“Okay,” she said nervously, “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Closing my eyes, I took a slow breath. The particles in the air were all her. “What’s wrong,” I said, my voice thick with need, “Is that I haven’t felt your lips in over ten hours.”
We came together like a wave on a beach. I wanted to kiss her until she eroded my fears. I needed her wetness, her warmth, the sweetness of her taste buds on my own… and I needed it more for my heart than for my body.
Kissing Harper the first time was a mistake. This? This was suicide.
Cupping her cheeks, I rubbed my nose on hers. “Dammit,” I hissed. “How can you be this perfect?” Catching her hip, I lifted her knee and pressed it against my ribs. She was standing; I was still sitting. I’d rooted myself to the spot, as if I was sure, if I rose to my feet, duty would force me to end everything.
I wasn’t ready for an ending. For years, I’d been sure I was; the end was the only thing that gave me meaning. I fell asleep each night thinking about how I’d crush Mister Big. It was my drive, nothing had threatened that.
Cena is her sister.
Fuck.
“Jack,” she said as I pulled out of the kiss. Her nails cut through my hair; each motion created tingles in my bones. My muscles went taut, cock raging in my boxers.
Nearly panting, I released her leg. “I can’t,” I said. “We can’t.”
“What?” My rejection shocked her almost as badly as it did me. Harper stroked my bicep and I stepped off the stool. Both of us saw me adjusting my painful hard-on, her confusion making my heart ache. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not. I just… I just need a minute.” My neck twinged as I looked around the room. Behind me was the exit to the main hall, in front of me was Harper, and to the side was the bathroom. Go out the front door, leave her. This won’t work—you can’t have her. Fuck, you’re going to kidnap her sister to use as blackmail.
She’s Mister Big’s daughter. Maybe not by blood, but… for all it counts… family.
You can’t get Cena today, but there’s always tomorrow. Unless you chicken out.
Harper is your enemy.
The angel who’d saved me was looking at me like I’d cut out her lungs. I’d had plans to do so much worse. “I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, dodging around her and into the bathroom. Closed away there, I could still feel her with me. The walls, the door, they did nothing to separate me from Harper.
The room was pure white marble and silver fixtures. Bending over the sink, I ran the water, cupping it in my palms. It slid between the gaps in my fingers. That’s my resolve, I thought, fighting the urge to laugh. How could I possibly go through with kidnapping Cena now that I knew she was Harper’s half sister?
Splashing my face, I gripped the edges of the basin and stared at my reflection. The sight of my own uncertain features strangled my heart. Flaring with anger at my own weakness, I filled the sink to the brim. I shoved my whole head under.
Idiot.
I let the water fill my nose.
You’ve forgotten everything you struggled for.
The sensation of drowning cleared my head. When my chest seared like I’d filled it with tar, I ripped myself upwards, drawing in oxygen with pained gasps. Palming soaked strands of hair off of my forehead, I smoothed my hands over my scalp. My eyes throbbed, but I could see clearly, think sharply.
When I’d been left to die in that alley, I’d learned the only time we’re capable of awareness is when we’re balanced on the frayed wire of death.
And that was the only reason I spotted what I did above the mirror.
Freezing, I squinted in disbelief at the spot between the two large light bulbs in their silver casings. What I saw made my veins run with acid. It infuriated me in a way few things could.
I knew exactly what I had to do.
Chapter Five
Harper
He came back out, his face a map of turmoil. I didn’t know Jack well and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Our connection was all in my head, and I was great at making poor decisions. But I wanted to know what was going on… why he was acting so weird… so I sat there, perched on the stool, and waited.
Jack paused in front of me, stiff as a statue of armor. “Your stepdad, do you love him?”
Again and again, Jack left me guessing. “Why does that matter?”
“Just tell me.”
I leaned away, scrunching up my nose. “No. I don’t love the man.”
“Then why the hell do you work for him?”
“Jack, if you’re about to try and pull some ‘Save the poor stripper’ bit on me, I don’t need it.”
“I’m not trying to save you. I’m trying to understand you.”
Jack sought me out with a raw, genuine expression of concern. Only Cena looked at me that way. My guard cracked, every reason I had not to tell this man about my situation falling into the shadow cast by my heart. “It’s not a happy story.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Few of them are.”
I closed my eyes and breathed. In my ears was the low ring of white noise, the stuff that filled the gaps between memories. I scooped it out of the way and let myself talk. “Callum wanted me to be a singer. He always wanted that… he said I was special, knew I’d make him rich. When he discovered me, I felt blessed. But that meeting was what linked him to my mother.” Wincing, I uncurled my fingers; my nails had dug into my own flesh. “When I realized that singing had ruined any happiness my family could have had, even if we remained poor… I decided I no longer wanted to sing. I convinced Callum I’d lost my ability due to… grief.” I glanced away, not ready to expand on that part of the story. “It infuriated him. But he wasn’t going to let me off free of charge. If I wanted to see my sister, I had—have—to work for him.”
“He doesn’t know you can still sing?”
“Only you and Cena know.”
Jack blinked. “It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around, choosing stripping over singing.”
My laugh was hollow in my chest. I wondered if that meant my heart had shrunk, and all I had inside of me was useless air. “I’d choose it over and over, and then I’d choose it again.”
“But you’re voice… it’s amazing.”
“This amazing voice ruined my life, Jack. Stripping my clothes off for strange men isn’t torture. Callum can’t hurt me by making me get on that stage. If anything… I relish it.”
He scooped my hands up where I’d folded them in my lap. His fingers brushed the sensitive undersides of my wrists. “Explain that for me.”