The songs for this chapter are:

Hands of time- Rachel Diggs

 Over my head- The Fray

Demons- Imagine Dragons

Hardin's POV.

"Jack and coke," I bark  my order at the bartender. The bald man glares at me as he pulls an empty glass from the rack and fills it with ice. I was taking a piss when I saw Christian's rental car pulling out of the lot from the bathroom window. He must have came here looking for me. Too bad he didn't stay, we could have shared a father-son drink.

Fuck, this is all so fucked up.  

"Double actually," I modify the order.

"Got it," he sarcastically responds. My eyes find the old television on the wall and I read the captions on the bottom of the screen. The commercial is for an insurance company and the screen is covered by a giggling baby. Why they choose to put babies on every damn commercial, I will never know.

The bartender slides my drink across the wooden bar top without a word and I bring the glass to my lips, allowing my mind to take me away from here.

....

"Why did you bring home baby products?" I asked her. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and pulled her hair into a ponytail. I started to worry if she has an obsession with children, it sure as hell seemed like it.

It still does to this day, really.

"It's not a baby product," Tessa laughed. "It just has a baby and a father printed on  the package."

"I really don't understand the appeal here," I lifted the box of shaving products Tessa brought home for me, examining the chubby cheeks of a baby and wondered what the hell a baby has to do with a shaving kit.

"I don't really get it either but I'm sure putting a baby's image on it will help with sales," she said with a smile.

"Only for women buying their boyfriend's or husband's shit," I corrected her. No man in their right mind would grab that shit off the shelf.

"No, I'm sure fathers would buy it too." 

"Sure." I ripped open the box and laid the contents out in front of me. "A bowl?" I looked into the mirror to make eye contact with her.

"Yes, it's for the cream. You'll get a better shave if you use the brush," she stated.

"And how do you know that?" I raised a brow at her, hoping she didn't know this from experience with Noah.

"I looked it up,"

"Of course you did," I teased her, my jealousy disappearing, and she playfully kicked her feet at me. "Since you seem to be an expert in the art of shaving, come help me," I said. I had always just used a simple razor and cream but since she clearly put thought into this, I wouldn't deny her and frankly the idea of her shaving my face was a major fucking turn on.

Tessa smiled and stood to her feet, joining me in front of the sink. She picked up the tube of cream and filled the bowl with it then swirled the brush around to create a lather.

"Here," she smiled, handing me the brush.

"No, you do it." I placed the brush back into her hand and wrapped my hands around her waist. "Up you go," I said, lifting her onto the sink. I pushed her thighs apart and stood between them.

Her expression was cautious but concentrated as she dipped the brush into the lather and swiped it across my jaw.

"I don't really want to go anywhere tonight. I have so much work to do. You've been distracting me." I told her while grabbing a handful of her tits and squeezing gently. Her hand jerked, flinging some of the shaving cream onto my neck.

"Good thing the razor wasn't in your hand," I joked.

"Good thing," she mocked and picked up the brand new razor. "Are you sure you want me to do it? I'm nervous that I'll cut you on accident," she chewed at her full lips.

"Stop worrying, I'm sure you researched this part anyway," I said. She didn't say anything because she knew I was right. Her tongue peeked out in a childish way and I leaned forward to kiss her before she began. "But know that if you cut me, you should run," I laughed and she scowled again.

"Stay still please," her hand was slightly shaky but quickly grew steady as she gently dragged the razor across my jawline.

"You should just go without me," I said and closed my eyes. Tessa shaving my face was somehow comforting and surprisingly calming. I really didn't feel like going to my father's house for dinner but Tessa was going stir crazy being in the apartment all the time so when Karen called to invite us, she jumped at the request.

Ironic now that he isn't even my fucking father.

"If we stay in tonight then I want to reschedule and go this weekend. Will you have your work done by then?" She asked.

"I guess so," I complained.

"You can call and tell them then. I will start dinner after this and you can work," she tapped my top lip with her finger, signaling for me to tuck my lips in and carefully shaved around my mouth.

When she was finished I spoke, "You should drink the rest of that wine in the fridge because the cork has been off for days now. It's going to be sour soon."

"I.. I don't know," she hesitated. I knew why. I opened my eyes and she reached behind her back to turn the sink faucet on and wet a towel.

"Tess," I pressed my fingers under her chin, "you can drink in front of me. I'm not some struggling alcoholic," I said.

