Four

~HARPER’S POV~

I stood there in the dark hallway, staring at the stupid little card like it might bite me.

“Walk away now, or you go down with them.”

My fingers shook as I pushed it far into my jacket pocket. I heard heavy steps coming up behind me.

“Harper.”

I turned around. My dad was walking towards me. He was wearing a wrinkled black suit and still had his earpiece in. He looked really tired, like he was carrying a huge burden.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What are you doing back here in the west wing?” He stopped a few feet away, eyes narrowing. “Curfew was an hour ago.”

“Studying. In the library.”

“With Asher Kingston?”

The lie came out too fast. “We had a group thing for history class.”

Dad’s frown deepened. “I told you to keep your head down. These people aren’t like us. Mr. Kingston pays me to watch his gates, not to let my daughter hang around his son.”

“It’s just schoolwork. That’s it.”

“Keep it that way.” He checked his watch. “Head back to the guest house. Lock the door. I’ve got perimeter in ten.”

“Dad, wait…” My hand brushed the note in my pocket. “Anything weird happened today? With the cameras or anything?”

His eyes sharpened. “Why?”

“Big place. Just… curious.”

“No blind spots on my watch,” he said flat. “Go to bed, Harper.”

I nodded and walked away before he could ask more. I didn’t show him the note. I couldn’t. One look and he would start digging. He would find out about the pills, the blackmail, the deal I made. 

Then everything…my scholarship, his job, our roof…would be gone by morning.

I barely slept. Every creak in the old guest house sounded like footsteps.

Next morning the courtyard was crowded as hell. I didn’t slow down. I spotted Asher right away, leaning against the brick wall by the main doors, scrolling on his phone while three hockey guys laughed around him.

I marched straight up.

“We need to talk.”

The laughing stopped. All three guys stared at me like I had grown a second head.

Asher didn’t even look up at first. “I’m busy.”

“Now, Asher.”

The big blond defenseman snorted. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Nobody,” Asher said, finally pocketing his phone. “Give me a minute.” His teammates backed off, but they kept watching. 

Asher took my arm gently and led me away from everyone, into the empty stairwell by the doors. The door shut behind us, making it quiet. 

It was just us, the concrete walls, and not much room.

“What the hell is your problem?” he asked, voice low.

I pulled the card out of my pocket and shoved it in his chest. “Did you write this?”

He caught it before it fell. Glanced down. His jaw ticked hard.

“Where did you get this?” The arrogant tone was gone. Now it was harsh and scary.

“Found it in my backpack last night. Right after I left the library.”

Asher looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “You think I slipped it in there?”

“You were the only one in the room with me.”

“I was across the table the whole time.”

“You were behind me,” I snapped. “Breathing down my neck about that Caesar sentence. Easy enough to drop something in my open bag.”

He stepped closer. “If I wanted to threaten you, Thorne, I wouldn’t waste time typing pretty little notes. I would say it to your face.”

“Then who the hell did it?”

“Did you leave your bag anywhere else yesterday?”

“No. It was with me in class. At the rink. In the locker room when Davis….”

Asher’s eyes flashed. “The locker room.”

“He didn’t do it,” he said, already pacing the tiny space. “Davis is too scared and too dumb for anonymous shit.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know yet.” He stopped right in front of me, close enough that cedar and mint hit me again, mixed with whatever soap he used. “But someone’s noticed you’re spending time with me.”

“Because you forced me to!”

“Keep your voice down.”He put his hands on my shoulders. They felt heavy and warm. He wasn't squeezing, just keeping me there.

“My family has enemies. Real ones. If they think you’re close to me, they will use you to get to my dad.”

“I’m not close to you.”

“They don’t know that.” His thumbs pressed lightly against my collarbone, like he was making sure I was listening. “They see you at the rink. They see you in the estate library at night. They see you getting out of my car.”

“So let me go. Stop the blackmail. Let me disappear again.”

