The entire ACOTAR series is on our sister website: novelsforall.com

We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Trapped with Mr. Walker: Chapter 31

Reed

Paige?” I ask Stu as I head back into the office and see he got back before me.

“Yeah, good.” He keeps his eyes on the paperwork in front of him.

“I’ll join you next time. I haven’t seen her since we all went for dinner.” I roll my lips, the memory making me think of Harley and how stunning she had looked that night, dressed in another pink dress. One I vividly remember peeling off her afterward.

“Sounds great. She’d love that.”

“I took a longer lunch myself in the end. I met Griffin.”

Stu turns his head and watches me walk around the table to place my jacket on the back of my chair before taking a seat.

“You were at The Songbird?”

“Yeah. Perks of him being the boss, no waiting on a table even during prime time.”

I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankles. To anyone who didn’t know me, they’d think I looked relaxed. But I’m far from it. The tension taking over my body is enough to render me immobile if I don’t at least try to stretch it out.

“He okay?”

“He’s good. He looks better than last week.”

Now that Rosie is being looked after by the bird charity, Griffin is probably getting sleep again. It’s ironic. Because now I’m the one who isn’t. I could have taken over all the night feeds the way my eyes stay open. I just can’t clear my mind enough to sleep. And after lunch with Griffin today, and what I’ve learned, I can’t see that resolving any time soon.

Chronic insomnia, my new roommate.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out, hoping it’s Harley returning my call.

It’s a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Reed?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a muscle in my jaw ticks.

“What do you want, Bea?” I grit out.

“Can’t I call and see how the future mayor is?”

I stay silent.

“Look.” She sighs. “I know you and I have history. But I thought we could at least try to get along now that you’re back in New York again.”

“We could,” I answer. “But the city is big enough that I don’t see how we’ll bump into each other enough for there to be a problem whether we do or not.”

She laughs, but it’s laced with an undercurrent of something I can’t put my finger on. She was always scheming and up to something. That’s one thing I remember about her from when we dated. She was always making friends with people who could benefit her. The number of nights out Bea used to go on, and not pay for a thing as she had managed to buddy up with the next new club promoter, or bar owner.

“Oh, you always could make me laugh. It’s rare, you know, for a man to be intelligent, good looking, and funny.”

“Why did you call, Bea?” I keep my tone flat. Any hint of interest and she will latch on to it and try to manipulate it to her advantage somehow.

“I’m just being a friend, looking out for a friend. That’s all. Did you enjoy the basket?”

I glance at Stuart. He said Shannon’s mom was thrilled with it. A way to win favor with the future mother-in-law.

“It was appreciated.”

“Good. You know, you could have shared it with Harley if the two of you were still together.”

I grunt in annoyance. I wouldn’t discuss Harley with her when she dropped in unannounced the first time. And that’s when Harley and I were together, and everything was going great. Like hell am I going to talk to Bea about Harley now.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Wait, Reed.” Her voice softens. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up. But I am sorry to hear things didn’t work out between you both. Perhaps you’ll figure it out.”

I grit my teeth, inhaling through my nose as she weaves out her empty sympathies. I don’t need her well wishes, and I sure as fuck don’t want them.

“Perhaps. Now, if there wasn’t any other reason for your call?”

“Only,” Bea adds, “she looked rather upset in the photos. I think this is hard for her. It must be reassuring, knowing you have such good friends who are there to offer support.”

She’s baiting me. I can tell by the deliberate pause as she waits for me to process her words. But fuck if I’m going to give her the satisfaction.

“Yes, we’re both very fortunate. Goodbye, Bea.”

I end the call and throw my phone down on the desk in disgust, turning to my computer and typing in Harley’s name. If there are recent photographs that Bea has seen, then they must be on one of the online news pages, because Stuart keeps on top of all things being reported. And he hasn’t mentioned anything, other than more rumors about my upcoming selection announcement.

“She does not give up, that one,” Stuart says, his eyes still scanning over the printed report in his hands.

“She should learn to.”

I crack my knuckles as the first news site brings up nothing. Although, that’s a more business-focused one. I click into the address bar and bring up the online news page for the New York equivalent of drunken gossip around the photocopier at an office party. This particular news outlet is the one that was running the poll over when I would ask Harley to marry me. And also the one that snapped our first real public kiss after the question session in the park.

The page loads and I don’t even have to dig around to find what Bea was gloating over during her call.

“Stu?” I bark.

He raises his eyes to mine.

I spin the screen toward him with so much force, the keyboard clatters to the floor.

“This doesn’t look like lunch with Paige. This looks like you in Central Park with Harley.”

Stuart’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth, flapping it like a fish.

“So that’s lie number one today.” I seethe, the back of my neck burning as I glare at him. “Now, don’t make the next words out of your mouth be lie number two.” I jab my finger at the screen, straight into the embracing couple that’s plastered all over the front page of the news site with the caption, Did Mrs. Walker walk into the arms of another?

