Dirty Daddies Underground のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Harper's POVI rush through the door and the moment it closes behind me, the sting in my arm worsening with every heartbeat. The blood’s already soaking through the thin material of my sleeve, sticky and hot against my skin. I move fast, straight to the kitchen, opening drawers, rummaging through cabinets in a flurry that’s quickly turning frantic.The first aid kit is missing.Of course it is.I glance up at the cupboard above the refrigerator and feel my stomach twist. It’s always there. Always on the top damn shelf where I can’t reach it without dragging out the stool. No matter how many times I tell Mark it needs to be accessible in an emergency, he still insists on storing it where only someone over six feet tall or with a ladder can reach it.“Unbelievable,” I mutter, gritting my teeth as I stalk across the kitchen.I drag the stool across the floor, the legs screeching loudly against the tiles. My arm pulses with a fresh wave of pain as I climb up carefully, balancing with one

Harper POVI’m stitched up now, a thick white bandage wrapped tight around my arm, the ache beneath it dull and pulsing but no longer sharp. Mark has his arms around me as we sit curled together on the couch, the glow of the television flickering across the room in colors I don’t really see. Some show is playing, something loud and fast-paced, but it barely touches the edges of my thoughts. I can’t follow the plot, or even the sound of the dialogue.My mind is foggy, stretched thin from everything that’s happened, but underneath the exhaustion, there’s something deeper. I don’t know how to name it, just this weight in my chest that makes it hard to breathe right. I want to let it go. I want to take everything I’m holding, all the fear and guilt and tension that’s burrowed under my skin, and hand it over to someone else. Just for a while. Just long enough to feel what it’s like not to carry it anymore.My thoughts drift back to last night.The way I felt in that room. The way the air p

Theo's POVI know that Nathan might just deliver some serious CBT if he ever finds out, and not the kind I’d volunteer for.“Theo.”Nathan’s voice snaps through the air, and I blink up. His eyes are locked on mine with that hard, suspicious edge I’ve learned to fear.“Quick question,” he says, jaw tight. “What the fuck have you done?”“Me?” I arch an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Nothing. I’ve been sitting here the whole time. You’ve seen me.”Mason snorts. “Yeah, physically. But mentally? You’ve been gone for the last ten minutes. You’ve got that look again.”“What look?” I ask, trying not to let the smirk creep in.“That thing you do,” Mason says. “Where your eyes glaze over like you’re having an entire fucking conversation with yourself in your head.”I shrug. “No one else around here is fun to talk to.”Nathan narrows his eyes. “And you said, out loud, might I add, that I might perform some serious CBT on you?”Ah. Shit.There’s a beat of silence. Mason raises his eyebrows, then st

Harper's POVMark turns, his body stiffening as his eyes lock on the mess. The warmth that had been so close only a moment ago vanishes from his expression. He doesn't speak at first, only stares at the broken glass with a look I can't place. There is no shock in his face, no confusion, only something cold and coiled.“That was my grandmother’s,” he says, his voice so quiet it feels louder than a shout. “She gave me those glasses before she died.”“I didn’t mean to drop it,” I say quickly, already crouching to reach for the towel on the counter. “I just slipped. I was trying to move the plates, and my foot caught. I’m sorry. I didn’t see—”He cuts me off with a look, one sharp enough to stop the breath in my throat.“That was one of the last things she gave me,” he says again, louder this time, his tone rising with every word. “You didn’t think to be more careful? You’re always clumsy, Harper, always distracted.”My hands falter. I don't know whether to keep cleaning or back away. I c

Harper's POVI’m alone.Alone with whatever waits inside that house. Alone with whatever questions are coming. Alone with... I don't even know.As I reach the door, it opens before I can even lift my hand to knock, and I freeze in place, caught off guard. A woman stands on the other side with a warm smile stretched across her face, her expression calm and welcoming in a way that only makes my nerves prickle more.“Harper, come in,” she says brightly, stepping aside to let me pass. Her tone is cheerful, practiced, the kind that belongs to someone who is used to greeting strangers and making them feel at ease.I just stare at her for a second, trying to make sense of the situation. I have no idea who she is or why she’s the one opening the door. Nothing about this feels like what I expected. Still, I take a hesitant step forward, and she reaches down to take my bag from my shoulder with a nod of thanks.“I’ll show you to your room. You have a couple of hours to get settled in before din