Fight or Flight

And on that Carissa note, I still had no idea who she was or what lesson she’d taught Caleb.

“I was curious.” I shrugged. “And you have over half a million Instagram followers. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Plus, Ava sketches,” Caleb offered. I’d left my sketchbook out on the coffee table a week ago and nosy Caleb had taken a peek. Admittedly, I’d flushed with pleasure at his praise for my drawings. “She’s good. You should check them out.”

I tried to ignore the warmth his words caused in my chest. “They’re nothing like your paintings. I just … doodle.”

“They’re more than doodles.”

“I didn’t know you were into art.” Jamie studied me curiously.

I stopped myself from responding that he didn’t know anything about me because he refused to ask. Instead I said, “I went to art school. Interior design.”

“Oh, right, of course. I dropped out of art school.”

“Not that it did him any harm. Jamie’s got an exhibit coming up in New York,” Caleb said, smirking at his brother, but it was a proud smirk. I could tell. And it made my insides mushy.

Jamie flicked his brother an amused but pleased look. “What can I say … I’m a genius.”

Caleb chuckled, shaking his head at him. And with one last look at me, Jamie wandered back to his room.

“And modest too.” I turned to his big brother. “A self-portrait next, I think. Titled Genius.”

Caleb grunted, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“I heard that,” Jamie grumbled before slamming the door shut behind him.

“Just when he was starting to like me.” I took a swig of my beer as I felt a hand on my naked thigh. We were having an extremely warm June and so I was still in the shorts and T-shirt I’d put on to wander around Back Bay in the sun earlier that day. I followed the length of his arm all the way up to its owner’s face.

Mirth danced in Caleb’s gaze. “Do you really want tae watch the movie?”

“I thought you wanted to watch the movie?”

His big hand caressed my skin, his fingers disappearing under the hem of my shorts. “You’re being cute. So now I dinnae want tae watch the movie,” he whispered, the amusement giving away to heat.

“I wasn’t being cute.” I leaned toward him. “You just have a one-track—” My phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, cutting me off.

Harper’s name flashed on the screen.

Caleb saw. “Call her back later.”

But I couldn’t.

These last four weeks had been strained between me and my best friend. My uncertainty over her boyfriend meant she was avoiding me, and I didn’t know how to make things right. I felt like I was forcing her to have lunch or drinks with me because when we were together she barely laughed and she seemed on edge, afraid, I think, that I’d ask about Vince.

I didn’t ask about Vince because I just wanted my best friend back.

This was the first time in weeks that Harper had initiated contact.

Caleb knew all this because I’d confessed my concerns. He saw the look on my face. “You better answer it, then.”

I grabbed the phone and answered it on a breathless “Hey.” My heart had started racing a little with relief.

“Ava?”

My blood chilled instantly at the garbled way Harper said my name.

“Harper?”

“Ava,” her voice croaked. “I’m … I’m in trouble.” And then I heard the soft whimpers of her crying, and fear slammed into me.

My eyes flew to Caleb, whose gaze turned questioning. “Harper, where are you? What’s going on?” He leaned toward me at the urgency in my voice.

“I’m in my apartment.” She sobbed and then coughed, spluttering in a way that made me feel sick as I seemed to intuit what she was about to tell me. “Vince attacked me. He’s barricaded me in my bedroom. I managed to grab my phone and hide it on me before he threw me in here. He’s out in the living room. He’s …” She started to cry, soft, heartbreaking cries that brought tears to my own eyes. “He’s high on something.”

“I’m on my way. When I get off the phone, call the police.”

“No,” she said, her voice sharp. “Please, Ava, no police. Please. You can’t. Please.”

I looked up at Caleb. “Okay, no police.”

His expression darkened. What’s going on? he mouthed.

“I’ll be there soon. Just hold tight.”

“Okay,” she whispered and hung up.

“Vince attacked her,” I said, my hands shaking as I got up and reached for my purse on the coffee table. “He’s got her barricaded in her bedroom and she won’t let me call the police. She says he’s on something.”

“You’re not going there alone,” Caleb bit out angrily, pushing up off the sofa to stride past me and across the room. He pounded on Jamie’s door and then threw it open without permission.

“What the fu—?”

“Ava’s friend is in trouble,” Caleb cut him off. “Get your shoes.”

Somewhere in my fear-soaked brain I processed that Jamie followed Caleb out of the room without asking for more of an explanation, and I thought that said a lot of good things about Jamie Scott. It was only when we were all in the elevator together, Caleb holding my hand tight because I couldn’t stop trembling, that Caleb asked me to tell them everything Harper had said on the phone.

I repeated our conversation.

“How far away is she?” Jamie asked as we hurried across the underground parking garage to Caleb’s car. We piled into the Range Rover Sport he’d bought when he first moved to Boston, and I gave Caleb instructions on how to get to her place. She lived in a tiny one-bedroom in Charlestown just off Bunker Hill Street, so it was a mere ten minutes up Route 93.

That ten minutes felt like a goddamn lifetime.

I was jittery with adrenaline, my teeth chattering together and my left knee bouncing constantly.

Caleb reached over and placed a gentle hand on said knee as he was driving. “We’ll get tae her and she’ll be okay,” he promised, so steady. I looked over at him, his profile stern and his gaze focused and determined on the road. He was strong and capable and protective.

I still felt sick, but Caleb’s reassurance and his brother’s presence—their support—calmed me a little. In a perfect world I would be strong enough physically to march into Harper’s apartment and save her from Vince myself. But I was a tiny five foot three and I ran to keep fit. I didn’t lift weights. Vince could overpower me as easily as he’d overpowered Harper, and then where would we be?

It was a sad truth that weeks ago this would have made me feel bitter and frustrated. I was still frustrated, but I didn’t feel bitter that I had to lean on Caleb for help. Perhaps if I didn’t trust him, I would feel resentment that I had to rely on a man for support. But I didn’t see this as having to rely on a man. I saw this as relying on a friend.

He was my friend.

And I’d never been more grateful for him than I was in that moment.

“Here—” I pointed to a small parking lot between her building and the next and then fumbled in my purse for my keys. I had a spare to Harper’s apartment as she had for mine.

Caleb swung into a free spot and I jumped out of the car before he’d stopped moving. I ran toward the modern redbrick building, driven by the need to get to my friend. Seconds from the building door, I suddenly felt the breath knocked out of me as a strong arm encircled my waist. I found myself hauled back against Caleb and he growled in my ear, “Dinnae you jump out of a moving car again.” He shook me a little and I pressed against his arms in an attempt to rush ahead.

“Caleb,” I bit out in warning.

He released me slowly and I turned to match him glare for glare. He held out his hands. “Keys. Stay behind me and Jamie the whole time. You hear?”

Arguing would only have wasted time, so I handed the keys over and fell back behind the two brothers. “Second floor,” I said.

They took the stairs two at a time and I hurried up after them, out of breath from panic and distress by the time we reached her apartment. I pointed to her door and Caleb unlocked it, but when he opened it, it caught on the chain.