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“I can’t let you. Give me the gun, Harper.” His voice was so calm and level, but I could tell by the wild look in his eyes how concerned he was.
“Please,” I whispered, knowing I had to slay this demon of mine.
“It won’t be self-defense,” he warned me and I looked down at Jayson, then back at Gabriel. Before I could say anything else, he spoke again. “He’s bound right now, so this will be an execution. You’ll be branded a murderer and spend the rest of your life in jail.”
“But he h-hurt me,” I stammered.
“The police are on the way. He’s going to jail for a long time, maybe even the rest of his life. It’s over for him. Don’t give him the power to end your life, too.”
“B-but—”
“Give me the gun, Harper.”
I knew Gabriel was right, but this anger laced fear inside of me had me in its grip. I kept the weapon trained on him, even as I thwarted Gabriel’s attempt to take the gun from me. He was still pleading with me, while Jayson smirked from his position, his arrogance almost daring me to follow through.
I would kill him which would save him from jail, while I’d be thrown into a cell and left there to die. I dropped the weapon. I nearly tumbled to the concrete myself, and likely would’ve had Gabriel not caught me and dragged me away. I collapsed in his arms, then buried my head against his chest as I let the tears fall.
GABRIEL
We were finally back at my place after having spent over an hour talking to the authorities who arrived on the scene. They’d gotten her things from the car and given them to her before starting their questioning. Mine had taken less time than hers, so when I had gone to find Harper, I lingered nearby and heard Harper detail what all had been done to her, and it made my blood boil. I should’ve killed the bastard. I don’t know why I spared his life. I wish now that I hadn’t.
Jayson was okay, other than his physical injuries, so unfortunately the asshole would make a full recovery. His nose may never be straight again, but it wouldn’t matter when he was in prison for the remainder of his life.
I would spend every cent possible to make sure he rotted in a cell. I hoped the judge locked him up and threw away the damn key. Kidnapping, attempted murder, and I growled as the word rape had been thrown around. It was bad enough he had hurt her when she was younger, but knowing he had also hurt her again today nearly gutted me.
I kept looking over the text messages, ones Jayson had sent from her phone when he’d been pretending to be her. I’d still been so upset at her sudden appearance in my life that I almost didn’t even show up. I shuddered to think what might’ve happened had I ignored her. I still wasn’t entirely sure what she thought she knew, but I intended to find out before I let her out of my sight again.
I had no real reason to be so hovering. In fact, I was likely the last one who should have been, yet I was. I’d stayed there well after my own interrogation had been done, and I didn’t leave until she was released as well. How could I not?
All that kept echoing in my head were Jayson’s threat to blow her head off. I knew if I had ignored her texts, that would’ve been the probable outcome. He would’ve just killed her, and the weight of that fell upon my shoulders. If she hadn’t been worried about me, she would’ve never even been here in Chicago to begin with.
Guilt weighed heavily on me, and not just for the present. I should’ve known Harper wouldn’t willingly cheat on me back then, but I had allowed her to convince me of it so easily. I did nothing other than try to seek her out on her social media profiles for a few weeks, before giving up on her and us altogether.
Every dream we’d had could’ve still come true if only I had known. My father would’ve moved Heaven and Earth to bring her back to Chicago.
How could I live with myself knowing my own wounded pride had forced her to spend an entire year and a half in Hell?
I had to push those helpless thoughts from my head, and I did, even having to argue with Harper when she refused medical care despite the detective’s pleas. “I know you don’t want to get checked out, but you have to,” I’d told her.
“I don’t want to go to a hospital. I—”
“Then I’ll have a doctor perform a check up at my place.”
I had a medical concierge membership which provided me with physicians who were at my beck and call. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because I would’ve spent every cent I had to get someone there. Thankfully, my regular doctor was more than happy to stop by.
When Dr. Peterson was there, it took everything in me not to hover at her door during the exam. I had brought her upstairs, and made her lay in my bed which was much nicer than the ones I reserved for guests. He was up there for over an hour before he joined me downstairs.
“How is she?” I asked before he could even fully descend the steps.
“She’s going to be okay. She’s banged up and all, but—”
“What did you find?”
Dr. Peterson flashed me a sympathetic look before clapping my shoulder lightly. “You know I can’t go into those details.”
Damn HIPAA! “I understand. She’s going to be okay, though. Right?”
Initially, I wasn’t sure if he would even relay that, but he finally nodded. “Yes, she experienced some trauma, but a few days rest will do her a world of good. She’s currently sleeping at the moment.”
