Better Left Buried (21 page)

“Measuring square footage.
The first floor seems so much bigger.”

“
Really?”

Jaxon
shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but the basement seems short.”

Harmony packed the things most important to her, including her mother’s box of photos and the pile of laundry that encompassed most of her wearable wardrobe. She piled the clothes into two garbage bags and waited on the tiny front porch for Adam. He showed up wearing a long sleeve button-down and a pair of dark jeans. His wet hair looked almost black-blue in the sunlight.

“
I’m sorry it took me so long. I wanted to shower and I stopped at the store. Here, these are for you.” He held out the bundle of daisies with a single red rose between them.

“Thank you.”
Harmony took them and reached for one of the bags.

“
I got it.”

“Are you sure?”
He looked so hopeful and she tried to connect, but she just couldn’t make herself genuinely happy to see him. Going back to him was her settling into habit, whether she liked it or not.

“I’m sure.”

She
carried the box of photos. He loaded the rest into the back of the truck in two trips while she waited.

He climbed in the driver’s seat. “
You sure you have everything?”

She nodded.
“Anything worth taking.”

He reached a
cross the seat to hold her hand. She reluctantly allowed it.

The ride to his apartment felt as much like a sentence as if she’d been sent to the Midtown Home. She
refused to tell him about the eviction and needed a place to stay that was less likely to be pulled out from under her.

He smiled, content, humming along to a Pearl Jam song
and singing when it came to the chorus. If he sensed the distance between them it didn’t show.

She
fished the keys out of her jacket pocket and was out of the truck as soon as he parked. She left the flowers on the bench seat and hurried up the sidewalk.

“Wait.” Adam jogged to catch up with her. “Please.”

Her key was already in the lock. “What am I waiting for?”

“It’s a surprise.”
He covered her eyes, pushed open the door, and steered her inside. His heartbeat pounded at her back. She held her breath, terrified of what she was walking into.

“Can I look?”

Adam pulled his hand away. “Go ahead.”

A
scant trail of rose petals lead down the hall to the bedroom.

“Adam, I don’t—”
The scene looked like a staged offer for sex.

“No, not that.
God, Harm. Come on.” He looked hurt.

She followed him down the hallway, a lump of fear swelling in her throat.
Petals, in the shape of a heart, covered the bed. In the center was a black velvet box.

She’d have rather had sex with him than open it.

“What’s the matter?”

She waited for him to get down on one knee
, barely able to breathe. “Adam, what’s going on?”

He
took her hand and she pulled it away to keep him from seeing the bandage.

“Please, it’s not what you think. Open it.”

She opened the box, relieved to see that it wasn’t a diamond inside, but a heart-shaped silver ring.
The kind that went along with a promise.
She pretended not to know its significance.

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

He took the ring from the box and slid it on her left ring finger.

“What I did was inexcusable. I
’m sorry. I know things are confusing right now. You’ve got a lot on your plate, but that ring is my promise to never,
ever
hurt you again.” He pulled her to him by her wrist, his hand directly over the tattoo, and kissed her.

She kissed him back, knowing that sooner or later she’d have to come clean.

The night was tense, full of interrupted sleep and “what if” conversations about the appointment that came faster than Harmony would have liked. She’d managed to keep the tattoo a secret, but Adam stared directly at her wrist as she entered the municipal building housing Dr. Bennett’s office.

“I feel sick.” She pulled her hand away, nearly closing
him in the door.

A police cruiser sat
parked two spaces over from Adam’s truck in the lot behind the building. It wasn’t unusual for someone to get a police escort, but Harmony feared they were there for her.

“It’s going to be all right,” Adam
said. “Just keep it together.”

He didn’t live in the same world as she did, apparently. There was no feasible happy ending. She’d considered the
alternatives most of the night and instead of sleeping, ran over scenarios from tracking down her mother to running away. Her mother had managed to outrun consequences most of her life. There was something simplistically brilliant in that.

“
Where do I tell them my mother is?” She stopped in front of the door to Bennett’s suite and waited for Adam to open it.

“Maybe it’s time you start telling the truth.” She knew he didn’t just mean to them.
“Six months until you’re eighteen, Harmony. If you’re honest, maybe they’ll work
with
instead of
against
you.”

“I think it’s already too late.”

The first thing she heard when she walked through the door was Sylvie, her case worker’s, singsong voice coming from behind a partly closed door. Harmony nodded to the receptionist, who waved for her to have a seat. There was no need for her to check in. Everyone was expecting her. You could have heard a pin drop.

“Harmony, you made it.” Sylvie’s forced smile
gave her away as she walked out of Bennett’s office. She’d dressed in a navy blue suit for the occasion, her dark hair neatly tied back, emphasizing her cartoon princess eyes. At twenty-nine-years-old, she could easily pass for a high school student and she had a reassuring way about her. The worst of her profession hadn’t yet caught up with her. Bitterness was an eventuality. “Why don’t you come with me?”

Adam nodded, clearly not seeing
the uniformed officer behind Bennett, now standing in the doorway.

Harmony’s
heart pounded as fight or flight mode kicked in.

