Page 18 of Forbidden Dreams
“I’m a process server,” he finally says, and my body relaxes, if only for a bit. “Paid me double to make sure you were served when you got home.” He looks at her as if he feels sorry before turning and walking back to his car.
I watch him the whole time, getting into his car, starting it up, and then pulling into the driveway before backing out and going down the street. I look over my shoulder, seeing Harmony open the papers and read whatever the fuck is on them. “What is that?” I ask, and she just shakes her head.
“Nothing,” she lies.
“Nothing?” I repeat to her. “It has to be something if he served you in the middle of the fucking night,” I retort, wondering how pissed she would be if I snatched the papers out of her hands. I’m contemplating doing just that when the back door opens, and Wyatt sticks his head out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“We’re home?” he asks sleepily.
“Yeah, baby,” Harmony murmurs quietly, folding the papers and placing them in the back pocket of her jeans. “Get your bags,” she tells him, and he grabs his bag getting out of the car.
“Hi, Mr. Thatcher,” he says before walking to the steps. I wait until he’s far enough before I turn my eyes back on his mother.
“Harmony,” I say her name as if I’ve said her name my whole life.
“Good night, Brady,” she says, turning on her heel and walking up the steps to join her son before slamming the door, making it crystal clear she’s done with whatever conversation we were going to have. I look up at the sky, seeing the twinkle of stars, and count to ten to calm myself down. If Wyatt wasn’t in there, I would have probably stormed the door to get to her. Instead, I wait and watch for the lights to turn on, but nothing happens. The house stays dark, and I have no choice but to head back to my own house, my head spinning over what just happened. Only one person I know would do this to her, and my hands fist. The fucking nerve of him to have her served in the middle of the fucking night. I shake my head, the anger creeping up so fast it’s a wonder I don’t explode as I storm up the front steps of my house.
Turning the key in the lock and slamming my own door, I go straight up to my bedroom and kick off my boots. I don’t know how I fall asleep. I get up, going to get coffee, and realize her car isn’t there, making me freak out a little, but I push it away. “It’s not your problem,” I tell myself, “leave it be.”
I get dressed and head out to my father’s for Sunday lunch, something we’ve been doing since he got sick. Autumn shows up with Charlie, who comes out to the backyard to sit with me while Autumn spends alone time with Dad. “You hired Harmony?” he asks, bringing his beer to his lips and taking a pull.
“Yup,” I confirm, leaning back in the chair, my own beer in my hand, “I did.”
“Is that a wise decision?” He puts the beer on the table between the two chairs.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snap, and I can see him trying to hide a smirk.
“I’m just asking if it’s a wise decision, considering the shit you had to endure for?—”
I cut him off by raising my hand. “I would never put my sister in the way of anything.”
He chuckles. “You think I give a shit about that?” he asks me. “I dare them to try to fuck with her again.”
“So what’s the problem?” I ask, and I take a pull of my beer before I look over at him and find him studying me. “She needed a job; we needed a server.”
“Just like that?” He tilts his head to the side. “Autumn has been on your ass for the past five months to hire another server, and you’ve brushed her off.”
“I realized she was right,” I admit. “So what does it matter?”
“That all you are going to say?” He looks at me, and I know he’s not going to drop this, so I might as well just tell him. I look into the window seeing the back of Autumn’s head, laughing at something my father is saying.
“I don’t want you to make a big deal about this,” I say, “and I need you to keep this shit to yourself.”
“Don’t like keeping things from your sister.” He looks back at the house, his eyes going soft when he sees her.
“I might have to fill her in sooner rather than later, but for right now, she doesn’t have to know,” I mumble, and he turns back. “Harmony moved into the house next door to me.” I finally tell someone; his eyebrows pinching together.
“What house?” He knows exactly what house I’m talking about. “That house is unsafe to even walk next to.”
I take a pull of my beer. “Yeah,” I agree with him, “she moved in and Winston tracked her down. Showed up blitzed out of his mind.” I look over. “Driving to her and causing a fucking scene with her son in the house.”
“Jesus,” he hisses, “what the fuck is wrong with him?”
“Not enough time in the day to tackle that question.” I put the beer bottle on my knee. “Also don’t give a fuck about him. Got into his face after the first time. Didn’t think he would come back, but he’s a Cartwright and a piece of shit, so he came back again and I got in his face, again. It’s been quiet, or at least it has been.”
“Brady,” he says, his voice warning me.
“Last night she got home and was served with some papers,” I tell him, my hand gripping the beer bottle so tight, I’m surprised it doesn’t break in my fist. “Process server got paid double to serve her on a fucking weekend and after midnight.”