Look at me now, sitting in this bar with whiskey on my tongue. And this bar of all places I could have ended up.

"I know but I don't want it to be weird for you. I don't really need to be drinking so much wine anyway. If you aren't drinking, I don't need to."

"My problem isn't drinking. It's only when I'm pissed off and drink, that's when there is a problem."

"I know," she gulped. She did know.

What will she think now if she finds me here?

"I'm only an asshole when I drink to try to solve shit and lately there hasn't been anything to solve so I'm fine," she dragged the warm towel across my face, wiping the excess shaving cream away. "I don't want to be one of those assholes like my father who drink themselves stupid and endanger the people around me and since you happen to be about the only person I give a fuck about, I don't want to drink around you anymore." I tried to comfort her.

"I love you," she simply said.

"And I love you." I couldn't help but stare down at her body perched on the sink. She was wearing one of my white t-shirts, with nothing but black panties underneath. "I may have to keep you around now that you can properly shave my face. You cook, you clean.." I teased her. She swatted at me and rolled her eyes.

"And what do I get out of this deal?" She challenged. "You are messy, you only help me cook once a week, if that. You are grumpy in the morning-" I cut her off by  placing my hand between her legs and sliding her panties to the side. "I guess you are good at something," she grinned and I slid one finger inside of her.

"Only one thing?" I added another and she groaned, her head rolling back.

"Do you want another drink?" The bartender's hand thumps against the counter in front of me. I blink a few times and look at my now empty glass.

"Yeah," I hand the glass over, the memory fading as I wait for my refill. "Another double."

"Hardin Scott?" A woman's voice says. I turn my head to see the somewhat familiar face of Judy Welch, my mum's old friend. Well, ex-friend.

"Yeah," I nod, noting that age really hasn't been kind to her.

"Holy hell! It's been what.. six years? Seven? Are you here alone?" She puts her hand on my shoulder and lifts herself onto the bar stool next to me.

"Yeah around that, and yes I'm here alone. My mum won't be chasing after you," I remark. She has the face of a woman who has been unhappy and drank way too much in her lifetime. Her hair is the same white-blonde that it was when I was a teenager and her implants look too large for her small frame. I remember the first time she touched me. I felt like a man, fucking my mum's friend and now looking at her, I wouldn't fuck her with the bald bartender's dick.

"You have definitely grown up," she winks at me. My drink is placed in front of me and I gulp it down within seconds.

"Talkative as ever," she pats my shoulder again, calling out her drink order to the bartender. "Here to drown out your sorrows? Love problems?" She questions me.

"Neither," I roll my glass between my fingers, listening to the ice clink against the glass.

"Well I'm here to drown out a lot of both so let's have a shot," Judy smiles and orders the two of us a round of cheap whiskey.

Tessa's POV.

"Where could he be? I don't know my way around here and he isn't answering," I say to Kimberly. She just finished cursing Christian out over the phone.

"I honestly have no idea. Christian will be meeting us here any minute. It's still early. Hopefully he is just walking around to clear his head." She tries to comfort me but I know Hardin and I know that he doesn't just 'walk around to clear his head'.

"I don't know," I try to reach him again but I'm immediately met with his voicemail. He has turned his phone off completely.

"Do you think he would go to the wedding?" Kim looks at me. "You know, to cause a scene?"

I want to tell her that he wouldnt do that but with the weight of all of this pressing on him, it's certainly a possibilty.

"I can't believe I'm even suggesting this but  maybe you should come to the wedding after all. At least to make sure he doesnt't interupt. Plus, it's likely that he's trying to find you anyway and that's probably where he will look first."

The idea of Hardin showing up to the church and causing a scene makes me nauseous but selfishly I hope that he does go there, otherwise I will have almost no chance of finding him. The fact that he has turned his phone off worries me that he doesn't want to be found.

"I guess so. Maybe I should just stay outside?" I suggest. Kimberly nods and I watch her expression change when a sleek black rental pulls into the parking lot.

The car parks next to Kimberly's rental car and Christian steps out, dressed in a suit.

"Any word from him?" He asks as he approaches. He leans in to kiss Kimberly on her cheek, a gesture of habit I suppose, but she pulls away before his lips touch her skin.

"I'm sorry," I hear him whisper to her. She shakes her head and turns her attention to me. My heart aches for her, she doesn't deserve to be betrayed. I guess that's the thing about betrayal, it holds no prejudice and preys on those who never see it coming.

