Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(29)

He knew she was probably confused about where they stood. Hell, he was confused. But not anymore. He made a vow to spend as much time with Harlow Reese as possible. He’d escort her to work, then back to her car when she was done for the day or night. He’d bring her to the range and teach her how to shoot. He’d spend as much time with her outside of the shelter as his job allowed. Harlow might not want to date, but he didn’t have the same reservations.

“Have you gotten permission to put up the other cameras yet?” Black asked Meat.

“No. And it’s pissing me off. The buildings on either side of the shelter are vacant, but I haven’t been able to find out who owns them yet. And that’s suspicious in itself. The stores across the street have denied us access as well.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“They wouldn’t say. But I have a feeling it’s because of the clientele. They aren’t the kind of people who like being on camera.”

“Damn it. You told Rex?”

“Yup. He’s pissed.”

Black whistled. When Rex got angry, heads usually rolled.

“Right. When I call the others, I’ll see if they’d be willing to set up rotating watches on the shelter. At least for the short term. We can’t keep it up forever, but maybe at least until we have some sort of clue as to who’s behind all the harassment.”

“Sounds good,” Black said. And it did. He planned to watch over Harlow, but that left the residents, Zoe, and Loretta vulnerable. “Let me know if you get any more interesting videos.”

“You know I will,” Meat reassured him. “Later.”

“Bye.”

Black hung up and clicked on the video to start it from the beginning. As he watched Harlow face off against the unseen man, his blood boiled all over again.

No. Just no.

He’d told her what being a part of his world meant, but he’d neglected to inform her that it included fucking telling him when she was scared and worried about something. Hearing the punk threaten her definitely counted.

Shutting down his computer, Black pushed back his chair and grabbed his leather jacket and helmet on the way out the door. He’d ridden his Harley to the office today, and while he knew it was safer to go home and get his Mazda before going to see Harlow, he didn’t want to take the time.

He needed to let her know once and for all how things were going to be from here on out.





Chapter Nine

Harlow rubbed her eyes as she sat in her car. It was a little after three, and Zoe had probably left the shelter an hour or so earlier. Harlow had dinner duty tonight, then breakfast tomorrow.

She hadn’t slept well last night, every little noise making her sit up in bed in fear that someone had broken into her apartment.

The men had stepped up their harassment. The not-so-veiled threats the guy in the alley had spat at her had also affected her more than she wanted to admit. Now she dreaded coming to work—and she hated that. She loved being at work, but not the actual getting-inside part. The harassment both pissed her off and scared her at the same time.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to just get it over with, Harlow grabbed her purse and pushed open her door. She’d started leaving the convertible roof up when she came to work because of the time it took to raise and lower it.

Keeping her head down so as not to make eye contact and encourage any of the punks if they were hanging around, she slammed her car door, beeped the locks, and headed for the shelter.

She’d taken several steps before slamming into a hard body. She would’ve bounced back and fallen on her ass if the person hadn’t grabbed hold of her arms.

Looking up in alarm, Harlow was ready to knee in the nuts whoever had hold of her, but she froze when she looked into Lowell’s pissed-off brown eyes.

“In a hurry, Harl?”

Looking around, Harlow didn’t see any of the punks who’d been hanging out, and she sighed in relief. Then she met Lowell’s eyes and decided to be honest. “Yes. I wasn’t sure if any of those guys were around, and I just wanted to get inside as soon as possible.”

“They were around,” Lowell told her. “But when they saw me, they scattered.”

“Oh . . . that’s good,” she said lamely.

“Come on,” Lowell said, turning toward the shelter. He put his arm around her and rested his hand on her waist. Her hip brushed against his as they walked, but she didn’t try to pull away. Having him close felt good. Her nervousness disappeared like a puff of smoke with him by her side. It was as if, with Lowell there, she could do anything. Say anything.

They walked in silence down the street, past the vacant building next to the shelter, and up to the front door. Lowell held the door open for her after she unlocked it and was right on her heels as she entered. He relocked the door and followed her into the kitchen. Harlow put her purse in the cabinet and picked up her apron. She pulled it over her head and finally turned to face him.

As usual, he didn’t say anything. He simply stood there with his arms crossed, staring at her. She hated when he did that. Even though she understood it was a tactic he used to make her uncomfortable and get her to talk, she wasn’t able to withstand it.

“Hey, Lowell,” she said nervously, at a loss as to what else to say.

“You didn’t call me,” he said.