Under Your Influence Page 2

  “Go away,” he said and went into the bathroom.

  Like that was going to stop me.

  I went in after him.

  Two men were at the sink.

  They looked at me from the refection in the mirror.

  “What?” I called out. “You think I haven’t seen a penis before?”

  “Harper, you need to leave,” Brian said. “Right now.”

  “Not until you tell me how long you’ve been fucking her,” I said.

  The two men at the sink skipped drying their hands and hurried out of the bathroom.

  They understood what was going down.

  “Harper… please…”

  “All that begging? For what? You wanted me to feel bad for you? Or was that you trying to convince yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong?”

  “You don’t get it,” he said. “Just go. We’re broken up.”

  “You were fucking her while you were with me. Just say it.”

  “Harper…”

  “Say the words. Now.”

  “I was fucking her while I was with you,” Brian said. He swallowed hard. “I met her at work. It wasn’t like that. At first. We were friends.”

  “Some slut at work. Of course.”

  “She doesn’t know about you. About us. I never… I never told her.”

  I laughed. If I didn’t I was going to hurt him. For real.

  “So you let her think you were single?”

  “Sort of. She knew I had a… a thing… but I told her we broke up.”

  “So you told her we broke up. And she consoled your broken heart?”

  “Harper…”

  “Letting her suck on your little dick to feel better, all the while I was home thinking you were working late.”

  My bottom lip quivered.

  The anger was giving way to hurt.

  I didn’t like that.

  I turned and ran to the bathroom door.

  I ripped it open and walked out and almost walked into a woman who was much taller than me. She was blonde. Bright blue eyes. A perfect figure. A smile that could chase away a tornado. Her red dress hugged her body in a way that made me want to eat ice cream and cry because I could never look that way in a dress.

  Behind me Brian came out of the bathroom.

  “There you are,” the beautiful woman said to him.

  “Hey, my love,” he said. “Sorry. Just had to wash my hands.”

  “Yeah, you’re fucking filthy,” I said.

  “And who are you?” the beautiful woman asked.

  “Someone who is lost,” I said.

  She cocked her head to the side.

  Brian reached for her left hand and I saw the bright glittering of a diamond ring on her finger.

  And whatever was left of my heart was now destroyed.

  “He can’t get away with this,” Joanie said. “Go burn his house down.”

  “Will you stop?” Cara asked. “She’s hurt. She’s not burning anything down.”

  “At the very least, break something. Make him feel pain. And if he has the balls to call the cops when you do something…”

  “You two should go home,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Cara said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I saw what I needed to see. He said what he said. She had no idea who I was. I can’t be mad at her.”

  “You’re going to regret it if you don’t do something,” Joanie said. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  I hugged them both and got in my car and started to drive.

  The calm version of Harper drove silently. She was going to go home. And cry. And drink a lot of wine. And cry some more. She was going to face Brian in person at some point again and deal with this.

  I sat at a stop sign for a few seconds.

  I crept forward and a car came flying down the street and went right through their stop sign. I had to hit my brakes and I screamed. When I screamed, I burst into tears.

  “Motherfucker!” I screamed as loud as I could.

  I cut the wheel to the right and slammed on the gas pedal.

  I drove fast. Tears in my eyes. Cursing.

  I drove to what used to be another version of home for myself.

  Joanie had the right idea.

  I wanted to burn the place down. But the brownstone was connected to other houses. That wouldn’t be fair.

  But a few broken windows wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  It wouldn’t heal my heart, but it might break his a little.

  I wasn’t the one to be the crazy ex either.

  But he was cheating. And not just cheating… but really cheating. He lied about me. About himself. He had fallen in love with someone else and that someone else loved him. That woman looked right at me like I was see through.

  I wanted Brian to feel anger. And hurt.

  I grabbed a big enough rock from one of the square landscaped areas around the trees. The front door had fancy custom pieces of glass. That was the target.

  “Fuck you, Brian,” I whispered as I wound up.

  My heart pounded hard.

  “Hey! You! Drop that now!”

  I let out a yell and turned, arm in the air.

  The last thing I expected to see was a police officer running toward me.

  4

  (Tyler)

  “There’s one of two things that can happen right now,” I said as I approached the woman.

  She was in a black hoodie and jeans. The hoodie was pulled up just a little above her waist. Her jeans hugged a curvy set of hips that were made to be frisked. My eyes made sure that object in her hand wasn’t a gun or a knife. It was a rock. Still a weapon, but something I could handle on my own with my own two hands. Kind of like the woman herself. Her hair came down past her shoulders, a dark brown color that matched her eyes. They looked at me as surprised as I was to see her in such a position.

  “I don’t plan on doing anything crazy here,” I said. “Neither should you. Now, you either throw that rock and end up in the back of my squad car for a ride… or you can put that rock down and tell me what’s going on.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said.

  “Make me understand then.”