"Tessa is going to watch out for Hardin at the wedding," she begins to explain. "So while we are inside she will make sure nothing else interrupts this precious day," the venom in her tone is clear but she remains calm.

"We aren't going to that damn wedding. Not after all this shit," he tells his fiancé.

"Why not?"

"Because this," Vance gestures back and forth between the two of them, "and both of my sons are more important than any wedding, especially this one. I don't expect you to sit there with a smile in the same room as her," he says. Kimberly looks surprised but very pleased by his words.

I watch and keep quiet. Christian's referral to Hardin and Smith as his 'sons' for the first time rattled me. There are so many things I want to say to Christian, so many hateful words I could and desperately want to sling at him, but I know I shouldn't. It won't help anything and my focus needs to stay on Hardin's whereabouts and how he is handling the news.

"People will talk. Especially Sasha," Kimberly scowls.

"I don't give a shit about Sasha or Max, or anyone. Let them talk. We live in Seattle, not Hampstead." He reaches for her hands and she lets him gather them between his, "fixing my mistakes is the only priority I have right now," he tells her, his voice shaky.

"You shouldn't have let Hardin out of the car," Kimberly says, her hands still in Christian's.

"I couldn't exactly stop him. You know Hardin," he tells her and she nods in agreement.

"Where do you think he went? If he doesn't show up at the wedding, where should I look?" I finally speak.

"Well I just checked both of the bars that are open this early," he frowns. "Just in case." his expression softens when he looks at me. "I know I shouldn't have separated him from you while I told him. It was a huge mistake and now I haven't a clue where the hell he is and I know that you're what he needs right now."

Unable to think of anything remotely polite to say to him, I give him a simple nod and pull my phone from my pocket to try to call Hardin again. I know his phone won't be on but I try anyway.

"The wedding is starting in twenty minutes. I can drive you there now," Christian offers.

"I can drive her. You take Smith and go back to the hotel," Kimberly says.

"But-" he begins to argue but given the look on her face, he wisely chooses not to. "You'll come back to the hotel, won't you?" He asks her. His eyes are filled with fear.

"Yes," she sighs. "I'm not going to leave the country."

Relief replaces Christian's panic and he lets go of Kimberly's hands. "Be careful and call me if you need anything. You know the address of the church right?" He asks her.

"Yes. Give me the keys to your rental. Smith is already in mine," she holds out her hands. I silently applaud her strong demeanor. I would be a mess if I were her. I am a mess now, on the inside.

Less than ten minutes later Kimberly drops me off in front of a small church. Most of the guests have already went inside, only a few stragglers still stand on the steps leading to the entrance. I take a seat on a bench outside and watch the streets for any sign of Hardin.

From where I am sitting I can hear the music from inside of the church. I can picture Anne in her wedding gown, walking down the aisle to meet her groom. The Anne in my mind doesn't coincide with the mother who lies about the father of her only son.

The steps empty and all the guests go inside to watch Anne and Robin wed. Minutes tick by and I can hear nearly every sound coming from inside the small church. Over an hour later, the guests cheer as the bride and groom are announced husband and wife, I take that as my cue to leave. I don't know where I will go but I can't just sit here and wait. Anne will be exiting the church soon and the last thing I need is an awkward run-in with the new bride.

I stand to my feet and begin walking toward the way we arrived, I think at least. I don't remember exactly but I hope I'm correct. If not, I hope that I run into Hardin soon because I have nowhere to go. I pull out my phone again and redial him, his phone is still off. My battery is less than half charged but I don't want to power it off in case Hardin tries to call me.

The sun is setting in the London sky as I continue my search. I should have asked Kimberly to borrow one of their rental cars but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time and she has other things to worry about right now. Hardin's rental car is still parked at Gabriel's but I don't have a spare key.

The beauty and grace of Hampstead diminishes with each step I take into the other side of town. My feet are aching and the spring air is growing colder as the sun sets. I shouldn't have worn this dress or these stupid shoes. If I would have known how today was going to turn out, I would have worn workout clothes and sneakers. In the future, if I ever leave town with Hardin again, that will be my standard uniform.

I can't tell if my mind is playing tricks on me or if this street is actually familiar. It's lined with small houses much like I remember Anne's but I was asleep when Hardin drove down it upon our arrival here and I don't trust my mind right now. I'm thankful that the streets are mostly empty and all the residents seem to be inside for the night. Otherwise, I would be more fearful walking the streets of London in the dark, alone. I am still afraid but my worry for Hardin overpowers my worry for myself.

