Chapter 90 HARPER
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to call the police, not when I knew what would follow. They would ask too many questions, dig too deep, notice how rarely my parents were around, how often I spent time alone. It would turn into something bigger than I could control, something that ended with me being moved into foster care. That alone was enough to keep my mouth shut.
I couldn’t tell anyone either. Not my mom. Not my dad. Not Tyler. Especially not Tyler. If Sam ever found out Tyler knew, or worse, tried to interfere, I didn’t doubt for a second that he would go after him next. Tyler was still injured, still wearing that sling, still trying to recover. After what Sam had already done to Mark, the idea of dragging anyone else into this made my stomach twist painfully. I couldn’t protect them if Sam decided they were a problem, and that fear alone kept my mouth shut.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my shoulders slumped, my body aching in ways that felt unfamiliar and wrong. Every movement reminded me of last night. The belt marks burned beneath my clothes, tender and angry, as if my skin hadn’t accepted what had happened yet. My eyes felt heavy and swollen, sore from crying and from barely sleeping at all. Every time I closed them, memories rushed back in unwanted flashes, each one tightening my chest a little more.
If the bruises had been limited to my body, I might have managed. I could’ve layered clothes, kept my head down, maybe even gone to the hospital to see Mark. I could’ve pretended I was fine for long enough to get through it. But the damage wasn’t hidden. A dark bruise had settled beneath my eye, impossible to ignore. No amount of concealer could fully cover it. My cheek throbbed, swollen enough that smiling felt impossible. My neck was red and irritated, the skin tender to the point where swallowing felt like work. I avoided the mirror entirely. I didn’t need confirmation of what I already knew.
A loud knock against my bedroom door ripped me out of my thoughts.
“Hey,” Sam yelled from the hallway. “You coming out to eat or what? I’m not trying to have you dying on my hands.”
My heart lurched violently. I curled into myself, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I held my breath, hoping silence would buy me time, hoping he’d lose interest and walk away.
The knock came again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the room.
“Don’t make me come in there to get you,” he snapped. “You’ve got five minutes to get your ass to the kitchen. Got it?”
A sob climbed up my throat, and I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to keep it from escaping. Shame washed over me, heavy and suffocating. I hated that this was where I’d ended up. I hated that I’d convinced myself he had changed. I hated that I hadn’t trusted my instincts sooner. I should never have let him stay. I should never have spoken back. I should never have believed I could handle him.
Maybe if I didn’t have anyone else to worry about, I would’ve found a way to fight back properly. Maybe I would’ve taken the risk. But the thought of Sam turning his anger toward Tyler made my chest tighten painfully. My breathing turned shallow, the air suddenly hard to draw in.
Nausea rolled through me as images of Mark surfaced. His face, bruised and swollen. The blood that had coated the ground. The fear that had gripped me at the pictures of his unconscious frame. For a terrifying moment, I’d thought he was dead. Megan’s message had been the only thing that pulled me back, asking where I was, telling me Mark had been rushed to the hospital. I’d replied with something vague, something small, too afraid to explain why I couldn’t come.
They were better off without me. That was the lie I kept repeating.
I drew in a shaky breath and tried to stand, but my body protested immediately. Pain flared in too many places at once. My legs trembled beneath me, threatening to give out. For a moment, I considered giving up and sinking back onto the bed, letting myself disappear into the misery.
Then my phone buzzed.
I froze before reaching for it, my fingers stiff as I picked it up.
Tyler: Hey, you good?
My vision blurred as I stared at the screen. My chest tightened, my thoughts stalling completely. I didn’t know how to answer without opening a door I wasn’t ready to face.
Another message appeared.
Tyler: Just coming from seeing Mark at the hospital. He’s awake and doing fine.
I swallowed hard.
Tyler: Megan said you haven’t come by. She mentioned you had some family stuff to deal with, but I still find it strange. Just checking to make sure you’re okay.
Three more messages followed almost instantly.
Tyler: Or maybe you’re just busy. You can send an emoji or something so I know you’re fine.
Tyler: I’ll explain it to Megan and the others. They’re pretty upset about you not being there.
Tyler: You coming to the session? Coach put punishment training on hold until school resumes because of Mark.
Tyler: I could wait at the hospital if you are.
Tears spilled over before I could stop them. I hovered over the screen, selecting a thumbs-up emoji, my finger shaking as I prepared to send it.
Sam’s voice rose from down the hall.
“That bitch better not test my patience,” he snarled.
His footsteps grew closer with each word. Panic surged. I cleared the screen quickly, wiping Tyler’s messages from my phone before shoving it under my pillow. I yanked my bedroom door open just as Sam lifted his hand to knock again.
His expression hardened the moment he saw me. Without warning, his hand shot out and closed around my neck.
“You really wanted me to come get you again, huh?” he hissed.
I shook my head frantically, my body trembling despite my efforts to stay still. I didn’t speak this time. I’d learned that words only made it worse.
He released me with a shove that sent me stumbling backward. My arms flailed as I fought to stay upright, barely catching myself before I hit the floor.
“Believe it or not, I’ve actually changed,” he said, standing in the doorway. “But there’s only so much anger management I can handle. So unless you want more bruises, stop acting like a dead robot and get yourself to the kitchen.”
I took a hesitant step forward, flinching when he shifted. He paused, watching me, then burst out laughing.
“I thought you had more guts than this, couz,” he said. “One night. That’s all it took to remind you where you belong.”
I kept my face blank and followed him down the hall, my steps careful, while he walked ahead, amused, as if none of this mattered.
In the kitchen, he grabbed a mug of coffee from the counter and pointed toward a plate with two slices of bread and jam.
“You’re skinny already,” he said dismissively. “I figured you don’t eat much anyway.”
My stomach twisted.
“Slice the avocado in that bowl and bring it to the living room,” he added. “I’ve got a match to watch.”
I moved automatically, reaching for the knife beside the bowl. The metal felt cold in my hand.
A thought slipped into my mind.
‘Do it.’
‘Do it, Harper.’
‘This might be your only chance.’
The voices pressed in, loud and relentless, drowning out everything else. My pulse thundered as I stared down at the blade, my grip tightening without me realizing it. Sam turned his back, already heading toward the doorway.
“Get on with it,” he said, then reached back suddenly and squeezed my butt.
Something inside me snapped.
I didn’t think. I moved.
I lunged forward, aiming for his chest, throwing every ounce of strength I had into the strike. He turned at the last second, and the blade sank into his arm instead.
A guttural groan tore from him.
I’d missed.
Fear hit me all at once. If I didn’t get out now, I knew he’d kill me.
I made a run for it.
I barely crossed the threshold before his hand closed around my ankle, yanking me down hard. The air rushed from my lungs as I hit the floor.
Before I could scream, before I could crawl away, he was already on me.