After Moonrise: Possessed\Haunted (18 page)

“There’s one way to find out what happened to her,” he
said.

She sighed. “I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Though Harper knew Levi expected to return to her
apartment that very second, shake Lana awake and treat her to an intense
interrogation, and though Harper needed to hug her friend and cry with her and
promise to make everything better, her emotions were still raw, the fear of
sinking into another black hole a living entity inside her. She wanted to stay
here, inside Levi’s apartment, safe from the sorrow that awaited her for just a
little longer.

He just smelled so good, heat radiating off him in continuous
waves, wrapping around her. One of his hands caressed her back, and the other
stroked the side of her leg. Both soothed her, despite the fact that she usually
hated being touched, and all too soon her eyelids grew heavy. She yawned.

“Can we postpone?” she asked. “Just until morning. Please.”

“Begging doesn’t work with me. This needs to be done,
Harper.”

“I know, but I’m not at my best and I want to be at my best
when we do this.
Pleeease
.”

A pause. A sigh. “Begging didn’t used to
work,” he grumbled, and he stayed put.

A soft chuckle escaped her. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’m
irresistible.”

He said something to her, but he sounded far away. She tried to
respond, she really did, but…

…floated away…into another darkness, though this one offered
comfort rather than terror. Maybe because she could still smell the musk of
Levi’s scent, could still feel the warm pulse of him, not just at her side but
all over.

When the weight finally lifted from her eyelids, she blinked
awake. A frown formed as she cataloged her surroundings. She was inside a
strange apartment, stretched out on an unfamiliar couch. The overhead light was
on, sunlight streaming through a dark curtain.

Morning had arrived, she realized. The last thing she
remembered was talking to Levi, and agreeing to speak with Lana.

She sat up—or rather, tried to. Strong arms were banded around
her, holding her in an intractable grip. Panic sparked to life while she
attempted to orient herself. Warm breath trekked over her neck. A man’s breath.
A man who was aroused.

Had she blacked out, left Levi and gone home with a stranger?
Bile burned a path up her throat as she struggled against that vise grip.

A growl rumbled from the man. “I’ve got you,” a raspy voice
said. “Be still.”

A raspy voice she recognized.

Levi. Frowning, she glanced down, spied the bronze of his skin
and the light dusting of dark hair. Drank in the strength of his fingers, and
the thin scars that crisscrossed his wrists.

As quickly as it had formed, the panic left. Relief danced
through her. But…this made no sense. They weren’t inside his apartment. The
furnishings were different. Before, there’d been no artwork on the walls. Now
portraits of animals playing poker…and golf…and baseball filled the walls. Walls
that had gone from white to pale blue in a single night.

“Levi,” she said.

“Harper,” he replied, his tone letting her know her name was a
curse.

“You awake?”

“I’m talking, aren’t I?”

Growling, more like. “Not a morning person, huh?”

“Not a morning, afternoon or evening person. You’ll just have
to deal with it because, this time, you’re to blame. You stood up three times,
and once even made it to the hallway outside.”

Sleepwalking. The number-one reason she’d become a fan of
insomnia. “I don’t remember any of that,” she admitted.

His arms tightened around her for several seconds before he sat
up, dragging her with him. Sadly, he severed contact and she found herself
mourning the loss of his strength and his heat. How unlike her. But then, with
his confession about his own blackouts, his determination to help her, Levi had
busted through her instinctive safeguards, making her as comfortable with him as
she was with herself.

“So where are we?” she asked, smoothing her hair from her
cheeks.

“Where else? My apartment.”

She blinked over at him, confused. “And you decided to do a
little redecorating while I was sleeping?”

“What are you talking about?” Frowning, he stood and padded to
the kitchen, where he stumbled around as he gathered supplies for coffee. His
shirt and pants were wrinkled. Sometime during the night he’d removed his shoes
and socks and now his feet were bare. “You fell asleep, I helped you get
comfortable, got comfortable myself and was out soon afterward.”

“But your walls.” She waved her hand over the portraits.