I nearly burst into tears of relief when I see Anne's house in the short distance. It's dark now but the streetlamps are on now and I'm positive it is her house. I don't know if Hardin will be there but I pray that if he isn't, the door is unlocked so I can sit down and have some water. I have been walking aimlessly around block after block for hours. I'm lucky that I ended up on the only street in this village that could be of any use to me.

A tattered light-up sign in the shape of a beer distracts me as I approach Anne's house. The small bar is set in between a house and an alley. A chill runs through me. This is where he is, I know it.

When I pull open the iron door, I'm immediately further embarrassed by my attire. I look like a complete madwoman walking into this type of bar in a dress and barefoot, my shoes in my hands. I gave up on wearing them an hour ago. I drop my heels onto the floor and slide my feet back into them, wincing at the pain of the straps rubbing against the raw patches of skin on my ankles.

The bar isn't very crowded, especially for the size of the place. It doesn't take me long to scan the room and find Hardin sitting at the bar with a glass raised to his mouth. My heart plummets to the floor and I take a deep breath before approaching him.  

"Hardin," I tap on his shoulder. He swivels the bar stool around to face me and my stomach turns at the sight in front of me. Hardin's eyes are blood shot, deep red lines mapping across so fiercely that the white has nearly disappeared. His cheeks are flushed and the smell of liquor is so heavy that I can taste it. My palms begin to sweat and my mouth goes dry.

"Look who it is," he slurs. The glass in his hand is nearly empty and I cringe at the sight of three empty shot glasses in front of him. "How'd you find me anyway?" He tilts his head back and gulps down the rest of the brown liquor.

"Another," Hardin calls to the man behind the bar.

"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing that he isn't but not knowing how I should handle him until I can gauge his mood and how much alcohol he has consumed.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Have a seat. Want a drink?" I shake my head and he pulls out the stool next to him and pats the seat. I glance around the small bar before climbing up the stool.

"So how'd you find me?" He asks again. I'm confused and put on edge by his behavior. He's clearly drunk but that's not what is bothering me, it's the eerie calm behind his voice. I've heard it before and it never ends well.

"I've been walking around for hours and I recognized your mum's house across the street so I knew.. well I knew I should look here," I shiver at the reminder of Hardin's stories of Ken spending night after night at this exact bar.

"My little detective," Hardin softly says while raising hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. I don't flinch or pull away, despite the growing anxiety bubbling inside of me.

"Will you come with me? I want to go back to that hotel for the night and then we can leave in the morning," I try to persuade him just as the bartender brings his drink.

"Not yet."

"Please Hardin." I meet his bloodshot eyes, " I'm so tired and I know you are too." I try to use my weakness against him without bringing up Christian or Ken. "My feet are killing me and I've missed you," I lean closer to him. I know him well enough to know that if I start rambling about anything too heavy, he will lose it and this calmness will evaporate in seconds.

"Have a drink. My friend is here, she will buy you a shot." He waves his hand at the empty shot glasses on the bar.

"Friend?" My stomach drops.

"An old friend of the family," he says and nods his head toward a woman emerging from the  bathroom. She appears to be in her late thirties, early forties, and has bleached, blonde hair. I'm relieved that she isn't a young woman since it appears that Hardin has been drinking with her for a while now.

"I really think we should go." I press and reach for his hand. He jerks away.

"Judith, this is Theresa," he introduces me to the woman.

"Judy," she corrects him at the same time that I say, "Tessa,"

"Nice to meet you," I force a smile and turn back to Hardin. "Please," I beg again.

"Judy knew that my mum was a whore," Hardin says, the smell of whiskey bombards my senses again.

"I didn't say that," the woman laughs. She's dressed too young for her age. Her top is low cut and her flared jeans are too tight.

"She did say that. My mum hates Judy," Hardin smiles.

"Wonder why," the woman returns his smile and I feel as if I'm on the outside of a private joke between them.

"Why?" I ask without thinking.

Hardin gives her a warning glare and waves his hand, dismissing my question. It takes everything in me not to knock him from the bar stool. If I wasn't aware that  he is only masking his pain, I would do just that.

"Long story doll. Anyway, you look like you could use some tequila." The woman waves for the bartender.