“You want to tell me why the fuck you have your arms around her?”

“It’s not what you think.” Stuart takes a breath and regains his composure, his calm mask slipping firmly back into place.

“You don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking.” I leave the screen turned toward him. I don’t want to look at Harley in another man’s arms for a second longer than necessary.

“I did take Paige for lunch,” Stuart says calmly. “And I invited Harley to join us.”

I bang my fists on the table and stand, but Stuart doesn’t flinch. He just watches me coolly from his seat.

“Tell me why you have your fucking hands on her? And I swear to God, if you lie, or I don’t like your answer, then I will remove your head from your body with a blunt instrument and make it look like an accident.”

He smiles.

“What the fuck was funny about what I just said?” I snap, my chest heaving like I’m about to explode. There’s an overwhelming throbbing in my hands that even flexing them in and out of a fist doesn’t ease.

Perhaps slamming them into Stu’s face will help.

“It’s not funny,” he declares as his lips drop back to a firm line. “You two are made for each other. That’s why I smiled. Although Harley’s approach is less… caveman.” He side-eyes me and then drops his pen down on to the table with a sigh.

“She was upset. I was being a friend.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I snap.

“A friend to both of you.” He turns in his chair and fixes his eyes on mine. “Look. There’s no easy way to tell you this. I’m just going to come out with it.”

“Go on.” I tilt my head side to side, my neck cracking as I try to ease the tension.

Stuart rolls his lips and nods to himself.

“Someone has been trying to blackmail her. They wanted her to persuade you to re-select George Yates for NYPD commissioner. She looked like she was about to cry, and I got the impression she didn’t want to upset Paige. So I held her while she had a moment to herself. She’s trying to help you. Everything she’s doing, the reason she’s so upset, is that she wants to help you. But she doesn’t know what to do. She’s scared.”

I close my mouth, sealing in the threat I was about to issue before it leaves my lips. Then I sink back into my chair.

She’s scared.

“Angel,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes with one hand, wishing more than anything that she was here, that she’d answered my call earlier, and I could have spoken to her. I thought about going up to Griffin’s office after lunch to see her. But Griffin said she wouldn’t be there as he had sent her to take minutes for some meeting that started straight after her lunch break.

“Who told you?” I drop my hand, my stinging eyes wearier than ever.

Stuart’s brow shoots up. “You already know?”

“She went to Griffin for help.” I pause. “And I guess that means you already know what they’re using against her?”

Stuart nods gravely. “I do.”

“Have you seen it?” I hold his gaze, my stomach knotting as unwanted memories try to claw their way to the front of my mind. I force them away as I swallow the bile in my throat.

“The beginning. Not all of it. But enough.”

“I see.”

The two of us look at one another, not speaking. What words are there? I don’t want him to tell me he’s sorry. Not for something that happened years ago. And what can I say? It’s not like I’m going to break down and bring up a load of shit from the past that I really want to forget about. I wasn’t lying when I told Harley that I don’t think of it anymore. And any lingering trace of it that affected the way I acted, the way I behaved, left me the night that I opened up and shared it with her at her mom’s house.

She healed that final part of me.

It’s like my subconscious knew when I began calling her Angel. I’ve never called anyone else this. Only her. My very own healing angel, who’s changed me in more ways than she will ever know.

“Have you seen it?” Stuart asks, finally breaking the heavy silence.

“No. I don’t need to.” I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t remember much of it at all. Why would I want to watch it? Then it would be complete in my mind. Something I have no interest in ever thinking of again.

“Don’t you think—?”

“No. I do not think. Griffin said the quality is so poor that he can’t even make out her face. If I thought she might be identifiable, then maybe it would be worth dragging it all up. But she isn’t. Griffin said she has her back to the camera most of the time. It’s just a fuzzy image from a random night years ago,” I mutter, hating that it’s intent on haunting me after all this time.

Stu leans back in his chair and blows out a long breath.

“So, how do you know about it?” I ask.

“Griffin.”

I purse my lips. “He came to you?”

“In a way.” Stu loosens his tie and runs a hand around his jaw. “I knew about the assault already.”

He pauses. Maybe he’s expecting a reaction from me. But he doesn’t get one. I sit deathly silent and still as I listen.

“I’ve known about it since before I agreed to be your campaign manager. I do a full background check on everyone I work with. It’s my job to pre-empt any situations where your past could be used as a weapon. I saw your medical records with the therapy sessions. I didn’t see the notes. But I saw the sessions you were recommended to attend for Rape Survivors. And that you only attended one.”

I grunt.

I didn’t need to talk about it any more than I already was. I wanted to move on as fast as I could and leave it behind me. Talking to my therapist helped. But his suggestion that announcing it in front of a room of strangers might be helpful just made me want to try to throw myself off a tall building again. And I know Griffin would kill me himself if I tried to pull anything like that again.