There was no way of her getting out of there without a convincing ruse. She
moaned, clenching her stomach with both arms.

“
Ohhhhh
.”

“Harm, what’s the matter?” Adam grabbed her arm.

She squeezed her legs together and doubled over. “Cramps,” she said, doing her best imitation of pain. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

There was a hint of suspicion in Sylvie’s expression as she
offered to help. “Here, I’ll take you. We’ll be right back,” she said to Bennett as she ushered Harmony out the door.

Harmony shuffled along, struggling not to break character and run. She hadn’t planned on an escort, but she’d make do.

The county building had a small two-stall bathroom on each floor and, of course, Sylvie insisted on coming in with her.

Harmony knew the layout from having been in there before and locked herself in the far stall.
The toilet had recently been cleaned and the seat was up. She dropped it with a
bang
.

“You okay?” Sylvie asked.

“
Mmmhhmmm.
”

“You want to talk before we go back in there?”

Harmony unzipped her purse, as if searching for feminine hygiene products. “I didn’t exactly come in here to talk.”

“Your mother called me last night
, Harmony. Can you guess what about?” Harmony groaned to keep from answering. “She told me your boyfriend hit you. Is that true?”

“What do you think? She slings accusations and then doesn
’t show up to address them face-to-face. Says something, doesn’t it? She’s probably drugged out of her mind in some flop house somewhere.”

“She’s not. She stayed at the shelter and is planning to go for outpatient treatment today.
She left last night because she didn’t want to come here. She’s struggling, and whatever Adam did upset her enough for her to think you’re better off away from him. She doesn’t think she can stay sober and take care of you.”

“I take care of
myself
.”

“It’s only six months,” Sylvie said as if passing a sentence. “After that, you’re on your own.”

She’d been on her own for as long as she could remember. This time was no different. She made more noise with her bag and did her best to sound distressed. “Crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have anything with me.” She alluded to being unprepared for her period. Some things didn’t need to be said between women. “Do you have anything?” The machines on the wall were perpetually empty, but she heard Sylvie check just in case.

“I didn’t bring my purse.”

Harmony had noticed, which is why she was asking. “Please. It’s really bad. I can’t walk around like this.”

Sylvie huffed
, clearly fighting the battle between trusting her instincts and helping someone who claimed to be in need.

“Please?” Harmony sniffled
as though she were about to cry.

“
Fine. I’ll be right back, but this better not be a trick.”

Harmony flew out of the stall and locked the door
the second Sylvie closed it.

Harmony turned over the metal trash can and reached for the lever of the frosted glass window that had been her planned escape hatch all along. The narrow space offered little room for egress, which was probably why Sylvie left her alone in the first place.

She
had underestimated her determination.

Rust colored c
orrosion cemented the handle in place. It took Harmony hanging her body weight from it to force it open. The glass panels stuck in the dirty track and only opened a little better than three-quarters of the way. Harmony tossed her bag into the side alley and hoisted herself up with her sleeves covering her hands for protection.

Bennett’s office was
on a ground floor that was more like a basement, the building cut into what was now a concrete hill.

“Harmony.”
Sylvie’s voice came through the locked door. “Harmony, open up.” Harmony dangled half-in and half-out of the window, her hips and the buttons on her jeans making it hard to get the rest of the way through. “Harmony, come on. Open this door.”

It was only a matter of time until she sounded the alarms.

“I’ll be right there.” She turned her head to project her voice at the door, hoping Sylvie wouldn’t notice the distance.

“Unlock this door
,” Sylvie whispered. “This isn’t funny.”

She had that right. It wasn’t the least bit amusing.

Harmony pulled herself off-center so she was more out of the window than in and braced for the slight drop. She hit the concrete palms first and a sharp pain shot up both her wrists.

“Shit.”
Harmony shook out her hands and grabbed her bag.

Sylvie was sti
ll knocking when Harmony started to run.

There was no going back.

She was officially a fugitive.

The bus line only a few blocks away from Bennett’s office was the cheapest option to get out of town, but also the most likely to get her caught. The bus was too indirect and certainly Sylvie, the cop, or both would be waiting at the next stop to drag her off to Midtown.

Cooperating came off the table the minute she had decided to flee.

Her feet pounded
the pavement, her flat-bottomed canvas sneakers doing nothing to absorb the impact. She was short of breath and nervous about running through the alley where she’d been attacked.

She managed three city blocks before the stitch in her side slowed her down. She cast intermittent glances over her shoulder and found no o
ne, not even Adam, chasing her. It was only a matter of time. She walked quickly, pinching the site of the burning pain until it subsided and she was able to jog again. There was a cab stand in front of a hotel less than a quarter-mile away. She pulled the twenty she had taken from Adam while he was sleeping out of her pocket. Stealing his last twenty bucks, given the circumstances, was the least of the things he had to forgive her for. She picked up speed, her bag pounding against her back despite her trying to steady it. The air burned as it moved into her lungs and she all but collapsed by the time she reached the row of waiting taxis.

She opened the back door of
the one closest to her and got in.