He glanced over his shoulder to examine them. “Yeah. What about
them?”

She looked at his face, intending to gauge his reaction to her
next words, but she got caught on another thought trail. The swelling had gone
down in his eye and cheek, and his skin was only slightly discolored. Last
night, he’d been black-and-blue. The split in his lip had already scabbed
over.

“You heal quickly,” she announced.

“Harper,” he said on a sigh. “The walls.”

Right. The walls. “Yesterday they were naked.”

He froze, his hand raised to pour in the grounds. Slowly he set
everything down and turned toward her. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I always study a person’s walls.”

His brows knitted. Suddenly he looked as confused as she felt.
“Why?”

“Art. Why else? You can learn so much about a person that
way.”

He shook his head, as if dislodging a pesky thought. “And mine
were…naked, you said.”

“Yes. And a different color!”

His gaze swept over each of the portraits a second time,
lingering, taking in every detail. “I recognize every piece, recognize the
color. That’s how they’ve looked since I moved in.”

Her stomach bottomed out, the implications almost too much to
take in. “One of us is mistaken.”

“Or both of us are right and something weird is going on.” He
rubbed the back of his neck. “Forget the coffee. Let’s shower, and go chat with
Lana.”

“Shower…together?”

“Well, not now,” he grumbled. “You can use the guest bathroom
if you want.”

“I do. Thank you.” Though she was tempted…

As he stalked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, Harper
lumbered to her feet.

She found the guest bathroom easily enough, only to discover a
still-packaged toothbrush, a fresh tube of toothpaste and every feminine product
known to man. Or woman.

As hard and gruff a guy as Levi was, he sure was prepared for
female guests—something Harper wasn’t sure she appreciated. Was he a player?

It wasn’t like Harper had any type of claim on him, especially
considering she’d just denied him, but still. He’d held her all night long.
Before that, he’d kissed her. So…
she had a claim on
him.

Yeah, she’d first thought to keep things purely professional
between them. But guess what? She’d just changed her mind. For sure this time.
If he’d wanted to enjoy his bachelorhood, he should not have invited her to
happy shower time. He should have kept his lips and hands to himself. He should
have refused to snuggle her and keep her safe.

When she stepped out of the stall, dripping wet and wishing
she’d looked for a towel before making use of the water, she found a small pile
of clothes resting beside the sink. A T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants—neither
of which belonged to her.

That Levi,
she thought, unsure
whether she wanted to grin or slap him. She’d locked the door, but he’d come in,
anyway. At least the clothes belonged to him rather than another woman.

By the time she finished rolling the soft material at her
wrists, waist and ankles, he was in the living room, waiting for her. He eyed
her up and down, nodded his approval despite the fact that her hair was wet and
the bulk of the clothing made her look as if she’d gained twenty pounds since
they’d last seen each other.

While her heart drummed erratically, she gave him the same
perusal. He wore another black shirt and pair of black slacks, but he somehow
looked more delicious than ever. So unfair.

As he ushered her into the hallway, she said, “So those tampons
in your guest bathroom…”

“They aren’t mine, that’s for sure,” he said, locking his
door.

“I know that. Moron! So whose are they?”

“You’re not gonna like the answer.”

“Tell me, anyway.”

“They belonged to my ex, and I failed to throw them out.” He
escorted Harper down the hall and up the stairs to her apartment.

“Why would that make me angry?”

“You might think I kept them because I still had feelings for
her. I don’t. You might think I meant to let your roommate use them, since I’d
planned to date her. You might think I’m obsessive about keeping what’s mine…and
you’d be right, and the knowledge might scare you away.”

She locked on to one thought. He’d first wanted Lana. “Why did
you kiss me if you wanted to date my roommate?” she gritted out. Oh, he’d
mentioned his desire to hook up with Lana before, but they’d just met and she’d
just irritated him and that could have been a taunt. This wasn’t.

“See?”

“Answer me.”

“I didn’t say I
still
wanted to
date her.”

“But she was your first choice.”

