Harper’s [POV]
It’s dark by the time I enter the front of the Inn, my heart racing. I glance at Charlotte, who is on the phone at the desk, her face pulled into a frown.
Grey stands next to her, scowling, but his face softens when he sees me.
“Are you alright, Harper?” he asks quietly, and I want to laugh at the absurdity of his question.
“No. No, I’m not.”
Grey frowns.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be alright again.
Charlotte hangs up the phone, then turns to me.
“Honey,” she says softly, “someone called here looking for you.”
Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe, and the headache is back.
I swallow, doing my best not to panic. “Oh.”
Grey looks at Charlotte, then back at me. “We didn’t tell them you were here.”
“Okay.”
Good. That’s good.
My heart pounds painfully in my chest as fear freezes me in place.
“He said he was your fiance,” Charlotte adds. “But you’re not engaged, are you?”
I’m going to throw up.
Michael.
“No,” I whisper, as Beau enters from the living room, grinning broadly until he meets my expression. “Hey, guys. Oh…what’s going on?”
It doesn’t matter that Charlotte told Michael I wasn’t here.
I know him.
He’ll show up, anyway.
“Who was on the phone?” Grey asks. “Did you tell anyone you were here?”
I can’t answer him. My mouth opens and closes, trying to find words, but panic stuns my brain.
“Excuse me,” I whisper, pushing past Grey, his rich scent making my head swim. I race past Beau, climbing the stairs two at a time until I reach the door to my suite, where Wilson waits expectantly. I jam the key into the lock and stumble into the room, panting as I grab my suitcase, my heart racing.
I have to leave.
He’s coming.
I shove clothes into my suitcase haphazardly, tears pricking at my eyes, as I try to formulate a plan.
Find shelter.
Sleep in my car.
“Harper?” I jump at Grey’s voice behind me. I turn to him with shaky hands as he stands in the doorway, his expression stoic. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” I stammer, returning my attention to my suitcase. Wilson tries to climb inside, but I gently nudge him away as I fumble with the zipper.
“You’re not leaving.”
I swallow, my hands clenching into fists.
“I’m getting fucking sick of people telling me what to do,” I whisper. “Yes, I’m leaving.”
Grey is silent behind me as I feel his gaze burning into my back.
I struggle with the zipper, a pair of jeans caught in the teeth of it.
“Harper! Hey!” Beau barrels into the room, his hands running through his tangled hair. “Wait. Let’s talk about this. You don’t have to leave.”
Glancing at his handsome face, his eyes hopeful, my heart aches.
Even if he never wanted me in that way, he would have made a great friend.
Damn it.
I start to cry.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t”
A sob escapes me, and Beau wraps his powerful arms around me before I can protest. But instead of shying away, I allow him to calm me.
I haven’t known him for twenty-four hours, but there’s a sense of comfort as he holds me.
The tears don’t stop.
“I hate seeing you cry,” he murmurs, as he holds me, his massive hand gently running up and down my spine.
I can feel Grey’s eyes on us, his scent mixing with Beau’s, and it makes me sob harder.
They have an Omega somewhere.
It’s not me.
“Please, don’t cry, beautiful, I can’t stand it,” Beau whispers in my ear desperately, as I sniffle into his chest. “I’ve got you.”
But he doesn’t at least, not for long.
My reservations are only until the end of the week.
Breathing deeply, focusing on the Alpha’s scents, I pull away from Beau. Grey is still in the doorway, his jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists.
“Who was on the phone?” he asks softly, his gaze deadly.
I shake my head.
“Someone who is only going to cause trouble,” I sniffle, wiping at my cheeks. While it’s tempting to stay here, even with James and Grey’s mood swings, I know I can’t.
“Are you in danger?” Grey continues, his eyes narrowing. He hesitates, then steps through the doorway until he’s just a few feet from me.
It dawns on me, then.
He’s not angry at me he’s angry at me.
I bite my lip and glance between the two Alphas. “Define ‘danger.'”
Beau’s nostrils flare and he growls, the deep sound causing me to jump.
“No one is going to hurt you,” he declares.
