To Know a Thief Ch. 03

Neither Harper nor Kohl moved for several minutes. When Kohl lifted his head to look at her, his expression was once more set in a blank mask. Harper stared right back but couldn't bring herself to be as distant. She liked being expressive, like when people read her so that she didn't have to speak. It made things easier.

"I don't know your name," he said. Harper couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound harsh and loud in the silence. Kohl raised an eyebrow. "That amuses you."

She shook her head. "My mind can't even fucking process it."

"Because someone who doesn't know your name, someone who came into your house to rob you, just made you feel things your husband never has. You think you're in shock right now, don't you?" He sat up and ran a hand through his damp hair. "You're not. You won't be. I'm sure you'll find a way to justify that to yourself."

Harper slid back, away from him, and wrapped her arms around her knees, suddenly defensive and needing modesty. "You didn't just 'come into my house to rob me', you actually did it. You robbed me."

"I robbed your husband too, didn't I?" Harper flushed and started to shake her head but he gave her a cold look and continued. "I took away his good little wife and replaced her with a woman willing to fuck a common criminal. What will you tell him about tonight? Let me guess, you slept right through it. Had no idea anyone was here."

"You'd better hope that's what I say!" Her voice rose of its own volition and she worked to calm herself.

Kohl's brow furrowed and she saw his hands curl into fists. "From anyone else, that would've sounded like a threat."

They stared each other down for a long moment before he slid from the tangled sheets and padded over to the dresser. Harper's breath caught when his hand reached toward the knife but he moved past it, snatching the camera and shutting it off. He took the SD card, looked over at where she was still huddled on the bed, and snapped it in half.

Harper stared with confusion as he began to dress, mixed with relief and disappointment as first his legs and then smooth, tone chest were covered. He snatched up one of his boots and propped a foot up on the frame again to lace it, eyes occasionally flicking up to her. She was very aware of the fact that she was naked.

When he grabbed his jacket and pulled it back on, Harper motioned to the knife still lying on the dresser. Kohl smiled. "I'll leave that for you. God forbid someone else breaks in and you have to make the same proposition. All the thieves for miles would come running to ransack this house."

Harper nearly laughed in surprise but she was still reeling from what he'd done with the camera. There was no evidence of what had just happened . . . Did that mean he was going to kill her? As soon as she thought it she dismissed it. No matter what he said, her gut told her that he wasn't a murderer. Maybe it was stupid—maybe she was stupid—but instinct and logic were in agreement on the topic. She didn't trust them on their own but together, they were compelling.

Kohl scrubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe off his freckles, or the sweat still lingering on his skin. He went to the window, pushing aside the curtains, and slid it open. Cool night air swirled into the room and Harper automatically closed her eyes and sighed in relief. She hadn't realized how hot the room had gotten. When she opened them again Kohl was staring at her. Unreadable. The man staring her down wasn't the man who'd just had sex with her, but the man who'd crept into her house to rob her.

Without another word he headed to the door, heavy boots quiet on the hardwood. How did someone that size move with such fluidity and stealth? No wonder he was a thief.

"My name's Harper," she said suddenly.

Kohl paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I didn't ask."

"I'm aware of that," she sneered, and swore that the corner of his mouth flicked up for a moment. "I just thought you should know. For when you tell the story about the woman who let you rob her and sleep with her in the same night."

Through his curls she saw his eyes flash. "I'm not going to tell this story." Then he eased open the door and left. Harper listened to him move through her living room and once the front door opened and shut, she stared over at the night sky peeking through the curtains. The window was framed on each side by collages she'd made of her and Jasper, and she didn't dare let her gaze drift over to them. She knew that as soon as she looked into that kind face, she'd break.

Harper needed to do something. Anything. She pulled her nightgown back on, replaced the sheets and pillowcases—sniffing those to see if Kohl's scent could give her away, but they only smelled of fabric softener—then went to the dresser. Her camera sat on its side, the bottom port hanging open and the empty SD slot visible. She looked for the card and realized with a jolt that Kohl had taken it with him.

Hiding the small blade deep in her underwear drawer and settling back on her bed, Harper stared out the window until the sun began to rise.

"Get up, lazy." Harper groaned and rolled onto her side, burrowing back into the covers. There was a chuckle and then the room flooded with light as the curtains were pushed aside. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the blanket over her head.

"It's past noon," Jasper informed her. The sound of his voice made her eyes fly open and guilt swept through her, made her heart thunder in her chest. Something else bothered her but she couldn't put her finger on it, too overwhelmed by her sudden affliction. Kohl had been wrong: she had been in shock the previous night. Just thinking his name made her blush and then she hated herself all over again.

Harper threw the blankets back and let the light blind her. She deserved it. There was a groan as Jasper settled down next to her, pushing the tangled hair from her face. Her skin grew cold at his touch and she sat up to break the connection. He'd gotten off work at six and Harper examined his side of the bed to see if he'd slept next to her. He hadn't. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or even more guilt-ridden.

"Nightmares keep you up again?" he asked. Harper nodded vaguely and got up, dressing quickly and pulling her hair up in a ponytail. When she went into the hallway she realized what had been nagging her and she quick footed it into the living room. Why hadn't he mentioned their missing TV and computers? As she stepped into the room she went numb with shock. He hadn't mentioned it because there was nothing missing.