“A choice made in a moment of insanity.”

“So?”

“So, you’re going to throw it in my face the whole time we’re
together, aren’t you?”

The whole time we’re together
. That
was relationship talk, and it was the only thing that mollified her. “Yeah,” she
said. “I am.”

“I probably shouldn’t admit this, either, but that’s kinda
hot.”

And he was hooked on her, she remembered him saying. Well,
okay, then. She wouldn’t punish him
too
badly.

“Lana,” she called when she was inside their place, hoping to
give her friend time to wake up, dress or whatever she needed. “Lana!”

Silence.

“Wait here,” she said, and went to Lana’s bedroom. Inside, she
flipped on the light. The bed was empty, the covers askew. The closet was empty,
as well, no clothes remaining.

As she flattened her hands over her stomach to ward off an
oncoming ache, she felt rather than saw Levi come up behind her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“She’s gone.” And she’d left in a hurry. Some of her things
were on the floor—a shoe, a pair of panties and a brush—as if they had fallen
out of a hastily thrown-together bag.

Levi brushed past her and searched every inch of the room. She
stood there, numb, as she watched. Why had Lana left her? And she
had
left her.

“What are you doing?” she asked when Levi crouched on the floor
and traced his fingertips over the carpet fibers.

“Checking for foul play.” He went through the entire space from
top to bottom before ushering her to the dresser and motioning to a wrinkled
piece of paper. “Read it, but don’t touch it, okay? I want it dusted for
fingerprints. And tell me if it’s her writing and if she sounds normal.”

Harper’s eyes watered as she glanced down. She had to wipe them
three times before she could make out the words.

Please do not be mad, Harper. Your painting…I do not know why you
paint me. I was not there, I swear to you. Nothing was done to me, and I witness
nothing done to anyone else. I do not know what it means, but this has scared
me. I will take off for a while. I must figure some things out. Don’t worry
about me, okay? I will be fine. And so will you. Your detective will take care
of you now. I am sorry I couldn’t. I love you more than anything on this earth
and nothing will ever change that.

P.S. I know I told you the OKC branch of A.M. did not wish to
take your case, but that was a lie. I do not want them involved in this, no
matter what. Promise me. Instead, I want you to go to Tulsa and visit the A.M.
offices there. I called, and they expect you. They will take you seriously. Go
to them, please, you and your detective both. What if you’ve seen into
future?

Harper could see the tearstains on the paper, knew Lana had
cried while she’d written this. “She definitely wrote this, and not under
duress, but I don’t understand it,” she whispered.

What if Lana was right and she had seen into the future? What
if Lana would one day suffer atrocities at some madman’s hands? What if—

“I can see where your thoughts derailed, and you need to get
back on the right track.
What if
can be two of the
cruelest words ever created if you let them.”

True. They lit a fire under fear while proving nothing,
stopping nothing. And they could be wrong, her worry pointless. “If the painting
is a glimpse of the future, why am I missing so much of my life in the here and
now? Why am I having blackouts, but Lana’s not?”

“Maybe she is. Maybe she lied. Why would she not want you to
visit After Moonrise here in Oklahoma City?”

Lied…lied… Lana could have lied to her. Always they’d shared
everything. Money, clothes, cars, food, sorrows and pains, joys and rewards.
Brutal Honesty had been their motto.

Do I look fat in these jeans?

As a rhino.

What if my date tries to kiss
me?

He won’t. Not with that garlic
breath.

“Maybe she didn’t want her coworkers involved in my potential
crazy,” Harper said. Maybe. So many maybes.

Levi’s hands settled on her shoulders. “I’ll ask one of my
friends to track her, watch her, guard her. She’ll be kept safe, I promise
you.”

He hadn’t said “and question her” but she heard the words in
his tone. No matter how much Harper hated the way things were playing out, an
interrogation needed to happen now more than ever. “Thank you. She’s my best
friend. I love her no matter what, same way she loves me, and I want her
safe.”

“She will be.”

Emotion clogged Harper’s throat, and her chin trembled.