He stared at me for a long second. His hold is still firm. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I drop you cold right now, you look like a loose end. And loose ends get tied off.” His voice dropped even lower. “You’re safer if they think you belong to me.”

“I’m already a target,” I hissed, shoving at his chest. He didn’t budge. “I got a threat in my fucking backpack, Asher.”

“It’s a warning. Not a hit.”

“Feels the same when you’re the poor girl.”

“It’s not the same.” He leaned down until his face was inches from mine. “I deal with this shit every week. You panic over a piece of paper.”

“My dad’s head of security. If I show him….”

“You won’t.” His eyes bored into mine. “Because he will lock the whole estate down. He will pull you out of Sterling. You will be packing bags again by tonight. Is that what you want?”

My throat tightened. He was right. Dad would choose safety over everything, and we would be right back to square one—broke, moving, starting over.

“No,” I whispered.

“Then we handle it my way.” He let go of my shoulders, took the note from my hand, and folded it into his own pocket. “I will find out who sent it.”

“How?”

“I’ve got resources. You don’t.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“You don’t have a choice anymore, Thorne.” He pushed the stairwell door open. The cold air rushed in. “Go to class. Don’t walk anywhere alone. Need your locker? Text me.”

“I’m not texting you every time I need to pee.”

He paused in the doorway, looking back. “Text me, or I will have Hayes follow you around all day like a lost puppy. Your call.”

Then he was gone.

By lunch, my nerves were shredded, every shoulder bump in the hall made me flinch, and every stare felt like it might be the person who wrote the note.

I grabbed a water from the cafeteria line and hid at an empty table in the back corner, textbook open like I was actually studying.

A tray slammed down across from me.

I jumped so hard that water sloshed over my hand. Davis dropped into the seat, no food, just an apple. The bruise on his jaw looked worse today.

“You’re in my seat,” I muttered.

“Free country.” He leaned in, eyes glancing around. “Did Asher talk to you this morning?”

“I don’t talk to Asher.”

“Stop lying. I saw you drag him into the stairwell. Everyone saw.”

“Group assignment.”

“Bullshit.” His voice cracked. “He’s using you, isn’t he? What’d he tell you to do to me?”

“Nothing. Leave me alone, Davis.”

“I know about the new cameras your dad put in at the rink,” he whispered fast. “Asher’s got the codes. If he’s got me on tape with those pills…”

“I don’t know anything about codes.”

“Just tell him I’m done,” he begged, voice shaking. “I will ride the bench. I will sit out. Just don’t let him turn it in.”

“Tell him yourself.”

“He won’t listen to me. He listens to you.”

“No, he doesn’t…”

Someone put a hand on Davis's shoulder. He jumped like he had touched something hot. The big blond guy from this morning…Hayes…stood there, blank-faced. 

Two other hockey players flanked him.

“Time to go, Davis,” Hayes said quietly.

“I was just….”

“Captain said you don’t talk to her. Ever.” Hayes dragged him up by the collar. “New table. Now.”

Davis didn’t look at me again. 

He grabbed his apple and almost ran. The three guys stayed. They sat down. Hayes sat right in front of me. The other two sat next to me. 

I was trapped.

“What are you doing?” I asked, heart beating.

“Eating lunch,” Hayes said, opening a bag of chips like it was normal. “I’m Hayes. That’s Miller and Vance.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Asher said you need an escort today.” He crunched a chip. “So here we are.”

“I don’t need babysitters.”

“Take it up with the captain,” Miller muttered, already scrolling on his phone.

I slammed my textbook shut and stood. “I’m going to the library.”

All three stood at the same time.

“Cool,” Hayes said. “We love the library.”

I stormed out, super mad and feeling really embarrassed. Three huge hockey players followed me, right behind me. People moved out of the way. Whispers trailed behind us.

I yanked out the encrypted phone and typed fast.

“Call off your goons.” 

The reply buzzed back in seconds.

“No.”

I shoved the phone deep in my pocket and kept walking, cheeks burning, feeling every single set of eyes on me.

Like I already belonged to him.