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“I do. Thanks for bringing me here.” Isla rested her head against Harper’s shoulder, and Harper caught Milo’s eye over her head. She didn’t say anything… didn’t have to. Milo saw the appreciation in her eyes. The gratitude for taking the reins and saying the right thing.
His heart clenched at the pure beauty she radiated, and he swore he could hear Mrs. Garrick’s voice whisper across his ear.When are you going to tell her?
Chapter 19
It was a slow night thanks to the rain, so Milo decided to swing by the train station to see if anyone needed a ride. Every now and again, he’d come across someone from the city who didn’t think to call ahead of time and would be stranded, waiting for someone to come by.
If no one was here, he was calling it a night and heading home to Harper. Jasper was gone for the weekend, and Milo was looking forward to having the house all to themselves. She’d been sneaking into his bedroom at night after Jasper went to bed, neither was ready to make the declaration even if they weren’t fooling Jasper. Which they weren’t.
He’d made a few comments here and there to Milo, afraid he and Harper’s arrangement could lead to disaster, but Milo just laughed it off. Neither he or Harper were going anywhere, and once he got the courage to tell her how he really felt, he hoped that she’d permanently move to his room.
She could still keep her room if she wanted, but he wanted her in his bed every night. He didn’t want to wait for Jasper to fall asleep and for her to tiptoe in. He wanted to scoop her off the couch in the middle of one of Jasper’s documentaries and carry her off to bed.
Rain pelted his windshield, and he turned the wipers up. With the haze, visibility was at a minimum. He took it slow, not wanting to put himself or anyone else in danger. It was always better to be safe than sorry. His blinker illuminated the night as he turned into the parking lot and drove along the curb.
The last train had departed fifteen minutes ago, and it appeared everyone had found a way out of the rain. Milo continued, ready to head back out when his eye caught a shadow at the far side of the lot.
As Milo drove closer, he could make out the figure of a tall man, hood up, no umbrella. Rain soaked his clothes and dripped from his hood. Milo pulled up and rolled his window down. “Need a ride, buddy?”
The man nodded his answer and quickly yanked on the door handle. “Good evening, sir,” Milo said as the guy climbed into the backseat. “This weather is something else, huh? Been raining since before daybreak and hasn’t let up.”
“Shut the fuck up and do as I say.” The cold press of a gun barrel pushed into the back of his neck. His heart slammed against his chest. Sweat prickled his spine and forehead and every limb became numb. He swallowed, forcing down the fear and tried to focus.
He didn’t survive getting hit by one criminal to be taken out by another. Fighting back wasn’t an option. He wasn’t an idiot, and this wasn’t some movie. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said. “Is it money you want? My wallet is in the glovebox.” He pointed, and the guy forced the gun harder into his neck.
“Don’t move.”
“Okay, okay,” Milo said. “I’m not moving.”
“How much is in the wallet?”
“I don’t know. A hundred bucks maybe.” He didn’t carry cash on him. He had no need for it; everyone accepted debit cards, and his customers prepaid on the app.
“Cheap fuck,” the guy mumbled. “Get it. Now!”
Milo wanted to reach for the wallet and get rid of this guy as quickly as possible, but the last time he moved, the gun became more embedded in his neck. He needed to be smart. He inhaled deeply, forcing down the fear and hoping his voice wouldn’t shake. “Okay. Okay. I’ll get the wallet, but I need to move.”
The gun jabbed harder into his neck. “No funny business, or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Tears of terror pricked the back of his eyes. A complicated web of knots twisted his stomach, and the jelly donut he had earlier threatened to come up. He forced it down. Throwing up seemed like a horrible idea right now. The guy had a gun, Milo doubted he’d take pity on him for getting sick.
“N-no funny business. I swear,” Milo said.
He closed his eyes, searching for the strength to get through this. Slowly, with his hands up, he leaned toward the glovebox. A lump formed in his throat, but fear kept him from swallowing it down, afraid it would cause him to make an unnecessary move that panicked his captor.
When he was able to reach the glovebox, he stopped. “I’m going to open it now.”
“Hurry the fuck up.” The man’s voice bordered between a growl and a bark, sending an uneasy chill up Milo’s spine.
His hand shook as he engaged the release. The door fell open, and he grabbed the black leather wallet and held it over his shoulder. “Take it.”
His eyes met the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and the dark blue looked as evil as the night sky before a storm. The man snapped his gaze down, but that millisecond was enough for Milo to burn into his memory.
The guy snatched the wallet out of his hand, and Milo didn’t move, afraid any sudden movement would spook this guy and he’d shoot.
Please just go.
The backdoor creaked open, and the pressure of the gun eased on his neck. He sighed a breath of relief when pain radiated in his head. Harper popped into his thoughts. A reel of his favorite moments of her sped through his mind, then as it ended on her beautiful face looking up at him from his bed, the world went black, and she was gone.
