Chapter 21

Beckett

By the time I pocket my phone and head across the porch, Harlow's already moving toward me with that look she gets when she's read my whole mood from twenty feet away and doesn't need a single word to know whether I'm irritated, pissed, or one bad sentence from making somebody else's day worse.

Her hand lands flat on my chest before I reach her. "How bad."

"Bad enough that I'm trying real