Page 69 of Hearts Don't Lie
“Cavorting?” The need to protect Mac and Stowe roared forth. Hardin frowned at his father. “I date women,” he said offhandedly, hoping the simple statement and its tone was a diversion, but also very much aware of his father’s uncanny ability to read people.
“I understand that you’ve been seeing only her. It concerns us, especially since you’re absent from training.” Nathan stared pointedly at Hardin.
“Who I see is none of your goddamned business. Neither is what I do or why I do it. Why don’t you and Mother get on your plane and hop back to wherever you flew in from?”
“Insolence doesn’t become you, Hardin. We raised you better than that.”
It was all he could do to not roll his eyes.
Nathan pulled some papers from the inside of his navy silk blazer. “These are all over social media. Is this woman that same girl from high school?”
Hardin’s fury unleashed. “She has a name, Father. But you wouldn’t wish to remember it, would you?” He heard his mother’s sharp intake of breath but kept going. “And yes, she is the same girl whose mother you paid off. The same girl you slapped with not one but two restraining orders. The same girl you fucked over time and time again! I overheard you bragging to your cronies about having her full ride to NCU rescinded. Did you get off—”
His mother clutched her pearls. “Hardin!”
“We did you a favor,” Nathan said angrily.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, raging. “The hell you did!”
“Do not speak to your father like that!”
Hardin waved at his mother dismissively, then snarled, “Sorry.”
“Once a whore, always a whore, Hardin.” Diane’s face was pinched in fury. “She’s a gold digger, beneath your status. You cannot love her!”
“I loved her. I love her still.”
“Bro—”
Hardin’s head whipped from his parents, locking eyes with the frightened eyes of Stowe, who was standing in the doorway. The door must have been left cracked open.Fucking Christ. “Stowe,” he whispered.
“Who is that?” Nathan demanded, his face contorted in an ugly mask.
In the moment Hardin glanced at his father and then back, Stowe had disappeared.
Nathan stared at the empty space and frowned. “I thought I heard something.”
“You’re tired, dear. And all this stress Hardin is putting us through—”
Hardin glared at his mother and ran to the door, throwing it open and looking in both directions. The hall was empty.
How much of the nasty argument had Stowe heard? Jesus Christ. Hardin spun, zeroing in on his parents. “Get the hell out of here!” he shouted, sprinting past them and into the bedroom.
Mac was on speed dial. He held the phone to his ear while he slipped on his socks and tied his gym shoes. The call went to her voice mail.
Breathlessly he said, “Baby, call me.”
His parents were still there when Hardin came back out to the common room. “GET. THE. FUCK. OUT.” He seethed, pointing to the door. “NOW!” It was all he could do to wait on them to exit.
His parents walked stonily toward the elevator, heads held high as if nothing was amiss. He pocketed the electronic key card and slammed the door behind him, taking the stairs down to the ground floor as fast as he dared.
Stowe was nowhere to be seen. Darkening clouds were gathering over the peaks. The need to find his son intensified.
A driver waited next to a black town car, he presumed for his parents.
Fuck them.
An hour and a half later, Hardin stood on a sidewalk in the center of Piñon Ridge, anxiety eating a hole in him.The clouds over the peaks continued to build, appearing more menacing. He’d had no luck finding Stowe, but then PR was big enough to disappear in, especially for an eleven-year-old who knew every nook and cranny.