  “No,” she said.

  Just like that, her hand opened and the rock fell to the ground.

  I stepped toward her and swung my foot, kicking the rock away to the curb.

  I eyed the fancy brownstone she had been taking aim at.

  My mind could probably predict the story at hand.

  Brokenhearted on Valentine’s Day. Which it technically was since we were well past midnight now.

  “I just want to go home,” she said.

  “Do you have a way to get there?” I asked.

  “Yes. I drove here. I lived here. Okay? This was my house. It was my…”

  She caught her voice in her throat and shook her head.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “No!” she yelled. “Don’t try that tough cop shit with me, okay? Go swing your dick somewhere else.”

  I laughed. “No dick swinging here, sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart? Really? Is that what you call every woman you meet?”

  “Just the ones that look like you,” I said. I folded my arms and grinned.

  “Tough guy,” she said. “Too bad you can’t arrest him” - she nodded toward the brownstone - “for the crime he committed.”

  “Maybe we could come up with something together,” I said. “Tell me what you’re doing here. If you don’t live here and you’re snooping around, that’s not good. And I caught you with a rock in your hand. Something tells me if I was a second or two later, you would have put that rock through a window. Or two.”

  “Or three,” she said. “So aren’t you just the hero of the night.”

  “I’d feel better if I knew you were going home safe and sound. And maybe smiled.”

  “Fuck you,” she said with a wicked anger that I didn’t actually mind.

 
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s see some ID.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Identification, please,” I said. “And then you’re going to show me where your car is. So I can see you get into the vehicle and leave. I’ve got nothing but time here. Or I can just take you in for what I have right now.”

  “A rock?”

  “A weapon. And you admitted you were going to damage this property.”

  “I lived here!” she yelled.

  “Not anymore.”

  She stepped toward me and I put my hand out. My other hand reached toward my belt but I fought off the natural instinct to protect myself. She wasn’t going to hurt me, at least not physically. She was hurting emotionally.

  “My ID is in my car,” she said.

  “Let’s go for a walk then. What’s your name?”

  “What’s yours?” she asked.

  “Tyler,” I said. I offered my hand for her to shake.

  “Officer Tyler,” she said. “I’m Citizen Harper.”

  “Harper,” I said. “I like that name. Let’s get out of this place so you can clear your head a little.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Lead the way,” I said and pointed.

  Harper turned, throwing her hair behind her.

  I stopped believing in love at first sight a long time ago.

  No way I was falling for that shit again…

  I let her take the lead and kept a small distance. My eyes kept a close look at her hands to make sure nothing crazy happened. At the same time, my devil refused to stop looking at her ass in those jeans. Or the tick tock rhythm of her hips. I already made a metal note that whoever broke her heart was a complete and total asshole.

  My mind fought itself, constantly reminding myself that I had a job to do.

  On duty and off duty were two different things. And normally, this kind of thing didn’t happen. I kept to the job and nothing else. I had dealt with beautiful women before. Drunk women. Women offering favors in exchange for me to let them go. I had even dealt with topless women and naked women.

  Never did it get to me like Harper did.

  Something about her standing there with the rock in her hand. The look in her eyes. Her hair and her eyes. The shape of her body. The way she furrowed her eyebrows and snapped at me.

  She was vicious and pretty and right up my alley.

  “This your car?” I asked her.

  “I’m opening the door, aren’t I?” she asked.

  I showed my hands. “You’re feisty, huh?”

  “Leave me alone, Officer Tyler,” she said. “You have no idea.”

  “I’m here to talk if you need.”

  “For what? He did nothing wrong. Legally.”

  “I get it. I’ve been there. Maybe I should have turned a blind eye and let you throw that rock.”

  “I can go back if you’d like,” she said with a quick smile.

  It faded fast but not before I saw a dimple on her cheek.

  Fuck, why was that sexy to me?

  “I can’t let you do that,” I said.

  “Great. Another man lets me down for Valentine’s Day. I’m just not meant for love.”

  “I can at least make it up to you,” I said.

  “How so, Officer Tyler?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

  “McMilley’s down on the corner,” I said. “When I’m off duty and need a night to throw a few back to chase things away, that’s where I go. Sit. Drink. Let it all go. At least for one night.”

  “Oh really?” she asked. “That’s your offer?”

  “Show me this car starts and show me your ID,” I said.

  Harper sighed and sat down in the driver’s seat. She started the car and reached across the seat for a small bag. She dug through a mess of gum wrappers, receipts, pens, some crumpled up one-dollar bills, and even a green and orange tampon.

  By the time Harper showed me her ID, she was flustered and red faced.

  She wasn’t lying about who she was.

  “Okay,” I said. I handed her the ID back. “Go home. I’ll be patrolling this area all night now. If I see you again, you will be arrested.”

  “What about McMilley’s?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You said if you see me again you’ll arrest me.”

