are so many ways we are bonded. The miscarriage, I think. Our baby we lost.
We’re bonded.
He wanted me to know that now though. God. “What are you about to do, Eric?”
Panic rises inside me and I rush toward the door of his apartment. I open it and as expected, Smith steps in front of me. “Smith,” I greet. “Eric went to his father’s hotel. He just called and—I think he’s going to do something he can’t undo. Is someone with him?”
“Savage is with him.”
“And Savage will stop him from doing something crazy?”
“Savage is the kind of guy who’ll take over.”
“Take over? Eric won’t let him take over.”
“He’ll take over,” he repeats.
“No. He won’t. Eric won’t let that happen.”
His lips thin. “Savage and Eric get along. He’ll take care of him. Eric will be back without an irreparable blemish.”
“Irreparable blemish? Are you trying to make me
feel better?”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep. It’s a thing here at Walker. We tell things as they are. We’re honest. I can’t tell you that they won’t end up banged up, but I can assure you they’ll end up safe, in one piece, and without any damage that they can’t come back from.”
“You’re killing me.”
“No,” he says. “I’m protecting you, like Savage is protecting Eric.”
“You remember he’s a genius, right?”
“Quite clearly.”
“He can outsmart Savage,” I counter.
“But why would he want to? Savage isn’t a man who needs things sugarcoated.”
“You’re not making this better.”
“They’ll be back soon.”
I sigh and turn away from him, shutting the door again. My cellphone rings where I stupidly left it on the coffee table. I run across the room and grab it to find my mother calling. I hit decline. I can’t take it. I’ll confront her over my attack and I have no plan after that. I don’t know if we want to tell her about all of this or not. I need to talk to Eric first. I stand up and start to pace. I grab my phone and try to call Eric, but he doesn’t answer. I repeat three times.
Another ten minutes pass, and my phone rings again, and this time it’s Gigi. I don’t like the timing, so close to when my mother called. And I don’t want to take the call at all. I feel like this woman set me up to be murdered, but I also fear there might be something she says, that if ignored, could become even more dangerous.
I hit the answer button. “Hi, Gigi.”
“What is going on?”