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  “Hello, Harper.” My shuddering sends goose bumps across my flesh. My hands clench into fists at my side as my eyes squeeze tight shut. I’m not quick enough to stop the tear from rolling down my cheek though.

  “Why the tears, are you in pain? Well, I think I can help take your mind off that…” His fingers brush against the skin on my leg, causing me to hold my breath until my lungs hurt, and finally I get the tranquillity I’m searching for as everything goes black.

  Most normal people find the noise too much, letting it get to them as they try to make themselves heard over the screech of the tyres or engine noise. Not me. It has the opposite effect on me. I find it a calming influence. The minute I’m trackside and can feel the vibrations running through my body as the noise envelops me, a stillness washes over me. I block everything else out and concentrate on the hum of the engines. The car tells me what it needs, tells me what I need to do to win. It’s not rocket science; its high speed and a constant left-hand turn. This is my last race of the season, and I intend to make it memorable. The fear and apprehension I’ve felt all week subsides as my body tunes in to the atmosphere surrounding me. Today’s my last chance to stop this, once and for all. I can and will put an end to all of this.

  Stuart’s by my side now, dragging me from my reverie, handing me my fire-resistant hood and watching me intently as I tie my hair back in a loose bun and slip the hood over my head. He’s meticulous about my safety as he tucks an errant strand of hair back underneath my hood. “One spark and that will go up like bonfire night!” I don’t respond, and he doesn’t expect me to. I’m in the zone and Stuart knows that. He fits my gloves and double-checks all the fastenings on my racing gear, making sure he’s happy I’ve done everything to his standards, before he hands me my helmet, which he naturally fastens beneath my chin. Once I’m strapped into the car, Stuart flicks the radio switch and waits for me to confirm I can hear him loud and clear. Only then does he give his consent for the car to move into a starting position. “You only need to come top three to win. Don’t kill yourself trying to claim first.” The tap on my helmet and the wave of his hand in front of my visor indicate it’s time.

  My whole body feels twitchy as my eyes never leave the safety car in front. Once he leaves the track, I just need to watch for the marshal with the green flag, then its game on. I can do this. Screw the thirty points I need to win. I want the full fifty, I want first. I need to make this count in order to soothe me. As I round the next corner, a flash of green wafts in the corner of my vision and it’s all I need. My body calms as I reach full speed on the straight.

  Lap one is tucked away nicely under my belt, and there are only two drivers ahead of me. I’ve got this in the bag. If I win this season, well, then it ends. I can accept the offer from the US Autosport team and move to the States. Far away from him. I’ll be living the dream without all the fear and humiliation he supplies me with. Taking a steadying breath, my anger is channelled back into the race as I move to take the car in front of me. I can hear my team through my earpiece. All talk of trajectories, levels and tyres is pushed to the back of my mind as I head towards the third bend, pole position within my grasp as the adrenalin surges through my body.

  “C’mon, Harper. Keep on it, honey. Nice and tight, that’s it.” That’s all it takes. He’s in my head, invading all of the space within me, creeping through my body as the ice overtakes my veins. “We’re going to celebrate properly tonight…” My body freezes as his words wash over me, enveloping me whole. My skin begins to crawl with the memory of his so-called celebrations.

  In the blink of an eye, the corner is upon me. I’ve left it too late. It’s now or never. My chance to end the degradation is here. It’s a different path from the one I intended to take today, but it’s an end all the same. My decision is made as my arms voluntarily relax, letting the car take me on a whole new course, not around the track but straight into the crash barrier. I should feel scared but I don’t. Instead it’s only liberation that runs through me now. As the car hurtles me at a frightening speed towards an almost certain ending, my mind flashes to Stuart and his need to keep me safe. The hurt this will cause him is almost unbearable to think about, but I have no other option now. It’s my only get-out clause.

  The impact forces my head forwards, crashing into the controls before my harness jerks me backwards again. The cracking noise in my neck vibrates around my helmet as I’m thrown around like a rag doll. The last thing I feel is the back end of the car rising skywards as I lose consciousness.

