Chapter 95 Wash with Me
Harper was so nervous that her legs went weak, and the only weapon she had was the flashlight in her hand. The door made a slight creak as it was pushed open. Harper looked around the room, realizing there was nowhere to hide. She had no choice but to hide behind the bedroom door, holding the flashlight high.
Outside the door, there was a faint sound of footsteps, magnified infinitely in the silence of the night. As the person approached, Harper’s heart grew stronger, and her hands trembled slightly.
She hoped that the person outside might be here just looking for some windfall and would leave upon seeing the deserted appearance of the place.
But her plea went unanswered, and she heard the doors next to her being opened one by one.
Finally, the terrifying footsteps arrived at the door of her bedroom.
By the moonlight, Harper clearly saw the doorknob gently turning. Her heart skipped a beat, and she tightened her grip on the flashlight, focusing her attention.
She knew she only had one chance, and if she failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.
The old wooden door creaked as it was slowly pushed open.
A worn and terrifying black face suddenly appeared in front of Harper.
Harper aimed fiercely at the face and hit it!
The flashlight fell to the ground.
Caught off guard, the person stumbled backward from the impact.
Harper took the opportunity to reach for the door, but before she could step out, a hand grabbed her ankle.
"Nice and fragrant."
This person was clearly mentally challenged but also incredibly strong. With one pull, Harper was pulled down onto the ground.
Luckily, she managed to support herself with her elbow to avoid hitting her belly.
The person stood up and dragged her feet, seemingly trying to pull her onto the bed.
Harper was terrified. She kicked hard, causing her shoe to fall off. Then, she forcefully pulled her foot back until the person's hand only grabbed a sock.
She immediately got up and ran out, trembling and screaming for help.
The man behind her realized what was happening and chased after her.
Suddenly, she collided with a wall and almost fell, but someone grabbed her just in time.
At that moment, Harper's only thought was that the man behind her had accomplices!
Harper opened her mouth and viciously bit down on the arm that was holding her. Soon, her mouth was filled with the strong smell of blood.
The person pinched her chin with two fingers and forced her to let go.
With a little force, he made her tilt her head backward, his tone indifferent. "What's wrong with you?"
Harper lifted her gaze and saw a sharply defined face, clean and clear in the moonlight.
She thought she was hallucinating and stared at him in a daze.
Francis's expression changed when he saw the tears on her small face.
"What's the matter?"
The familiar voice sounded in her ears, and Harper finally regained some composure. She anxiously grabbed the front of his shirt with her trembling hands and said with a quivering voice, "You're back."
After that, her tears burst out instantly.
She said he's back. Was she waiting for him?
Francis felt sorry for her.
He had originally planned to return to Northfield in the afternoon, but after driving twenty miles, he gave up.
Leaving Harper alone there wasn't a wise decision.
He drove back and parked not far from the house, watching as she turned off the lights.
In just a blink of an eye, he saw the door. He came up to check because he was worried.
Luckily, he came to check.
Francis pressed her head to his chest and glanced behind her, his brilliant eyes turning fierce for a moment.
He draped his suit over her, wrapping it tightly, and said, "Wait here for a moment."
Harper wrapped herself up and heard the sound of punches behind her, as well as the agonized screams of the deranged man.
At that moment, she felt incredibly safe.
Soon, police sirens blared as the neighbors heard her cries for help and reported it to the police.
The police came and explained, "This man has a criminal record and pretends to be a homeless man, specifically targeting beautiful girls by pretending to be deranged."
It was likely that he had targeted Harper when she was hanging the sheets at the front door that afternoon.
She took a look at the man after she heard the police’s words. A shiver ran down her spine.
When the man was being taken away, his face was swollen. He continued to stare at Harper with drool dripping down his chin, muttering the words "nice" and "fragrant."
Harper felt a chill throughout her body and instinctively felt nauseous.
Francis immediately carried her horizontally and placed her in the car. He then buckled her seatbelt. Harper grabbed his wrist with a pitiful look on her face and said, "I still have things inside."
Francis patted her hand, comforting her. "We can come back to get them and clean up the house tomorrow."
Harper didn't say anything, but with her eyes closed, she still trembled with lingering fear, her eyelashes fluttering lightly.
Francis found a hotel in town. Originally, he wanted to take her back to Northfield, but it was clear that she was very uneasy and uncomfortable at the moment.
He could only find a hotel nearby.
After entering the room, Francis frowned a bit at the facilities and surroundings, but there was nothing he could do. This was already the most luxurious hotel in town.
He instructed someone to replace all the things they might use with disposable ones.
Then, he filled the bathtub with water and asked Harper to take a bath.
But Harper didn't even dare to be alone in the bathroom. The recent fright still lingered in her mind, making it hard for her to think clearly.
She tugged at his sleeve and asked a question she would never say under normal circumstances.
"Can you accompany me while I take a bath?"
She was genuinely scared, her fingertips trembling slightly.
Francis turned around, his brows slightly furrowed. "Are you sure?"
Harper stood still, not nodding or shaking her head, but at this moment, no one else could make her feel as safe as Francis could.
She recalled the moment when he pressed her head against his chest. She felt his chest was warm.
It was so warm that she began to yearn for it.
A strange feeling surged through Harper, and she was deeply affected by his gaze. She wanted to retract her hand, but it was already too late.
His large palm easily enveloped her small hand, then he reached out and unbuttoned her collar, leaving nothing behind and carrying her into the bathtub.
As the warm water touched her skin, she grabbed his hand and said with a faint pink color on her face, "I can do it myself."
Francis pushed her hand away and said in a husky voice, "Just take a bath. Nothing else."
To prove his honesty and trustworthiness, he maintained a cold and calm look throughout, devoid of any desire.
He looked like a gentleman at the moment.
However, when he touched some part of her body, he seemed to be amateurish and unable to control his strength.
Harper, with watery eyes, dared not look at him but still voiced her protest.
"Enough."
Francis raised an eyebrow, directly picked her up, placed her in a prepared towel, dried her off, and put on a robe for her.
Then he went to the bathroom and took a cold shower.
When he came out again, Harper was already asleep, breathing evenly.
He was not sure if she was really asleep.
He lifted the blanket, reached his hand from behind to embrace her, and rested his chin on top of her head.
Feeling the tremor from the person beneath him, he curved his thin lips and softly said, "Harper, the child is mine, right?"
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