*Harley's POV I can't imagine living without you — bloody liar! The music blares through the speakers as The Devils sing their latest single. Rock' n roll is what they are generally known for, although tonight they have peeled off a layer or two with some pop. They are a group of four guys with their signature long hair and tattoos. The lead vocalist is a handsome man with a nice trimmed beard and an enchanting voice. The bar is packed with people, more entering by each minute. The scent of sweat and drinks mix in the air, making me scrunch my nose when people bump into me on their way to get a closer look at the band. The bar counter has men and women ordering drinks and some teenagers showing their fake IDs to get hooked up on alcohol. Their antics frustrate the bartender and he mutters curses under his breath, making me throw him a glance of sympathy. Rose swings her hips in the crowd. She is dressed in a midnight blue dress, her hair tied in a high bun on top of her head. The g
*Xaveir' POVMason Holiday is dead. I will skin him alive.I pace across the hall, tapping my phone in the palm of my hand as I wait for them to come home. Mom is sitting on the couch, pinching her forehead between her fingers. Just like me, she is worried ever since we got the call from Rose about what happened at the bar.Jake Gallagher is getting fired. I gave him one job and he left without informing me. If I had known that he was gone, I would have gone there myself. It's my fault I left my girls in the care of some idiot."This can't be happening, son...How did it..." Mom sighs, tears forming in her eyes. I ignore her, my mind occupied by the doors through which they are supposed to arrive.&n
*Harley's POV A thousand bells ring inside my head at the same time when I try to open my eyes. Ray of light pierces my eyelids, hurting them, and I have to take deep breaths, hoping that the raging headache would come to a standstill. Pain jitters my nerves, cramps taking over my legs like I am a sixty-year-old woman on her deathbed.Last night — I remember it as clear as day until the moment when I was held by Mason and he threw me over his shoulder like a sack. Everything after that is a script of blurry images.My ribs hurt along with my chest, torturing me and making me groan in pain. I am somehow able to snap myself awake and find a glass of water with a pill kept on the bedside table. I quickly drown them both, the coldness of the water quenching my unspoken thirst.This is worse than any hangover. I am never picking up a drink again.The medicine starts its work quickly, calming my nerves down and lessening the throbbing in my head. When my wits clear a bit, I find the courag
*Xavier’s POVsome hours ago:After the call with the Senator ends, I am left with a pounding headache. I feel like I just imagined the whole conversation. This couldn't be happening.Why would someone want to kill Harley to hurt me? How is any of this related?I am a mess of emotions as I check on Harley, tugging the sheets over her body tightly, my hands shaking as I observe her innocence in her deep sleep. She is oblivious to all this and I can't imagine having to tell her that our arrangement is the reason she is in danger.I caress her cheekbones with my knuckles, feeling numb in my heart. We have gotten closer than I had expected. This feeling is strange; it is killing me.I jerk my hand from her face as if I have been scalded. Or perhaps it is the thought that I might burn her. Perhaps I already have. I want to keep her safe and that urge — to protect her from every cruel thing in the world instills dread in me, both for myself and her. Rubbing my face frantically in my nervou
*Harley’s POVThe room smells of dust and smoke. The curtains are drawn, darkening its appearance. It holds a bed covered in white sheets in the middle, an oak closet, a beanbag, and a guitar hanging on the wall — a guitar just like Xavier's. The color of the walls is a dull grey, with paint chipping out in some places.I haven't visited this room for years. None of us has, except for the maids who used to clean it once in a while. A while passed before Dad couldn't even handle the maids being in this room so he asked them to leave it alone. Two years of being locked up, yet, the room still smells like her. She is here without being here.I walk over to the closet in slow, steady steps, my feet dragging along the sandy dust on the floor. When I reach it, I touch the cold handles, pulling them. The doors open with a creak. A puff of dust hits my face and I have to cover my mouth as I look through his clothes.There are rows of dresses and a coat hanging at the top. The bottom has her B
*Xavier’s POV"You shouldn't have done that, idiot," Thea scowls over the phone. "You made me look even worse than before to her. You know how much she hates me—""She doesn't hate you, Willows," I cut her off in a sharp tone. Hearing the 'she' with 'hate' in the same sentence irks me.She hates me too now. Again. "Yeah, and the sun rises in the west..." I can practically see her rolling her eyes as she speaks. "When will you stop sacrificing your happiness for no reason? The important thing is that she said she will accept my son. Wasn't that enough for you?""I did what I had to do, Thea. She wasn't safe with me. I can't put her in danger anymore just because she's married to me.""Xavier, this isn't healthy," the annoying lady over the phone argues. "You need her. She needs you. You two are meant for each other.""Forget it," I grunt, playing with a button of my suit as I recline in my chair. "Tell me about him. How's he doing?""The painkillers are making him sleep all the time,"
*Harley’s POV The tap on glass makes me squeeze my pillow tightly. It is the third one in the last twenty seconds and the fact that it's not coming from the door frightens me more. I pull my knees up to my chest, curling like a squirrel under the blanket as I squeeze my eyes shut.What if it's him? The man with the knife. Should I shout for Dad?I should have listened to Mom and slept in her room instead of my own.There is another tap, louder this time, and I hear something crack. I think it's the glass of my window. I slowly peek my head out of the blanket, my eyes falling on the window and I see a small crack on the glass. I used to keep the windows open, but now I prefer to keep everything securely locked after the horrifying incident."HARLEY!"The shout makes me jump from the bed when I recognize the voice. It's deep, raspy, and forcibly loud. My heart beats fast, my feet hitting the floor as I run past the window and throw open the door to my balcony.Night wind nips at my ski
*Xaveir’s POVI fucked up. I fucked up bad.I rub my forehead between two fingers, massaging hard as I remember the events of last night in flashes. My leg aches for some reason and when I try hard to remember, I see visions of me climbing a tree.A fucking tree to Harley's balcony.What the hell is wrong with me? I literally behaved like a sixteen-year-old kid who just got his first hook-up. That wasn't me. But all I wanted to do then was reach Harley. Reach her no matter how far she was. My sanity was lost when I saw her face as she stood on the balcony. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and kiss her hard. I wanted to forget for some time that she couldn't be with me, that I had to maintain an act.I failed. I fucking failed.