“Don’t worry about it.”

Staring around his room, she was shocked by what she saw. Jett’s room was … clean.

He sat down in his chair opposite her, knife in hand, resting the point against his flesh.

“Don’t you ever hurt yourself?”

“Sometimes. What’s a little pain though, right? It makes you feel so alive.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

He shrugged. “No one ever does.”

“I didn’t mean to … invade your space.”

“You really are a little too good for everyone, you know that, right?”

Heat filled her cheeks, and she stared down at her lap. “I think I broke my dad’s nose.”

“No shit.”

“I hit him, hard.”

“Good.”

“How is that good?”

“He hit you. You hit him back. It’s fair.”

“That’s not fair. I shouldn’t have argued with him.”

“And he shouldn’t have cheated on your mom. Can’t handle the truth, don’t do it.” Jett shrugged. “You need to get over your shit, otherwise you’re going to spend the rest of your life miserable.”

“Why do you hang out with the others?”

“They’re my friends.”

“They’re horrible.”

Jett laughed. “You think I’m not.”

“You’re being nice to me.”

Again, this made him laugh harder.

“That’s because I know something you don’t know.”

“And what’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a secret.” Jett’s gaze went to the window. “And here is another secret.”

The window opened, and sure enough, Draven climbed on through.

She had nowhere else to go as he cupped her face, lifting her chin up. “What happened?”

“Stop. It’s fine. You don’t have to worry. It’s all handled.”

“All handled? I went past your house and saw a cop there, Harper. How is that handled? You’ve got a bruise on your cheek. What happened?”

Her father had called the cops?

For real?

She found herself telling Draven exactly what had happened. She didn’t even know why she was being this open with him.

“I don’t know if I can go back home,” she said.

“You shouldn’t hide. One look at your face and the cops will know what happened.”

“I can’t believe he called them.”

“Hannah may have,” Draven said. “I’ll take her back home.”

“No problem. Enjoy.”

Draven climbed out of the window, and she put the blanket, folded, back on the bed. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Harper. Remember, don’t apologize for everything. It’s not all your fault.”

She nodded and climbed out of the window. Draven was there, waiting, his car parked against the curb.

How strange, the four guys she’d avoided had been the ones to stick by her side. Once at the diner and now here. Of course, Axel and Buck aren’t around, but she had a feeling with one call, they would be.

For the multiple time in a matter of days, she sat inside Draven’s car. The ride back to her home was short. The cop wasn’t there when they pulled up outside of her home.

“Do you think you could take me to the bus stop or something?”

“You’re not running away. This is your home as well.”

He got out of the car, and she hated him for it. Why couldn’t he just help her and let her get out of Stonewall?

Her mother had died here. She’d seen her mother’s heartbreak here, and it was all because of the man she had loved.

Draven took her hand and together, they walked up to the door. She expected Draven to ring the doorbell. He didn’t. With his head held high, he stepped over the threshold.

Hannah and Ian rushed to the doorway.

Draven held her hand tightly.

Her father’s nose was covered in a bandage, and she was taken aback by the damage. Already his eyes looked bruised because of it.

“Did you call the cops?” Draven asked.

“I did,” Hannah said, stepping forward. “Harper ran out, and I panicked. I didn’t want her getting hurt. I’ll call them now to know that she’s fine.”

“If they come to take her away, I will hold you personally responsible and you know what my dad is capable of,” Draven said.

“Don’t you dare talk to my wife like that inside my house,” Ian said.

Harper cringed.

“Are you forgetting yourself, old man?” Draven let go of her hand and stepped up to Ian.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have hit him,” Harper said. She let out a squeal as Draven grabbed her and lifted her face up to her father.

She held onto Draven’s wrists, hating being manhandled by him.

“Go ahead, Miller. Call the cops. Let them see what you did to your own daughter. Such a big, tough guy hitting a girl.”

Harper pulled out of Draven’s arms.

“Go to your room, Harper,” Draven said.

She looked from him to her father. The power here confused her. Was her father the one in charge or Draven? She didn’t argue as neither turned toward her. Going to her room, she closed the door and collapsed onto her bed.

What the hell do I do now, Mom? I hit him. I hit him, and it felt good.

I liked it.

Touching her cheek, she got to her feet and took a look in her vanity mirror to see just how bruised her cheek was.

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