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Chapter 18
Harlow
Thefrontdoorslammed shut with a roar.
I was curled up on the floor, perched on my knees as I stared down at the items from the flowerbed now scattered all over my floor.
Finn and Dex were so loud - I had heard their words plain as day, and Dex’s words had cut me deep.
“It means nothing!”
They replayed over and over, each time slicing me a little more as overwhelming pain filled me. I stupidly let myself believe that after sleeping with Dex a second time, that there was hope. But I was wrong.
Now all I had was a roommate who only saw me as stress relief, and a stalker who was getting closer and closer each day.
My trembling fingers pulled apart the paperwork which had been scrunched up. The first few pieces were documents with my name on it from Tronic’s. The next was newspaper clippings about my family.
The third was a personal note.
I TOLD YOU I WOULDN’T PLAY NICE. YOU LET HIM TOUCH YOU. YOU LET HIM TAKE WHAT’S MINE. HE’LL PAY. SO WILL YOU.
I gasped as I pushed the note away, a photo falling out. In the centre of the picture was me, and I wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t Dex like I had been expecting to see.
It was Bryson and I at the city dinner.
Now 8 months earlier
It was my mom.
Her cold, empty eyes just stared... no blinking, no movement. Nothing.
I pushed the hands off me, alarmed by the screams. Except I realized my screams were the loudest.
“Get off me!” I yelled, shoving whoever had my arm. I darted forward, throwing myself on the ground next to her. Sobs broke through my chest as I grabbed her hand.
“Mom? Mom, please wake up. Please. This can’t be happening. It can’t be...”
Frantic movement and sounds around me filled the air but I couldn’t hear anything. Nothing was registering in my mind except that my mom was laying here, her blood soaking into my black dress.
“Someone get her back! Get her out of here!”
Hands grabbed me again, pulling me backwards.
“No!” I screamed, my feet scrambling and hitting the ground as I fought helplessly against the person pulling me away.
My mom’s face got further away, and the tears blurred my vision, panicking me even more as I struggled to see. “NO!”
“Calm down,” came a gruff voice from behind me, the pressure on my arms and torso not easing up as they dragged me around the corner. “Drink this.”
A plastic bottle was shoved into my hand, my fingers crumpling the material. A hand enclosed around mine, bringing the bottle to my lips.
“It will make it better. Drink, Harlow.”
My body heaved with sobs and the hand pushed the top of the bottle into my mouth, tipping the liquid in. I coughed and spluttered as it went down my throat too quickly, an odd burn tickling my esophagus.
I shoved the bottle away with my hand, bending over as I coughed some more. “What the fuck is that?” I asked, my vision still blurred.
“I told you. It’s what’s going to make it all better.”
I tried to turn around to ask what the hell they meant. To take me back to my mom. But those words didn’t come out.
In fact... I’m not sure what did.
I don’t remember anything.