I desperately want to believe him.
But the Aurora Innisn’t my home, and once they find out more about Michael, they’ll want nothing to do with me.
It could cost them business.
“I’ve known you a day,” I say softly to both of them. “I’m just a guest, and I don’t want to bring any drama here, especially when you have other patrons.”
“Your reservation is until the end of the week,” Grey says. “There’s no reason for you to leave now.”
He searches my gaze as if willing to understand something.
But I can’t quite figure it out.
And frankly, I don’t have the energy.
Grey’s massive hand slams down on my suitcase, holding it shut on the bed. He’s suddenly behind me, his body warmth encompassing me, and I hold my breath.
“Don’t leave,” he murmurs in my ear.
Every instinct in me screams to obey him, and I nod.
“Okay,” I whisper, and Beau visibly sighs in relief, which confuses me.
They claim they’ve never met me.
So why go through all this trouble to keep me here?
“Who was on the phone?” Beau asks, repeating Grey’s question and interrupting my thoughts.
I sigh.
“My ex-boyfriend,” I say.
“So, not your fiance?” Grey mutters, and Beau looks at him, eyes wide.
I scoff and make a face. “No, he lied. Something is wrong with him.”
Absentmindedly, I touch my cheek where he hit me.
“What do you think is wrong with him?” Beau asks quietly.
I recall the conversation I had with James, and debate whether to elaborate.
Will they pity me? Or will they think I’m crazy?
Grey’s been an asshole to me since I’ve been here. Why would he care?
Even Wilson sits up on the bed, looking at me expectantly.
Fine.
I sit on the bed, my hands in my lap, and start from the beginning.
“About two years ago, I was in a car accident,” I mumble, staring at the comforter. “Which you already know.” I motion to the faint scar on my cheek, barely concealed by makeup.
Both men nod.
“I don’t remember the accident,” I admit. “All I remember is waking up in the hospital, with Michael standing over me with tears in his eyes.”
Nausea pools in my gut as I meet Grey’s face. He remains impassive, his strong features an impenetrable mask of indifference.
Beau listens just as intensely, but he doesn’t hide his emotions as well.
He’s upset.
Wilson nuzzles my hand with his head, and I scratch his chin as I continue.
“I don’t remember anything about my life before the accident. My family, my friends I had to learn it from Michael.”
“Holy shit,” Beau mutters to himself.
“You don’t remember anything,” Grey repeats, his voice low. “So, he filled in the blanks for you?”
There’s a pause as I swallow. “Yes,” I admit shamefully.
Oh, God.
The nausea is back, this time accompanied by tears.
“And the thing is,” I choke out, “I don’t think he’s been honest with me. He told me that my family is dead, but that I wasn’t in contact with them before, which is why I have no pictures of them. He told me he was my only friend, and”
My throat closes and my voice falters.
I put my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut.
There’s a long silence, and when I look up again, Grey sits on the chaise lounge, drumming his fingertips on its wooden arm. Beau slumps in the reading nook, looking as sick as I feel.
“So, long story short, I don’t know who I am at the moment. I mean, I didn’t even know I enjoyed gardening until this morning.” I give Beau a small smile.
“I don’t think you’re allergic to cats,” he points out, as Wilson’s loud purr echoes through the room.
I can’t help but laugh, but Grey stares out into space, his fingers still drumming on the armchair.
“Has he hurt you?” he asks carefully. Pointedly.
It’s obvious what he means.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “That’s why I’m here.”
The air grows thick with tension, and a low rumble sounds from Grey.
The Alpha is growling.
Grey stands up slowly, straightens his shirt collar, and walks to the doorway. “Excuse me,” he mumbles. I stare at his form until he disappears from view and his footsteps fade down the hallway.
Then Beau and I are alone. He leans against the nook, sighing heavily. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“Did I piss him off?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. It’s what that asshole did that pissed him off. We just all channel our anger differently.”
Great.
“So, now you understand why I should leave. It’s baggage that you guys don’t need.” I pick at the comforter, biting my lip.
“Wait, what? Are you serious?”