Page 63 of Sun-Kissed Fangs
Nell had the good sense to look guilty. But it got curbed somewhat by her trying not to laugh.
“It’s not like it matters,” Nell said. “It was just once. And you’re not working together anymore. Technically.”
Patricia’s expression softened the slightest bit. Not enough to look approving, just enough that some of the disappointment faded from her eyes.
But this wasn’t as simple as Nell made it out to be. She and Maya might not share a place of employment anymore, but that was just because Harper’s life had been completely uprooted within the span of a few hours.
Was any of it even real? Everything that had happened these past few weeks might have been part of whatever role Maya had played. The friendly flirting, the stories they’d shared. What they’d done the night before.
Everything had been turned upside down. Her shitty job, her unideal living situation, even her grief had been negated. Just a few hours ago, her life had been slowly falling apart, but it didn’t feel overwhelming because she wasusedto that, and being with Maya… It felt like she understood.
But maybe she had just been pretending.
The room went fuzzy. The shadows darkened, and the buzzing from the nearby lights grew almost ear-piercing. When it started to feel like bugs were crawling around under her skin, Harper shot to her feet, the movement so sudden that it made Nell flinch.
“I need some air.”
She walked off without another word. Without looking at anyone or even knowing where she was going. She just hurried through the nearby staff door, walking blindly down an empty hallway until she rushed through what she hoped was the rear exit.
She almost cursed. A courtyard sprawled out in front of her, sparsely decorated with empty flowerpots and wooden furniture. There was even a goddamn tree, its roots pushing under the paving stones and string lights hanging in gentle curves between its branches and the back wall of the Lotus.
Harper had hoped for a trash-filled alleyway. That, at least, would have felt familiar.
She sank down on a nearby bench, groaning into her hands.
This was so fuckingstupid. Everything wasfine. It wasmorethan fine. It was better than she could have ever believed possible.
Why couldn’t she just handle this like an adult and accept it? Be happy instead of driving herself towards meaningless panic?
But she knewwhy. Joy had become a stranger these past few years. It was no wonder her instincts told her to run away rather than embrace it.
The back door clicked open. Harper’s shoulders sagged.
“Go away. I don’t want to talk right now.”
“You sure?” Evie said, making Harper dart her eyes in her direction. She was halfway outside, fingers still closed around the door handle.
Harper sighed. “I thought you were Nell. You know she can’t stand when people are upset.”
“Yeah, I remember. She was actually on her way out here, but I asked if I could go instead.” Evie gestured at the bench. “Can I sit? Or do you want to be alone?”
Harper let out a humorless chuckle. “I do want to be alone. Which means I probably shouldn’t be.”
Evie gave her a soft smile. A knowing one, maybe, before sitting down next to her. She was so close to the end of the bench that she almost slipped off it.
“You were kind of quiet in there. Not like you.”
“This is just a lot to deal with.” Harper took a deep breath, grateful itdidn’t tremble. If she wasn’t careful, another crying fit might sneak through. “What happens now? I’m guessing we’re not going back to St. Louis anytime soon.”
“I actually don’t know. People getting initiated usually happens under more controlled circumstances. We’ll have to figure out how much to tell Lucas, too. The Chains aren’t really used to dealing with kids.”
Other than having his camping trip interrupted by concerned phone calls, Lucas didn’t know what was going on. Patricia was picking him up the following day and would explain what needed to be explained in the car ride to Chicago.
“He might not even remember me,” Evie said, eyes distant. “He was only six when I left. So much has happened since then.”
“He remembers you. When we celebrated his last birthday, he insisted on getting two extra chairs for the table. One for you. And one for Mason.”
Evie’s bottom lip trembled, but her smile stopped the tears from flowing again. Or maybe she had just run out of them. They’d gone through an entire box of tissues during the conversation inside.