  It’s over. Serenity prevails throughout as my body stills and relaxes.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Flynn

  I’m back in the garage and trying not to listen in to the raised voices coming from the office. Michael is obviously not happy about Phil’s absence. Seems he’s becoming very difficult to get hold of, if I’m hearing it correctly. Taking the opportunity to look around while everyone else is busy, I’m drawn back to the pictures of Harper and Phil. Something looks off, she looks uncomfortable. If that’s the guy who’s been mentoring her since forever, then surely she’d be at ease with him? The photos tell a different story. Pulling one down from its resting place on the wall, I study her face more closely. Her eyes tell me she’s frightened. Her body language is all wrong. She’s hunched away from the man and tense as all holy hell. It’s then that I study his face more closely and it hits me where I’ve seen him before.

  He’s the guy that I’ve seen leaving Harper’s room. She’s always sad or crying when I’ve seen him leaving. He’s hurting her somehow. I feel an overwhelming need to get to her, I don’t know why, and everything just feels wrong and disjointed. The uneasy feeling that’s settled in the depths of my stomach is propelling me towards Michael’s voice. I need to get out of here and back to Bluebell Hill now, and he’s my ride out of here.

  I don’t have time to explain my theory to Michael, and to be honest, there isn’t much of a theory at all, call it more gut instincts. He’s not convinced by my suspicions, but granted I haven’t given him much to go on. I think Phil’s hurting Harper, is basically all the info I have right now, but thankfully he sees the panic within me and goes along with it, just in case.

  I don’t care why he’s going with it, just that he is. Harper’s in trouble and I somehow know I have to save her.

  *****

  “Get the fuck away from her, now!” The door to Harper’s room slams against the wall, punctuating my command. The scene that greets me is sickening. He’s hunched over my girl with his hands all over her, and her clothing is rumpled around her hips and pulled down around breasts. I can see her whole body shaking violently from all the way across the room. She’s crying softly, almost inwardly, as her fists clench by her sides. His pants are undone and he’s exposed for all to see. He’s made no move to right himself or my girl. He’s stunned by the intrusion on his little act.

  I’ve crossed the room in less than four steps. “Move. Now.” My hand is clenched around his throat, almost lifting him from the floor as my spit showers over his face. Both his hands are wrapped around the one of mine that’s holding him aloft, trying to free himself from my death grip.

  “Harper, tell him we were just having a little fun. Tell him you’re my girlfriend, we’re together, please. Stop him,” the monster gasps out, his words a desperate plea to my girl. His hands are held up now, in submission, as he continues to gasp for air.

  My girl.

  I turn to look at her as the tears form rivers down her cheeks. Her body is exposed and she’s sobbing silently. Her whole body is shaking, and I know I need to protect and comfort her, but my priority is ending this monster first.

  “Flynn, let him go.” Michael is standing at the entrance to Harper’s room, filling the doorframe with his body. He’s crying silent tears too as he takes in the enormity of what he sees, his so-called best friend abusing his daughter. His face contorts with anger as he races to my side. “It’s my job to protect my daughter, n
ot yours. I subjected her to this…man; I need to fix this.” His hands are on my shoulders, trying to pull me away from Phil. He wants his pound of flesh too. When he can’t move me, he merely swings his fist, allowing it to connect squarely with Phil’s jaw. Blood sprays from his mouth, covering all three of us.

  My fist will not relax from around his throat. I’m holding him steady now for Michael to lay into. Fear and anger are forcing my grip to tighten. Phil is choking at my hands, but there is nothing I can do to stop it now. I’m not in control, my anger is, as Michael continues to rain punch after punch on the man I’m holding steady, while he continues to ask, “Why?”

  “When a girl is crying like that, she isn’t having fun. Crying usually means she’s unhappy or you’re hurting her. Do you understand? Do you see how upset she is?” I’m shaking him now to make my point, turning him towards my girl so he can see just how frightened she is.