  I gritted my teeth. She was playfully flirting. I was going against everything I believed in. But she was so damn pretty. And heartbroken.

  “I meant tonight,” I said. “I don’t want to see you tonight.”

  “And tomorrow night?”

  “I know where I’ll be,” I said. “Drive safe, Harper. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  I shut the door for her and backed up.

  She pulled away and I waited until she was out of sight to move.

  When I did, I slapped my hands to my face.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Tyler?”

  5

  (Harper)

  They were official.

  No. It was more than that.

  They were officially engaged.

  My mind refused to grasp the idea of it. That Brian and his blonde bimbo were suddenly and somehow engaged. To be married. The man who told me marriage was a state of mind and that the real risk was staying not married because it was easier to walk away. Which meant staying meant more. Because when you were married, there were so many legal issues involved a lot of people would just stay married out of convenience.

  He told me that’s what his parents did. That they planned their divorce carefully, waiting for the right time when it was financially feasible to do it without hurting one another too much.

  The way he spun the story made marriage sound robotic, almost like a job. And that the wildness of romance was best left untethered, free to roam, knowing that at any breath your lover could leave, but they wouldn’t because of who you were.

  That cheap shit gave me bubbles in my belly.

  Now I wanted to vomit.

  Brian dumped me and proposed to Daisy the night before Valentine’s Day. And to think that just twenty-four hours earlier he was inside me. Inside me. His cheap thrusts and out of breath grunting. My fingers curled to the back of his shoulders as I stared at the ceiling finding my way along the cobbled sidewalk of an orgasm, hoping that Brian didn’t pass out or have a heart attack while fucking me.

  Oh, god…

  Now I was trying to find everything wrong with him. Every little thing to justify the way I hated him for what he did.

  But he had pulled it off. Somehow.

  He somehow tricked Daisy into believing that he was single. That he had gotten out of a relationship - with me - while I was still living in his home. That meant he convinced Daisy to love him and accept his proposal of marriage before living with him.

  My mind ached to know the story he told her.

  And I kind of wanted to slap that bitch. Not out of jealousy or anger. If she didn’t know… she didn’t know. But I wanted to slap her for being so naive and dumb. Who the fuck does that? Just listens to a man like Brian talk and then has a ring on her finger?

  I put my phone down and walked to the bathroom to splash icy cold water on my face. When I did and caught my reflection, I frowned.

  “You’re the dumb one,” I whispered.

  Because I fell for it.

  I bought into Brian’s bullshit for so long.

  The writing was so clear on the wall and all I did was put up a picture of me over it, thinking it was fine.

  At least now he wasn’t my problem.

  Even if it still hurt.

  He wasn’t my-

  The doorbell buzzed for my apartment.

  “Just a minute!” I called out.

  I checked my face in the mirror.

  And suddenly my mind flew back to the night before.

  Officer Tyler.

  Well, damn… talk about the right to remain silent. He left me jaw dropped and unable to find a single word to mutter. Nobody should ever look that good in a uniform.
Ever. Taller than a tree, arms thicker than a tree trunk. The way he moved, looked at me, talked, commanded me… those few minutes were the only ones that I had completely forgotten about Brian and what had happened.

  And to think, a few seconds later, I would have thrown that rock.

  Then what?

  Officer Tyler would have grabbed me. Put my hands behind my back. Cuffed me. Tight. Yelled at me.

  The doorbell buzzed again.

  I wiped my forehead and bit my lip.

  What is wrong with me?

  I was craving some kind of get rid of the pain anger sex with… a stranger? A cop?

  It was nonsense to think about. Even though it lingered in the back of my mind as I walked to the door.

  If Officer Tyler was here - meaning he memorized my address when he checked my ID - then he would just have to deal with the way I looked. That meant afternoon bedhead, coffee breath that still lingered after brushing my teeth (yeah, I drank that much coffee), and my baggy clothes. The sweatpants that once belonged to Brian.

  It felt odd, but then I had this vision of Officer Tyler stripping the pants off me. How’s that for revenge? A tall, strong, sexy cop taking the sweatpants I stole from my cheating ex off my body before he fucked me so I would never remember Brian again. That’s what I wanted. What I needed.

  I opened the door and screamed.

  The flowers were massive. Giant flowers that were all colors, some bloomed, some not. I knew nothing about flowers other than telling you what color they were. There were pink flowers peeled open with bright orange tips that looked dusty and primed to make me sneeze. There were oranges, browns, and reds. Those were the roses. A dozen roses mixed with a ton of other flowers.

  “Hello?” I asked as I stared at the flowers.

  I wondered how much coffee I really had to drink.

  Was I seeing things?

  Floating flowers?

  “Uh, sorry,” a voice said.

  The flowers moved down, and a man stood at my door. Shorter than me, wearing a baseball cap, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

  “Harper?” he asked.

  “That’s me.”

  “These are for you.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” the man said.