Back THE ATTRACTION
Chapters (80)
  1. Book Title
  2. About the Author
  3. Contact
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter One
  6. HARPER
  7. FORREST
  8. Chapter Two
  9. FORREST
  10. Chapter Three
  11. HARPER
  12. Chapter Four
  13. FORREST
  14. HARPER
  15. Chapter Five
  16. HARPER
  17. FORREST
  18. HARPER
  19. Chapter Six
  20. HARPER
  21. FORREST
  22. HARPER
  23. Chapter Seven
  24. HARPER
  25. Chapter Eight
  26. FORREST
  27. HARPER
  28. FORREST
  29. HARPER
  30. Chapter Nine
  31. HARPER
  32. FORREST
  33. HARPER
  34. Chapter Ten
  35. HARPER
  36. Chapter Eleven
  37. FORREST
  38. Chapter Twelve
  39. HARPER
  40. Chapter Thirteen
  41. FORREST
  42. Chapter Fourteen
  43. HARPER
  44. Chapter Fifteen
  45. FORREST
  46. HARPER
  47. FORREST
  48. Chapter Sixteen
  49. FORREST
  50. HARPER
  51. Chapter Seventeen
  52. FORREST
  53. HARPER
  54. Chapter Eighteen
  55. FORREST
  56. HARPER
  57. FORREST
  58. HARPER
  59. FORREST
  60. Chapter Nineteen
  61. HARPER
  62. FORREST
  63. Chapter Twenty
  64. HARPER
  65. FORREST
  66. Chapter Twenty-One
  67. HARPER
  68. FORREST
  69. HARPER
  70. Chapter Twenty-Two
  71. HARPER
  72. Epilogue
  73. 6 Weeks Later
  74. 2 Years Later
  75. 4 Weeks Later
  76. That Day Book Excerpt
  77. Chapter One
  78. KURT
  79. Also by Karen Deen
  80. Acknowledgments

And then it happens, and the moment his fist connects with my jaw, I hear sirens in the distance. The pain radiating through my body tells me that this is getting real now, and I need to push him over the edge.

I land a few more punches in his stomach, but I’m holding back my real rage. I want to kill this son of a bitch, but I can’t, and I won’t because that’s not who I am. That’s not the kind of man Harper wants me to be either.

As we go back and forth trading punches, the crowd around us starts shouting, and the sirens get closer. And that’s when a split-second break in concentration from looking at the police cars tearing down the street leaves me vulnerable. He lunges at me, knocking me to the ground, and in a second, he has the knife in his hand and his arm is moving. Feeling a sharp prick in my side, I have no idea what he has done to me, but I know I’m in trouble.

Shit.

I’ve fucked up here.

But before I have time to try to push him off me, his weight disappears off my chest, and the sharp pain in my side lessens as he is being pulled backward. Everything starts happening quickly, and I just lie here watching Ashton and one of his guys pin Chester to the ground, his face pushed into the concrete, his hands behind his back, and the knife by my side where he dropped it when they took him by surprise.

Putting my hand on my side where it hurts, I’m hesitant to look but know I need to, and as I pull my hand back up, I see the red dampness on it. The sight of blood should have me freaking out, but instead, it just fuels my rage. Who the hell assessed this man and deemed him stable enough to be let free from prison, and why wasn’t he being monitored by the parole system when he started searching for Harper? If it wasn’t for Ashton stumbling on this by accident while looking into another case, then we never would have known, and I can’t even bear to think of what could have happened.

I try to push onto my side so I can get up, because I made a deal that I would be standing and alive at the end of this, and I’m a man of my word.