  “She likes it, she loves me. Tell them, Harper.” The words are his only defence, and they break me as my clenched fist slams into his nose, flattening it and splattering me with his blood yet again.

  “Love? She doesn’t love you. Look at her, she hates you.” My fist slams into his face again.

  “Flynn! No!” Harper’s cries bring a halt to the tirade my fist wants to rain on him. She’s holding out her hand towards me as her father’s hands grip my shoulders.

  “Enough now, son. Let me finish him.” Michael’s strong arms guide me towards my girl as Penny gathers the sheet to cover her exposed flesh.

  “Take care of Harper. I’ve called the police. They’re on their way.” Penny steps away from the bed, giving me access to my girl. I wrap my arms around Harper and pull her into my chest, cradling her head as she sobs. I try to block out the noise of Michael finishing the job we both started on Phil.

  Hospital security are crowding the room now, trying to assess the carnage that has unfolded on their watch. “Mr Lawrence?” One of them steps into the middle of the one-sided fight, pulling Harper’s father backwards.

  Penny-with-the-awesome-rack steps forward, suddenly taking charge of the situation in a no-nonsense style that I would not have expected from her. Within seconds she has the whole room under control and the security team is restraining Phil.

  “Flynn, the police are on their way. I need you to wash up. You’re covered in blood. This is the last thing you need when you have that pretty little trinket on your ankle. You’ll serve time for Grievous Bodily Harm. Nobody wants that for you.” Michael is throwing up in the waste bin as Penny steers me towards the sink unit in the corner. “Let me handle this. I’ll give a statement to the police and make sure you’re kept out of this mess. As far as I’m concerned, you entered the room after Mikey. He hit him, you took care of Harper. Are we clear?”

  “But I—”

  “Are. We. Clear? This is all on Mike, Flynn.”

  I can only nod in return. Nobody has ever put my needs first before, and I’m sure as Hell willing to pay the price in return for Harper’s safety. She’s safe now, and that’s all that I care about. Nurse Smarty Pants runs in with an ice pack, which she holds firm against my knuckles. I hadn’t acknowledged the pain in my hand until now. It’s already started to swell.

  “We’ll get that x-rayed for you.” The nurse tries to steer me out of the room, but I need to be with Harper. “The police will be here any minute. Go with the nurse, I’ll take care of Harper until you get back. Go.” Penny is rubbing my arm reassuringly.

  Harper is trying to smile reassuringly at me from underneath the protective arm of her father. “I’m okay.” I know she’s anything but okay. The tears are still falling freely. She holds her hand out for me to take, squeezing mine gently. “Please, Flynn.”

  “I need to stay with you, I need to take care of you. I’ve done a lousy job so far.”

  “No. Go fix your hand and come back to me.” It’s the most any of us have heard her say. Her voice is cracking with emotion, but she’s smiling through her tears at least now.

  I nod, allowing the nurse to steer me away from the room. We’re a few feet down the corridor when I turn to see the police enter and handcuff Phil Braxton. The last thing I hear is one of the officers speaking to the monster. My head is forcing me to follow the nurse towards the x-ray room, but my heart tells me I need to be back in that room, looking after the girl who’s stolen my heart. The battle between the two is enormous.

  I don’t know quite when or how it happened, because I swear to God, I really didn’t set out to fall in love with anyone, let alone Harper, but I guess my mother was right when she told me that you can’t help who you fall in love with. Because I am in love with her. I’m in love with all that she is, was and can be again. I’m in utter turmoil. I don’t know which way to turn or just what I’m supposed to do now. In all my life I’ve never felt so protective of anyone. It’s as though she’s a part of me. There’s a strange, dull ache in the middle of my chest where my heart used to beat, and I can’t help but try to rub away the pain with my good hand.

  “They’ll take good care of her, I’m sure of it. Let’s just get a look at your hand and I’ll have you back there in no time at all.” The nurse smiles encouragingly as she steers me towards the three small blue chairs set back against the speckled white wall before going to speak to the bored-looking clerk.

