Are mother and son really moving on to kill Harper’s mother in her place?
I start walking. I need Danielle in my sights and I need her in my sights now. If she dies, it’s on me.
***
Eric
We’re about to touch down and incredibly, Harper has yet to move. “Wake up, princess.” I stroke her hair. “We’re landing.”
Her eyes go wide and she tries to sit up, but she gets caught in the seatbelt. “Any news?” She frees herself. “Is my mother okay?”
“No news,” I say, wishing like hell that wasn’t the truth. I hit the button to raise her seat. “The internet has been out for the past few hours.”
“Hours? It’s been hours?” She runs her hand through her hair. “I need to know she’s okay. I can’t believe I even slept.”
“Your mother is fine. We have eyes on her with Walker Security. And you slept, because you were exhausted, with good reason. It’s not been an easy twenty-four hours.”
“Did you sleep? Please tell me you did. I don’t even remember us laying down to rest.”
“I did,” I say, amazed at how she worries about me. No one worries about me. I don’t let them close enough to even think about me. The engines shift for landing and I glance at my watch and then back at Harper. “It’s one in the morning. We’ll make it to Blake’s offices before sunrise, talk with him for a few hours, and then go try to get some more rest.” We hit the runway and I grab Harper’s hand, lacing our fingers together. “In my bed, Harper. Together. Something to look forward to.”
“Hmm. Yes.” Her eyes light. “It is. I want to see how the bastard lives. I wonder what your bedroom looks like. Do you secretly have a fetish for pink?”
“The only fetish I have is you,” I assure her, pleased that she’s, at least momentarily, forgotten the danger on the ground.
“And that,” I add, “is no secret.” My phone buzzes with a text, signaling we’re now at tower level. I grab my cell and glance down at the screen to find a message from Adam that reads: Call me.
I dial his number and he answers in one ring with, “About damn time.”
A reply that sets me on edge, or rather, more on edge than I already am. “We’re still in the air. Talk to me.”
Harper grabs my arm. “Is that Adam? Is my mother safe?”
“Is Danielle safe?” I ask, relaying her worry.
“Yes,” Adam says. “Danielle’s safe.”
I glance at Harper and give a nod. She breathes out in relief and settles into her seat.
“But there’s an interesting twist,” Adam adds.
"I'm listening,” I say, choosing my words cautiously as to not alarm Harper.
“Danielle fought with Gigi. Gigi then called your father and I got the impression it might be the two of them plotting against you and Harper. He never returned her call, but he did something far more interesting. He got on a plane to New York City. Your father is on his way to you and Harper.”
What the hell? I think, biting back the words, again, for Harper’s benefit.
“What else?”
“Private plane. I’ll let you know when he’s on the ground. It’s a couple hours behind you.”
We exchange a few more coded words and disconnect.
“What’s happening?” Harper asks, leaning in close. “What just happened because I can tell you were choosing your words cautiously and that makes me nervous all over again.”
More like, what the hell is happening? I think as the numbers in my mind start to spin, looking for my father’s angle, and one word keeps coming to me over and over, wanting to be recognized: Murder. There is murder in the air and I need to keep Harper close and safe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN