Peter paced the living room floor. He was going nuts, he was sure of it. Days had gone by since last he'd seen the sun. Moving the curtains aside he looked out the window to his driveway, a news van was still camped out front. He was growing increasingly tired of feeling like a prisoner, and while he could easily slip into the garage and drive out the alley in Viktor's car, surely they would make him and follow. Their cameras flashing rapidly in his face every time they managed to corner him.
He didn't even bother getting the newspaper anymore for fear they might be lying in wait to ram their microphones in his face and spit questions out at him in rapid fire succession. Peter longed for the time when he would get back out on the ice, start training camp, but even then, he probably wouldn't be able to escape the dogging press and their raging accusations. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
Sadie looked up from her spot on the couch, whining once as she watched Peter continue to pace, she laid her head back down onto her paws and let out one long doggy sigh. Even she wasn't immune to the stress. Peter watched her drift back off to sleep, a sad smile playing fleetingly across his face. He wondered if he'd run into Harmony if he could somehow manage to outrun the press and make it to the dog park where they'd met.
He'd give anything to go back to that day.
With what he knew now, Peter surely could have changed things given the chance, he would never have gone to that bar. But you can't change the past. Damned if he was going to continue on in his present situation though.
Andre had stopped by that morning. It was a brief visit, but a welcome one. Viktor wasn't coming back until a week before training camp, and Andre was getting ready himself to go home to Canada for a week or so, but he wanted to check in on Peter first, see how he was doing. He hadn't liked the shadows under his eyes, or how pale his skin and irises looked, had, in fact, said as much, but given that Peter was pretty much holed up in here alone, he didn't really expect anything else.
He tried to give Peter hope, tried to tell him that everything would indeed be alright, he'd see. But how could he? Andre's life wasn't in turmoil, his career on the line, the girl of his dreams at arm’s length as he suffered in silence. Peter figured there were few people in the world that could truly appreciate the situation he was in, and he pitied them, more now than ever. Hadn't he seen this happen to other guys in the league? Wasn't that why he was so careful when he went out?
Andre took women home with him on a regular basis, and yet, not one of them had dared try anything of this sort on him. The very girl accusing him of this heinous crime had indeed slept with Andre mere weeks ago, and still, it was Peter she had gone after. A man she had no more than hugged, someone she'd said all of a handful of words too. It just didn't make any sense.
Hell, even though he'd signed this big spiffy contract, Andre was the one who currently made more money. Peter didn't have the kind of endorsements Andre did. And while Andre was still settling on a deal that his agent was currently working out, he'd made more money last season than Peter. Both of them had been on two-year entry level contracts, Peter having come over from the KHL and Andre having been brought up from the AHL, but Andre's contract had earned him a few thousand more. So why Peter?
Perhaps it was the language barrier? Or maybe she felt, given his background, that Peter would be an easier mark? Poor little Russian didn't know the ways of the world, let's take him for all he's worth. Was that it? Was it as simple as his naivety? Or had this been about revenge? Was it because Peter wouldn't sleep with her? And why should he have?
She was plain by anyone's standards, it just so happened that Andre in his callous youth didn't have much in the way of standards. Of course, given the gravity of the situation, and how closely he was involved, Andre was bound to change his ways, lest he ends up the one in the hot seat next time.
Peter tried to shrug it all off. In less than a month he would report to training camp. He would have a new season to look forward to, plenty to occupy his time and his thoughts. But what to do with himself now? He wished Harmony was here. He wanted her to believe in his innocence, take away his pain, and allow him to distract them both.
No matter how many times he tried to call her though, both on her cell and at work, he never got through. A girl at the grocery store had informed him that she only worked once a week now, and he had just missed her. He wondered what that was about. Was she okay? Why had she gone from working six days a week to just one?
Had he caused such pain for her that she couldn't even face working anymore? She had seemed to love that store, to enjoy her job. He couldn't live with himself if he'd hurt her so badly. He had to talk to her.
After trying her phone one more time, and getting the voicemail after a couple of rings, he peered out the window once again, noted that the van had left, probably for lunch, they were never gone for long after all, and decided it was now or never.
He had to see her. Now.
Peter threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, slipped into his riding jacket and boots, then headed into the garage, at least if took the Ducati he could outrun those bastards. He certainly didn't want them to follow him to Harmony's house, she'd been through enough already, he was sure of it. So far she'd been kept out of the press, and he'd see to it if he could keep it that way.
About half an hour later, taking various side roads and alleys just in case anyone had been keeping tabs on him, Peter pulled up in front of Harmony's building, and as luck would have it, she was home.
“Peter.” She said, answering the door before he even managed to knock. “What are you doing here?”
He could have sworn he'd seen something flicker in her gaze, the briefest hint of longing, or desire. But upon closer examination, he figured he must have seen what he so desperately wanted to see, for as she looked at him with her watchful eyes, dark smudges underneath, all he found now was a weariness, one that made him ache deep within the marrow of his bones.
She looked as though she'd lost some weight, her cheeks a little slimmer, her curves less defined. And Peter cursed himself for it. His beautiful luscious Harmony was dwindling before his very eyes. It was all his fault. No. He had to stop blaming himself, he couldn't have known what was going through the mind of that monster when she had asked for an autograph.
Peter had come across many fans since arriving in the US and taking up with the Slashers organization, and after narrowly missing out on rookie of the year, then earning himself a consideration for the Norris Trophy this year, people had become even more aware of him. He had already been finding it harder and harder to go out in public without being accosted by fans, and now, of course, that would increase two fold, though probably not in a positive fashion. Though he'd yet to test that theory.
He didn't really care what his fans thought at this point though. Not really. Okay, maybe he did to a certain extent, but he had the backing and support of his family, as well as his team and the entire Slashers organization. Even the commissioner of the NHL had given him his support, off the record of course, but he still had it. And that was what mattered. Not a bunch of people that couldn't see past his income and skill set.
Except Harmony.
He needed Harmony. He wanted her to believe him, and it was time they talked. Hell, it was past time that they had it out. He wasn't going to let her ignore him a second longer.
“May I come in?” he asked, shifting his helmet from the crook of one arm to the other.
Harmony nodded, taking a step back so he could enter. He was here, Peter was really here.
For a moment she had been tempted to tell him to go home. After her conversation with Kate earlier in the day, she needed more time to really think things over. But seeing him before her, how pale he was, and how utterly haunted he looked, she couldn't turn him away.
And hadn't she been hoping he'd stop by? Hadn't she jumped up and looked out the window every time she heard a noise that so much as resembled a motorcycle? She'd freaked Lupus out more than once with the way she had lunged off the couch so fast. That's how she'd known to open the door before he'd knocked.
She'd heard his bike, though at first, she assumed it was her imagination again, but she'd checked the window anyways, gasping as she'd watched him pull into her driveway. Her heart began to flutter, then thump wildly under her breast as she watched him swing his leg over the side of the Ducati, how his jeans had constricted, tightening around his groin.
He'd unzipped his jacket, his t-shirt underneath giving the barest hint of his hard packed abdominals as he'd reached for his helmet and took it off, shaking his head of unruly blonde hair, the wind whipping through it. And when he'd looked to her doorway, his eyes as cold as ice, his full lips compressed into a frown... God, he'd looked so dangerous. He certainly had that brooding thing down.
But it only made her tremble in excitement. Despite the tabloid fodder, and the wild accusations of one girl, Harmony had to admit that the sight of him was more than just a little arousing. Her entire body tingled, it was as if he'd been standing before her, his fingers deftly removing her clothing, and she suddenly felt very constricted in her baggy sweater as she had watched him approach. Surely staying away from Peter had been the right thing to do.
Then why did she feel this way? It was like watching her soldier walk up the drive after a long deployment overseas. It had only been a couple of weeks since last she'd laid eyes on him, but seeing him now, it seemed as if a year had passed. Why had she kept him at bay? Because he didn't trust you. Her subconscious berated her. Oh. Right.
But she'd let him in anyways. And Lupus, having been outside, rushed in through the doggy door, throwing himself at Peter, he rolled onto his back, wiggling and panting like a little puppy, begging for attention. Peter scratched him absently as he continued to look over Harmony, who was now standing with her back braced against the closed door.
Her body raged with a fever that only he could break, so she kept her distance. Harmony feared that if he touched her she would fall at his feet and beg. She had to gain control of herself, and she needed to do it fast. Her resolve was weakening every time their eyes met.
“Can we talk?” he said after a minute, the tension in the air so thick he was nearly choking from it.
“What's there to say?” Harmony crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to move away from the door for the moment.
Sighing, Peter sensed her hesitation and pulled a chair out of the kitchen placing it in front of her, and grabbing a second one for himself. She sat down only when he did as well, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands in her lap.
“Why do you not believe me?”
The question was simple, however, the answer was anything but.
Harmony squirmed under his intense gaze, gripping the arms of the chair as if to gain some sort of support, he cocked one eyebrow trying to encourage a response. She had none. She'd tried to think about things logically and rationally, and then she'd tried to consider her own intuition. Everything so far pointed to Peter's innocence, so why was she so damned determined to believe the word of a complete stranger over the man she had come to love?
“Tell me what happened that night Peter.”
Peter took a deep breath, his eyes never wavering, but Harmony noticed how his hands clenched into fists at his sides, he stood, pushed the chair away, and began to pace. If she could have shrunk away from him at that point she would have. Harmony felt so vulnerable as she watched him stride around the room, his muscles tense, his energy hovering to an almost dangerous degree. But she wasn't afraid. Harmony knew that despite his heritage and his obvious strength, Peter would never hurt her, but his panther-like grace should have frightened her nonetheless.
“I went to the bar with Andre. After a couple of beers, I leave, he was with some girl by then. So I went home. Outside of bar two girls come up to me, ask me for autograph.” He stopped, shrugged, then paced again. “I say no problem. Give to them. Then the one girl wants a picture. Again, no problem. I give to her, and I leave. I get home and let Sadie out, she comes back in covered in mud, and jumps all over me, so we take a shower, and then you show up. I never see that girl again, and I certainly not touch her other than simple hug for photograph.”
As Harmony absorbed his words, going over the chain of events, and taking into account how she had found him, how his mood had been, again, it all added up to the same conclusion she'd come to in the beginning. Peter was innocent.
“What about the first time you met her? Andre said you guys saw her before.”
Peter stopped pacing again, stood in front of her, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of jealousy popped into them. “Andre was here? When?”
His nerves were obviously strung as tight as her own, he teetered dangerously close to the edge of a powerful storm, she could all but feel the lightning as it simmered around him, and as the sexual tension she felt herself began to climb to new heights, spurred on by his reaction to Andre having come anywhere near her, she had to fight to maintain control.
“He tried to convince me that you were innocent.”
“But you do not want to believe even him? Why Harmony? Is this anything to do with that man in your past? Can you no see the difference between he and I?”
“Tell me about the first time you met her.” She interrupted, refusing to answer his questions just yet.
Peter scoffed, folding his arms against the broad expanse of his chest, the hem of his shirt lifting ever so slightly to reveal his hard packed abs as it scrunched up in his tightly folded forearms, his muscles constricting as his fists curled. He was so spectacularly made, even now with his face contorted in anger, his features were that of a beautiful warrior.
She wanted to go to him, to wrap herself around him and feel his body go lax. She could imagine how it would be, he would crumble under her soft touch, then he would gather her into his arms, and he would press kisses to her face and neck.
Shaking her head mentally, Harmony blinked. Her mouth was near to watering, how was she supposed to think rationally or logically when he looked so damn sexy? It was all she could do not to give in to her sexual urges.
He spoke then, pulling her from her shameful thoughts. “I do not remember the first time. Would not have Viktor told me about it, I would not have known at all. I was with Andre and Viktor that time. At same bar. She and her friend, I think it was same one, they come to us, and I leave. Andre tell me later that he took girl home with him. That they end up talking about me and my contract.”
“Contract?” she blurted, this was news to her. Andre hadn't said anything about a contract. True, he'd said she was obviously after money, but he'd never really gone into detail.
“Da. Yes, contract.” Peter turned away from her, his back now to her as he went on, perhaps as though talking about money made him nervous. Did he think Harmony was only interested in his money? “I have, how you say, extended deal with the Slashers. Eight years for six million each. Andre is due to make similar deal, but has not yet. Said he and the girl talked about these things, and maybe that is why she came after me. Is useless though. I will not pay her anything.”
Stunned by his revelation, Harmony pushed a button that she would quickly regret. “Not even if it meant she'd go away?”
Peter whirled on her then, his hands coming to either side of the chair arms that she sat in. She could see the raw energy in his eyes, sparks snapping like an exposed electrical current. “I am innocent!” He shouted, his breath hot on her face, she tried to make herself smaller, afraid of him for the first time. Sensing how he was making her feel, he pulled away quickly, rubbing his hands on his jean-clad thighs to prevent them from balling into fists again.
“Why would I pay someone if I did not do what she would accuse me of?” he asked more softly, though not waiting for an answer. “I have done nothing wrong, net. I will not pay for a mistake I have not made. Having a beer in a bar is not a crime no? Giving autograph to fan is not a crime, no? I will not pay for her to lie, would perhaps only encourage her to do it again.”
Her mouth still open in shock as she leaned as far back into the chair as possible, she flinched when he approached her again, boldly skimming a finger down the side of her cheek. “I am sorry if I have scared you. This has been so hard for me. I need you Harmony, can not you see that?”
She shook her head, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as she gulped audibly and waited for him to make his next move.
He did not. He took a step back instead.
A shiver ran through her as his hands dropped back to his sides and the contact ended. And she could swear one side of his mouth quirked upward for the barest hint of a second, though as her eyes focused on him, she couldn't find any trace of amusement on his clearly pained face.
Sighing again as he watched her guarded expression, Peter said. “I will go.”
Before she could say anything though, Peter moved around her and walked out the door. Harmony took a deep breath, willing herself to move, but by the time she managed to get out of the chair and open the door, he was straddling the powerful motorcycle, the engine roaring to life as he backed it slowly out of the driveway.
Harmony called out to him, but as he was looking over his shoulder the whole time, he didn't see her, and couldn't hear her over the noise of the bike. She wanted to run to him, but her feet wouldn't move.
Had she blown her chance with Peter?
He shouldn't have gone there. Peter knew that now.
But he wasn't mistaken, she cared for him, at least there was that. For whatever reason, Harmony was having trouble admitting that she both cared for and believed in Peter. He figured it had to do with her ex-boyfriend, though why she couldn't see the stark differences between them he wasn't sure.
Peter had been honest from the start. While he hadn't told her what was going on, he had said he was innocent, and that she just needed to trust him. Trust the system. The law, though taking their time, was working through things, and in another week or two the results from the DNA test would be back, and his name would be cleared.
The press, though they still hounded him for an interview, had stopped crucifying him in the news. It seemed as if the whole world was holding their breaths, waiting for those damned test results. Hell, Peter could almost live with the fact that his life was never going to be the same. He knew he'd get booed by fans of other teams, the Slashers were the Stanley Cup winners, and because other fans hated them for that, they would latch onto this and run with it.
Peter might even be pelted with garbage, though that merely served to make the fans themselves look bad, and he could handle that too, but he couldn't live with the fact that Harmony didn't trust him. He needed her, couldn't she see that? Yes, he thought so. She'd been unusually quiet in his presence, but he heard loud and clear the things she hadn't said.
The way she'd looked at him, as though he were a tall glass of water and she as thirsty as if she had just come from a walk in the desert. Or how she had trembled when he'd touched her. Her eyes pleading with him. Harmony was not immune to him, if even only in the physical sense, he had an effect on her. He'd take that for now, because though he'd only been with a few women, he was more than confident in his ability to pleasure a woman, and with enough physical loving, perhaps Harmony would allow her heart to feel as well.
He hadn't pushed her then though. He would need to know that she believed in his innocence first. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't need the physical proof though first. He would, of course, give it to her if that was the only way, be he knew it would hurt. If she couldn't take him at his word, it would probably crush him.
Harmony spent the rest of her day cursing herself and her stubborn pride. She believed Peter, at least, she thought she did. She was just so caught up in the past, and perhaps in the betrayal she felt when he refused to trust her, to tell her right away what had happened, that she couldn't seem to bring herself to accept the fact that Peter had done nothing wrong.
Unable to stand even her own company any longer, Harmony turned in early.
The next morning, Harmony let Lupus out the front door to grab the paper, she was surprised however when she heard a low throaty growl emanating from him as he stood at the edge of the driveway and proceeded to bark.
Calling to him, she saw a black sedan parked on the other side of the road, a tall thin man running in the direction of it. Lupus gave one more loud protest, then snatching the paper off the ground he trotted back inside depositing it at her feet. She had no idea who the man was, or why he was running in the opposite direction of her home, but she was glad just now for Lupus and his protective instincts.
She didn't give it another thought though once she closed the door and took the paper into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. After adding a fair amount of cream and sugar to her mug, Harmony sat down in her favorite chair in the living room, turned on the news and opened the paper. Her mouth dropping nearly to the floor as she read the latest about Peter and the assault case.
If she really had any doubt about his innocence, surely there was none of that now. But how had the reporter gotten this information? Surely Peter couldn't have known these things? Could he? No. And even if he had, Harmony was certain he wouldn't interfere in such a way. She had no doubt the Slashers organization would frown upon hashing things out in the media. They were a high-class group as it was, and would likely find the negative publicity damaging to their reputation.
Of course, all the writer had said was a source close to the hockey star, and a source involved with the accuser. Accuser, that's what they were calling her at this point, she wasn't even the victim anymore. At this rate, the next article published would be one where the writer would try to convince readers that Peter was the true victim here, and it certainly looked that way.
Harmony was confused, she hadn't wanted to believe Peter capable of such a thing to begin with, and the “facts” hadn't really added up as they should have, there were too many holes, and yet, reading this, the truth blindly staring her in the face, she still wasn't one hundred percent satisfied. Not that she had any doubts about Peter's innocence now, but the hurt was still there, the pain in the knowledge that he felt he couldn't confide in her.
That she had to hear of it from the morning news was a betrayal of her trust. She didn't give a damn that it had still been an investigation at that point, she wasn't a member of the press after all. Had Peter thought she was going to expose him? Had he honestly felt she wouldn't have believed him? But she hadn't had she? No, not at first. So maybe Peter had every right to keep it from her. Gosh, this was too much.
Grabbing Lupus' leash, she clipped it on to him and headed out the door, she needed some air.