  Amongst the hushed whispers and sideways glances, I figure they’re talking about much more than getting my hand x-rayed. I guess news travels fast around here. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what they think about me. I did what needed to be done and I’d do it again without a second thought. My only regret is I didn’t figure it out sooner. Maybe I could’ve protected her from all the pain and humiliation.

  I’d seen him leaving Harper’s room more than once, and every time she’d be distressed and closed down, more so than usual, but I never pieced it together. Damn, I even thought he was a therapist or some other official guy, sent to help her recover. I didn’t think he was hurting her. Harper in pain, physically or emotionally, is not really something I care to think about. He was supposed to protect her, nurture her even, not humiliate her and force her to do those things. She trusted him and I want to kill him. That is, if Michael hasn’t done it already.

  I’m absently rubbing away at the ache in my chest when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder, bringing relief from my internal torture. Raising my head from its resting position against the wall and opening my eyes, I acknowledge Penny-with-the-awesome-rack standing in front of me. “How’s she doing? Have they taken him away yet?”

  “She’s doing okay. Her doctor’s just shown up with a sedative, but she refused to take it. She’s waiting to see you instead. They’ve taken that Braxton guy away, arrested him for assault, I think. There’s still an officer talking to Mike, but I think he’s got it all under control. Have you been seen yet? Harper sent me to check up on you.”

  “Flynn Sullivan?” The girl from behind the desk waits for me to respond, which I do with a head nod. “Room one is ready for you, just go straight on in.”

  Penny takes the seat next to mine as I stand to make my way into the x-ray room. “I’ll wait. Harper won’t be happy if I return without her Flynn.” For some reason, that makes me chuckle. Being ‘her Flynn’ gives me a warm kinda feeling, which instantly makes the ache disappear, but she’s right, I am hers. She owns me completely.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Flynn

  Just how long does it take to check over a couple of x-rays? We’ve been sitting here for over half an hour, waiting while the doctor looks at my pictures. That’s thirty minutes that I could have spent making sure that Harper is okay. I’ve gone from sitting and tapping my head against the wall to now pacing up and down as I count the floor tiles. I just need to get back to Harper. As I pass by Penny-with-the-awesome-rack for the thirtieth time, she makes a weird humph noise and stands.

  “I’ll go chase up the doctor. You’re driving me nuts with the walking up and down. Can’t y
ou at least vary your damned route?” She huffs again as she turns her attention to getting things sorted again.

  Turning away from her, I carry on with my rhythmic pacing, cradling my hand against my stomach as I turn to make the journey back up the waiting area. Funny how it wasn’t even painful until they x-rayed it. Now it hurts like Hell.

  “Flynn.” My head springs up at the sound of her voice. Michael is standing in the doorway with Harper in a wheelchair. She’s strapped in tight with a blanket across her lower body. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying and she looks pale and tired, but she’s here.

  “Sorry, son, I couldn’t convince her to stay put ‘til you got back. The doctor said it was fine to wheel her up here.” Michael’s trying to manoeuvre the chair around the waiting room towards where I’m standing. My eyes are locked on to Harper’s as her father parks the wheelchair in front of me and snaps on the brake. “I’ll go help Penny…” He pats my shoulder before he turns to stride away. His own bloodied hand doesn’t go unnoticed by me, but it’s a silent acknowledgement that passes between us. He dealt with it so I didn’t have to.

  Crouching down in front of my girl, I cup her face with my hand, stroking my thumb across her cheek. The need to scan her face for any telltale sign that she’s hurting is overbearing. I hate that she’s strapped into the chair so tightly. All I want to do is lift her out and into my arms where I know I can keep her safe.

  “How’re you doing? Are you hurt?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever asked. She’s anything but fine.

  “Been worse.” She smiles through the fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

  The nurse chooses that precise moment to appear from the doctor’s office with my x-rays clutched in her fist. She’s smiling, so I take that as a good sign. “Nothing broken. The swelling should go down in a few days and it’ll be sore for a while, but it should be fine. It gives you any trouble, you should go see your own doctor for advice.”