The TV was still on the stand. Computer was still on the desk. Her phone was even resting on the couch where she'd left it. Harper shook her head, unable to process what she was seeing. How was it possible? She'd heard them moving around in there last night, distinctly remembered the sounds of objects being lifted and things being unplugged.

There were two explanations, neither of which appealed to her: one, there had never been any robbery. They'd broken into her house for a different reason—her?—and lied to her. It wasn't uncommon for thieves to lie, obviously, but that seemed so unnecessary. Why not just storm in and rape her? She wouldn't have been able to stop them.

The second explanation was that they had taken her things and while she slept, put everything back. That made even less sense. Harper rubbed her temples and pursed her lips. She was infuriated, humiliated, burning with self-hatred and a shred of denial. Such a cocktail didn't put her in a good mood and she spent the rest of the day stewing and muttering under her breath.

After waking her, Jasper had left to play baseball with his friends. She hadn't offered to go with him and he hadn't asked. Such was their ritual. They almost never saw each other even though she was home nearly every second of every day. Why had such an extrovert married someone like her? Dark thoughts swirled in her brain as she mulled until she couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't even glance in the direction of her bedroom and being in the living room, seeing all of her possessions that hadn't been stolen, was driving her mad.

Harper pulled on a navy dress—people always complimented her on it and she never had the heart to say that she loved dresses for their function, not their beauty—and practically ran out of her apartment. She lived in the heart of the city, surrounded by cafes and shops and happy people going on their merry way. Sometimes the joyful buzz infected her as she walked around, but it couldn't penetrate the bubble surrounding her. Each happy couple strolling by was a slap in the face and every haunted loner she saw was like looking into a mirror.

Even her beloved logic couldn't pull her out of the bog. What she'd done had been wrong and, apparently, groundless. Was that why Kohl had broken the SD card, to further her shame? If so, he'd made a good call. It was working. Harper tutted and realized that she'd left her house to get her mind off of the night before but had spent it dwelling. Cursing herself, she went into the next shop she passed, determined to focus on nothing but mindless shopping.

It worked, but barely. She walked out an hour later with bags in her hands and an infinitesimally lighter step. The sun began to droop as she made her way back toward her house and her phone buzzed. Jasper was leaving for work, he'd see her tomorrow. She didn't bother texting back and just like that, her fragile good mood was gone.

By the time she rounded the corner and faced her building, night had descended. Harper dragged her feet as she went into the lobby—and froze mid-step.

"Hello," Kohl addressed her evenly. He was standing with his arms crossed, same jacket but different clothes—all black—fitted snugly to his body.

Harper gulped and ignored the questions buzzing around her skull, vying for her attention. All she could manage was, "Hi." When Kohl said nothing else she stepped around him and went up the stairs, thrilled and terrified when he fell into step behind her. A massive, silent shadow.

She set her bags down and unlocked the door with shaking hands, stomach knotting. When she pushed the door open but didn't go inside she heard Kohl snort behind her and realized, as his breath hit her, that he was standing much closer than she'd thought. Too close.

"I'm a criminal, not a caveman. I'm not just going to elbow my way inside."

Harper grabbed her bags and went in, turning in the doorway to look at him. He noticed that she was blocking his way and his eyes narrowed.

"Afraid of what might happen if you invite me in?" he scoffed.

Yes. "No."

Kohl saw right through her and grinned. The brilliance of it blinded her more thoroughly than the sun had that morning. "Come to dinner with me."

Harper started. It was a demand, not a question. Despite his claim that he wouldn't force his way into her apartment—a ridiculous lie, given that he'd already done so—she knew he wasn't giving her a choice. Her skin heated at the thought of going anywhere with him, even somewhere public.

"I already ate," she said.

Kohl's nostrils flared. "What I said last night is still true, Harper." A tingle went through her as he said her name, though he didn't say it kindly. "No lying. From either of us. Do you understand?"

Harper didn't answer and he made a sound low in his throat. "Tell me you understand. Now."

"And if I don't?" she challenged.

"Then I'm leaving and I won't be back. Is that what you want, to never see me again just so you can save a little pride? I'm surprised you still have any."

Harper's brow furrowed and she grew hot for a different reason. How dare he try to pile more shame on top of her. Was he trying to crush her with it? Would that make his black heart happy?

Keeping her voice low so that any eavesdropping neighbors wouldn't hear, Harper spat, "I guess you think I should've just died last night. Let your two sleazy buddies rape me and stab me to death. Would you have joined in or just watched with that stupid look on your face?"

Kohl slunk forward, toeing the line between her apartment and the hallway, leaning over her. She didn't let herself shrink back, though she wanted to.

"You're right," he said flatly. "If you hadn't done what you did, you would probably be dead right now. It was a calculated decision and it paid off—better than you ever thought it would, if your groaning was any indication." His adam's apple bobbed. "Now get your purse. We're going to dinner."

Harper's mouth opened and closed. What the fuck was wrong with her, that his words made her ache like that? She could feel the wetness between her legs and cursed herself as the worst woman to ever walk the earth.

"You said you wouldn't lie," she began, "so if I ask you a few questions, you'll answer them?"

"Every word out of my mouth will be the truth," Kohl promised. Harper studied his face and resolutely believed him. She got her purse, threw the bags on the couch, and followed him back down the stairs.