Gluttony

“Thank God you’re here!” she cried, flinging her arms around Miranda. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what just happened. I just, I don’t knoooooooow.”

Miranda let her best friend cry against her shoulder, trying not to regret the fact that she’d left Harper a message to explain where she was or to wonder whether her brand-new, now-tear-stained birthday shirt was dry-clean-only. She certainly tried not to resent the fact that Harper’s latest melodrama was interrupting-well, she didn’t know what it was, but that was the point.

Above all else, Miranda was a good friend, and good friends listened. They sometimes snuck glances out of the corner of their eye at tall, well-built Greek gods in training, and sometimes got distracted wondering how to kiss that hot smirk off a certain hot face-but mostly, they listened. Or at least pretended to.

“What’s wrong now?” Miranda asked, lightly patting Harper’s back.

And then Harper began to tell her story, and as the details poured out, Miranda no longer needed to pretend.

“Kaia’s dead, and now Beth’s just lying there, crying, like I’m supposed to feel sorry for her,” Harper concluded, taking a long gulp of Miranda’s drink and then, finishing it, grabbed Kane’s out of his hand and downed that one too. “And Adam’s just taking it. Like he doesn’t care. That she killed someone. That she drugged me. That…” Harper sagged against Miranda, moaning as if all the words had leaked out of her. Then she burst into tears.

“I don’t believe it,” Miranda said, shaking her head.

“I do.” Kane had been so silent that Miranda had almost forgotten he was there. He was holding himself very still, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I should have known,” he said, so quietly that she could barely hear him. “I should have figured it out.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” Miranda countered. “Where would she even get the drugs, and how would she, how could she do something so…” But she was beginning to remember how it had felt, those days and weeks after Harper betrayed her-and how Beth’s pain had cut so much deeper. How Beth’s lust for revenge had overwhelmed them both. And Miranda had been more than happy to let Beth talk her into anything. She had so desperately wanted to lash out, to hurt Harper the way she’d been hurt. If Beth had come to Miranda with the plan-the plan she must have thought would be harmless-would Miranda have talked her out of it?

Or would she have gone along for the ride?

Harper didn’t know how long she had been crying. She’d held it together as she walked out of the hotel room, strode down the hall, waited impatiently for the elevator-maybe because she had still hoped Adam would follow.

But he didn’t. And when the elevator doors closed her in, she lost it. She’d been crying ever since. Crying and drinking, drinking and crying, and even though she was in public, and she could feel Miranda and Kane staring down at her, for once, she didn’t care. What did it matter what they thought-what anyone thought?

She was in a strange city, surrounded by foreign people and places, and her world was shattered.

It shouldn’t matter, she told herself. Losing Adam. She’d been through worse. She’d lost more than that. She’d survived.

But it all added up. And just knowing what Beth had done, knowing she was up there in the room, with Adam, that the two of them were… together… it felt like a knife digging into her side, carving out pieces of flesh. Soon there would be nothing left.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder. At least she still had Miranda. She felt a gush of gratitude. “Harper, come on, let’s get out of here,” her friend-the only one who hadn’t betrayed her-said gently.

“I can’t go back to the hotel,” Harper moaned. “Not when he’s there. With her.”

“Okay. Okay, then, let’s just go somewhere more private, get you… cleaned up.”

Dimly, Harper realized she must look like shit. And probably the whole bar was staring at the crazy girl, wondering what was wrong with her.

Someone spiked my drink, Harper thought giddily. Call the cops.

She didn’t care about any of it, but she let Miranda pull her out of the chair and guide her toward the back of the bar. Kane kept his hand on her lower back, keeping her steady. She wanted to tell him she didn’t need his help, but she couldn’t choke the words out.

“I’m going to take her in here,” Miranda said, and Harper realized she was talking to Kane. She was talking as if Harper couldn’t hear her, couldn’t speak or act for herself.

Miranda pushed open the door to the women’s room, and Kane caught Harper’s hand, pulling her toward him. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders and held her firmly. He looked blurry and out of focus, but she knew it was just the tears. “We’ll figure this out, Grace,” he said. “It’s all going to be fine.”

He’d always been a good liar.

Miranda led her inside the empty bathroom and left Kane outside to guard the door. Harper, usually unwilling to touch anything in a public restroom without several layers of paper towel between her and the germs of the masses, hopped up on the edge of the sink and leaned back against the mirror.

“This is it,” she said dejectedly, trying to pull herself back together. “He’s gone. I have to deal.”

“He’s not gone,” Miranda pointed out. “He’s back in the room right now, probably wondering where you are. You sure he didn’t call you?”

Harper shrugged. He had called. Seven times. She hadn’t answered. “I don’t care if he’s looking for me. He stayed with her, after what she did. He stayed with her.”

“Is that really so unforgivable?”

“Rand, after what she did to me?”

“She didn’t do it to you,” Miranda said flatly. A look of horror flashed across her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like-”

“Yeah. You did.” Harper hung her head down and wiped away the last of her tears. “I get it. I’m selfish. It’s all about me. Whatever. This isn’t about me, I get that. It’s about Kaia. No, screw that. It’s about Beth, and what she did-and how she lied about it. She hurt so many people, Rand. And a few little tears and it’s like, poof! Adam forgives and forgets. He never forgave me.”

“I know.” Miranda put an arm around Harper’s shoulders. “I know it feels like he’s choosing Beth over you-”

“Because he is,” Harper said sullenly. At least she was finally getting it.

“But maybe…”

“What?”

Miranda opened her mouth. Shut it again. “Never mind.”

“Just tell me!”

“Maybe it’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be,” Miranda suggested.

“She spiked my drink because she wanted to humiliate me. She wanted to rum my life, and ended up killing Kaia. She’s a murderer. What’s simpler than that?”

“But she didn’t mean for it to happen.” Miranda smoothed Harper’s hair down and rubbed a hand across her back. “It was an accident.”

Harper laughed bitterly through her tears. “An accident. Right. The only accident is that Kaia’s the one who ended up dead. You know the little psycho was hoping it was me.”

Miranda sighed. “No. She didn’t want you dead. She just wanted…”