Harlow remained frozen, sitting up in bed while I grabbed one of my guns and walked to the living room. No doubt she was terrified sleeping in a building filled with killers.
On the balcony, I heard the female’s voice again. This time, she was laughing. Across from my balcony stood a half dressed and very drunk blonde waving at me. Dayton Rutgers joined her, looking nervous I might jump over there and kick his ass.
“Sorry. We were just messing around.”
“You woke me up, so tell your friend to put a cork in it.”
Dayton gave me a nod before corralling the girl into his apartment. Other men spoke from the balconies around me, but I ignored them. I needed to get back inside to reassure Harlow.
She hadn’t moved since I left. Her big eyes flashed from the gun in my hand to my face.
“Just some girl who can’t handle her booze.”
Harlow showed no reaction as I set the gun on the bedside table. Seeing her so terrified, I ran a hand through my hair.
“Want me to sit in the living room for a while?” I asked.
Harlow finally blinked and her fear eased. Shaking her head, she rested back on the bed and sighed.
“I like how fast on your feet you were,” she mumbled. “I’m too out of it when I wake up.”
I gave her a grin. “I hadn’t been asleep long. You should see me in the morning.”
“Are you crabby?” she asked, smiling.
“No, not really. I’m actually a morning person if I enjoy more than a few hours of decent sleep. Consider yourself warned.”
“Well you ought to prepare yourself for an amazing level of morning grumpiness. Jace once told me I wake up smelling of angry old man.”
Smiling still, I couldn’t keep my hand from grazing her cheek. Harlow didn’t give me the freaked look from the barbecue. Relaxed, she watched me as I touched her again. I knew a third touch might push her too far, so I forced my hand on the bed.
“I’m glad we’re friends,” Harlow whispered, her eyelids barely open.
Resting my head on the pillow, I studied her. “Good thing your womanly rage caused you to attack me yesterday.”
Eyed closed, Harlow smiled. “I’ll show you womanly rage.”
Watching her sleep, I relaxed in a way I hadn’t in years. Her presence lifted something dark off of me and I didn’t want the oppressive weight to return. My mother once asked me why I couldn’t throw off what kept me chained. The words felt easy coming from her, but I couldn’t escape my past. All these years, I never found a way to combine the man I was before Mexico and the man I became. Instead, I hid behind my masks like the good killer.
Harlow was only a girl and still trapped in her own chains. We were both lost in the past. I wasn’t sure she could help me break free or how I might heal her scars.
Dozing off, I accepted that we’ll never find our magical fix. This reality didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy being friends while I was in Ellsberg. Not everything in life had to be so damn momentous. Sometimes, our only choice was to embrace the little wins.
Chapter Fifteen ~ Harlow
For whatever reason, I woke up in the morning with a Reba McEntire song stuck in my head. Considering I dreamed of the monster worms from Tremors, the song probably made a little sense. I opened my eyes to find Saint missing from bed and the sun bright in the room even barely past dawn.
Seeing movement in the living room, I found Saint on the couch, drinking coffee. He saw me and smiled brightly. Yeah, he was definitely a morning person.
“You were crankier yesterday,” I said, fixing my bed head.
“My dreamcatcher did the trick. Slept like a rock all night.”
Walking away from him and his happy smile, I muttered, “Good to hear.”
I took a shower and forced myself to wake up. Saint was full of energy, so I needed to at least try to keep up. Wearing sweat shorts and a white tee, I ended up nearly matching Saint. Of course, my bare skin didn’t look anything like his. Forget how pale I was next to him, I looked like a beanstalk compared to his perfectly muscled body. Perfect was the right word too. No muscle was too thick. Not an inch was scrawny. He was sleek and powerful like a panther. His muscles flexed in the sexiest way whenever he moved.
“Feeling perky now?” he said, giving me a sly grin.
Taking the cup of coffee he held out for me, I smiled big and fake. “Oh, yeah, so much. Thanks.”
“I’m a good influence on people. Everyone says so,” he said, walking to the couch. “And not just because I can kill them. They want to say it.”
Sitting in a chair across from him, I mumbled, “No doubt. Have you ever killed anyone for saying the wrong thing?”
Saint gave me a half smile. “Depends on what the wrong thing was.”
He held my gaze while I considered pushing the subject. Considering I wasn’t fully awake, yet fully cranky, I decided to let the topic die.