I crack my knuckles absentmindedly as Stuart continues.

“Griffin came to me after Harley asked him for help. He wanted details on every opponent you were up against, every vocal member of the public who wasn’t in support of you. He wanted anything I had that might lead him to who sent that video. But all he would tell me was that someone was trying to hurt you. And that they were using Harley to do it. I knew there wasn’t anything else it could be. It only took a purposefully loaded comment from me, to test Griffin’s reaction, to confirm I was correct.”

“That must have been cozy for the two of you. Playing white knights for poor damsel Reed,” I snipe.

“Don’t be an ass. We’re doing it because you and Harley are our friends. We wanted to wait a couple of days until we told you. We hoped we would have found out who sent it first. Griffin knew you would want to make them pay. I would too. For what they’re putting you through—”

“What they’re putting Harley through.” I stop cracking my knuckles and stare at him. “I couldn’t give a shit about me. I was there. I lived through it. A video is nothing in comparison.”

“They’re threatening to make it public.”

“No. They’re threatening Harley. Telling her that she’s the one who will make it go public if she doesn’t do their dirty work for them. They’re reliant on her. If they release it, they have nothing.”

“They might release it if she doesn’t do what they want. There’s no way to know if they’re bluffing or not.”

“Fuckers,” I hiss.

They have her cornered and they know it. If she tries to do what they’re asking, then she’s betraying me. If she doesn’t do it, or she tries and fails, then they say they’ll release it. Either way, she feels like she loses. No wonder she’s been so emotional. Her moving out, telling me it was the spotlight she didn’t want, and that our relationship was moving too fast. It’s all a load of shit. It’s what she thought she had to tell me because she had no choice.

They took it from her.

Just like my choice was taken from me that night.

“We need to find them,” I say to Stuart. “I know Harley. She will torture herself with this until we do. I can’t let them keep hurting her. This should be my problem, not hers.”

“Try telling her that. She’s fighting for you, Reed. She could have walked away, not wanting to get involved, and left it at that. But she didn’t. She went to Griffin, your best friend, whom she knows you trust with your life. And she begged him to help and not tell you. He obviously didn’t listen to the second part, and I’m glad. But she did all of that. And then she took herself away from you to buy time while she figured out her next move. She’s smart.”

“I know. She’s incredible.” I lean my head into my hands and fist my fingers into my hair. “She’s fucking incredible,” I whisper.

The pink outfits, the blonde hair, the animal videos, and the talking to plants. People might assume Harley isn’t bright. But they’d be wrong. She’s dazzling. And to underestimate her would be a mistake. And what’s more, she’s strong. My girl is so fucking strong.

“I need to see her, Stu.” I jump out of my chair and grab my jacket.

“Stop.”

His word halts me.

“When I saw her at lunchtime, she said she was leaving work early to run errands on her way back to her friend’s house she’s staying at. You’ll never track her down. Just wait until she gets back.”

I swipe my cell phone up from where I threw it on the desk and dial her number. It goes straight to voicemail.

“Fuck,” I hiss, canceling the call before the voicemail kicks in.

“Look.” Stuart shoves the report he was reading into its file and stuffs it into his briefcase. “Let’s stop by and see Griffin. The three of us can really hammer out where we’re at and try to make some sense of what’s going on now that we all know what’s happened.”

“The first members’ meeting of the Reed Rape Club.” I grimace and Stuart arches a brow at me.

“I wouldn’t use that as your next campaign slogan,” he throws back with a smirk.

“No. It’s a crime. And it doesn’t even rhyme,” I mutter before catching his eye and letting my lips twitch.

That’s one thing I learned in therapy all those years ago. Look for reasons to smile, however small. My reason is a five-foot seven blonde who leaves a trail of pink glittery threads and the scent of coconut shampoo behind her. But she isn’t here. So all I have is a warped sense of humor about something serious.

I used to wonder as a kid why people made jokes about serious subjects. But now I know. It’s because they’d rather laugh than cry. And if you take control of how you view something, then you can choose how it affects you. To an extent, anyway. It’s hard as fuck to do when it’s something that’s trying to swallow you whole. I remember Griffin pulling me through some dark days. Pulling me through and out the other side to face another. Because as long as you don’t give up, then there will always be another side. Another day.

But there will never be another Harley. The knowledge that she has been going through all of this alone burns away at me.

It’s time to put a stop to it.

Stuart and I lock up and head uptown, toward The Songbird. I know if there’s a way to find out who is behind this, then Griffin and Stuart are the best men to help me. Between us, we know the whole of New York in some way or another.

There’s nowhere to hide in this city.

Despite the adrenaline surging through my blood like an out-of-control wildfire, and it being the perfect time to get stuck into it with Griffin and Stuart, all I can think of is one person.

My person.

And being with her.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset