The lots are big, far apart, and the driveways are long. So even if people did still live out here, we’d have some privacy. Not much, because there are no trees, just scrub desert. Enough though.

I set Sasha down as we reach the cracked and buckling sidewalk. She’s quiet. Her ten-minute nap was just enough to subdue her fiery temperament, but not enough to make her enthusiastic about reaching a place that’s not home.

But I’m excited. I smile a little to myself as we walk up the dirty driveway. The sun hasn’t set yet, got a few hours left probably. Enough time to tackle Harper and take her into the bedroom.

I positively grin at that thought. And then Sasha and I reach the porch, climb the concrete steps, and I’m just about to reach for the screen door when it’s kicked open and the barrel end of a gun presses against my temple.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

Chapter Six - Harper

I press the gun against his skin as I play my next move in my head.

“Harper,” James says. “It’s me.”

“Pfft. I know it’s you, ass**le. That’s why I have the gun.” I look over at the girl he’s with and squint at her. “Who’s she?”

“Harper, lower the gun.”

“No. I don’t trust—”

The next thing I know¸ I’m pressed flat against the front door.

“Are you gonna be good?” James asks, his face so close to mine I am forced to look him in the eyes. “Because I just piggy-backed this kid across the desert, I’m sweating my ass off, and this was not the welcome home I was expecting.” He leans into my neck and those familiar prickles are back. All those feelings he brought out in me back at the beach are rushing through my body as heat and trembling and desire. “Answer me, Lionfish.”

But that? That shit snaps me back. I jab him in the ribs with my elbow, twist my foot around his calf, bend over, grab his wrists, and then throw myself backwards. He collapses back onto the porch. I wriggle free, bounce up, and then I’m about to make a grab for the gun when I realize the little girl is pointing it at both of us.

“Stop,” she orders me.

“You’re gonna shoot me?”

“You were gonna shoot him!” she laughs.

James is already up and going for her. She allows him to take the gun and then we all stand there, breathing a little too heavy, suspicion in our eyes, dripping with sweat. “What the f**k, Harper? Jesus Christ. You f**king girls. I’ve had it with your emotional bullshit.” He looks over at his partner, pushes her a little and then nods towards the door. “Get inside.”

“What’d I do?” she whines. “I got the gun back!”

“Just go.”

She stomps off like the kid she is and then James brings that steely glare over to me.

I do not give in. I am in the right here. This ass**le has a lot of explaining to do. He’s not on my side. I’m a job to him. A dirty promise. A dark obsession, maybe. He tucks the gun inside his jeans and steps forward a few paces, halving the distance between us.

“Don’t come any closer, James. I’m warning you.”

“You’re warning me what?” he asks in a whisper. “You’ll lose all control, fall to your knees, and take my c**k in your mouth?”

My mouth opens into a little o-shape because I can’t hide my shock. Dirty talking might be my downfall if I don’t stop reacting. I take a deep breath and pull myself together. “That’s not going to work this time. I know who you are.”

He smiles at that. Smiles.

“You’re a killer, you’re a liar, you’re—”

And then he’s right up next to me and my thoughts are all jumbled again. He’s hot and sweaty and normally this should just gross me out. But all I see is the beautiful. “What else?” he asks softly. His fingertips slide up my bare shoulder to caress the nape of my neck. “Tell me what else I am, Harper.”

I swallow as he pulls me into his chest.

“If you know me, then tell me what else I am.”

“My promise. You’re my promise.”

He squeezes me gently and then rests his chin on my head. “I thought you knew. All these years, I thought your father would’ve at least given you a picture. Or had you spy on me from afar.”

James’ words come out with such longing, such surprise, such… amazement. He wins again. All I hear is the beautiful. “Like you did me?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Like that. I watched you grow up. Every year your father sent for me on your birthday. And I want you to know, Harper, that I turned him down every time. I never wanted you—”

“I know you never wanted me, ass**le.” Bitchy Harper is back with that admission. I pull the little notebook from my pocket and then push James off me. “Because I found this and it spelled all that out pretty clearly.”

He looks at it for a few seconds and I can see his mind whirling. Because he can’t deny it.

“That’s true.” He nods, agreeing with me. “Everything in that little book is true. It came from my heart.”

“Your heart? You hated me!”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t hate you, Harper. You were just a little girl caught up in this shit. How could I hate you?”

I untangle myself from his embrace and step back. I need space between us. Because what he says now and what he felt then are polar opposites. How do I reconcile this? “I have your own words in here, James!”