"No, I'm okay." I decline. The last thing I want is a drink.

"Lighten up, baby," Hardin leans closer to me. "You aren't the one who just found out his entire life is a fucking lie so lighten up and have a drink with me," my heart aches for him but drinking isn't the answer. I need to get him out of here. Now.

"Do you prefer your margaritas frozen or on the rocks? This isn't no fancy place so you don't have many choices," Judy tells me.

"I said I didn't want a fucking drink," I snap at her. Her eyes widen but she recovers quickly. I'm almost as surprised by my outburst as she is.

I hear Hardin chuckle next to me but I keep my eyes on the woman.

"Okay then. Someone needs to relax," she says, digging her hands in her purse. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the oversized bag.

"Smoke?" she asks Hardin. I look at him and he nods. Judy reaches behind me to hand him the lit cigarette from her mouth. Who the hell is this woman?

The disgusting stick is placed between Hardin's lips and he takes a puff. Tendrils of smoke swirl between us and I cover my mouth and nose. "Since when do you smoke?" I glare at him.

"I've always smoked. Just not since I moved to Pullman." He takes another drag. The glowing red fire at the end of the cigarette taunts me and I reach over and snatch it from Hardin's mouth and drop it into his half-full glass.

"What the fuck?" He raises his voice and stares down at his ruined drink.

"We are leaving. Now." I step down from the bar stool, grabbing ahold of Hardin's sleeve and pulling at him.

"No we aren't," he wrestles away from my grip and attempts to get the bartender's attention.

"He doesn't want to leave," Judy chimes in. My anger is boiling and honestly this woman is just pissing me off.

"I don't remember asking you. Mind your own business and find a new drinking partner because we are leaving," I shout at her.

She looks at Hardin, expecting him to defend her and the sick history between the two of them dawns on me. This isn't the way a "friend of the family" would behave with the son of her friend who is half her age.

"I said I don't want to leave," Hardin slurs again.

I have pulled out all the stops here and he isn't listening. My last option is to play on his jealousy, a low blow, especially in the state he is in but he hasn't left me another choice.

"Well if you won't take me back to the hotel, I will have to find someone else to do it." I search the bar and my eyes rest on the youngest man in sight. I give Hardin a few seconds to respond and when he doesn't, I begin walking toward the group of young men.

"Hell no you won't," Hardin's hand is around my arm in mere seconds.

"Then take me back,"

"I'm wasted." He says.

"I know. We can call a cab to take us to Gabriel's and I'll drive the rental to the hotel."

"You've got it all figured out, don't you?" He  sarcastically mumbles.

"No, but staying here isn't doing a bit of good so either you go pay for your drinks and take me out of here or I will leave with someone else."

He releases his light grip on my arm but steps closer to me, "don't threaten me. I could just as easily leave with someone else," he says, only inches from my face. A sting of jealousy pains me but I ignore it.

"Go ahead. Go home with Judy then. I know you slept with her before. I can tell." I keep my back straight and my voice steady as I challenge him. "Well? What's it going to be?" I raise my brow.

"Damn it," he grumbles and half stumbles back to the bar to pay for his drinks. He

"Judy says bye," Hardin says to me as we exit the bar.

"Don't talk to me about her." I snap at him.

"Are you jealous, Theresa?" He slurs, wrapping his arm around me. "Fuck, I hate this place, this bar, that house," he gestures toward the small house across the street. "Oh! You want to know something funny, Vance lived there," he points to the brick house directly next to the bar. A dim light is on upstairs and a car is parked in the driveway.

"I wonder what he was doing the night that those men came into our fucking house," Hardin's eyes scan the ground and he bends down. Before I realize what is happening, his arm is raised behind his head, a brick in his hand.

"Hardin no!" I yell and grab his arm. The brick falls to the ground and skids across the concrete.

"Fuck this," he tries to reach for it but I stand in front of him. "Fuck all of this! Fuck this street! Fuck this bar and that fucking house! Fuck everyone," he stumbles again and walks into the street. "If you won't let me destroy that house.." his voice trails off and I pull my shoes from my feet and follow him across the street and into the front yard of his childhood home.

(I can't believe how close to the end we are!! eekk! Please don't forget to vote! Most of you don't :( and it only takes a second to do it so please do! I know I can't be ranked but still, it means a lot when you take a second to vote since I take hours to write each chapter. Please:) I love you all! How is your week going? It's halfway over already! )