Reasons

Chapter 28

Rylie's POV

I had to tell Harry about the text. I had to explain to him how wrong Hunter was. I needed to before he found the text himself. I should have just deleted it while I could.

I slowly pull myself up and blink the remaining sleep from my eyes. No one was in sight. I reach for my phone, but it wasn't on the coffee table.

I stand and stumble to Harry's room. I open the door to find drawers pulled out, clothes everything, and a broken guitar lying on the bed. It tore at my heart to see the damaged instrument. It shouldn't hurt as much as it did. The only conclusion I had for the destruction was that he found it.

My legs were now working properly. I head straight for the guitar and touch the broken strings. My guitar was right beside his. The strings were broken like Harry's, but it wasn't tore in half.

The tears slide down my face as I turn around. Harry is crouched in a huddle by his closest door. His arms hiding his face. I drop to my knees down beside him and rest my hands to his shoulders.

Harry jolts up and smiles. This smile wasn't the beautiful, cheeky grin I adored. It was malicious; it was even taunting and mocking me. "So, when were you planning on telling me Rylie? When were you planning on letting me in on the details?" he asked, laughing. He was in hysterics.

I bite down onto my lip. I had no way to tell him what was going on. He wouldn't believe me.

"Can you not speak? Have you lost your voice? That act you were pulling was quite funny. I am surprised you haven't left yet. You know, leave me for Hunter. It was a huge joke wasn't it?" he snaps. His voice was making me flinch.

Harry was now in my face. His breath was warm against my cheeks. "Well go on. Leave. Everyone else does," he mutters. He stands; his body was shaking with outrage.

I coaxed my voice to speak. However, no words formed. I was speechless.

"You should go," he whispers finally. His shaking hands reached up to run his hands through his curls. "Now," he adds hastily.

When I don't move, he points out the door. I reach for a few of my belongings. I am out the door before Harry finishes his order once again.

The salvaged items were meager and broken, just like me. My guitar had torn strings; my phone had cracks all the way up it. I managed to call my mother as I drove toward the house. My shaking hands barely maneuvered the car.

Harry's POV

I glared at the message and reread it. I needed to be sure I read it correctly. Sure enough, it was the same as before. I knead my hands into my forehead. I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing. By the time I had the last drawer out of my chest of drawers, I was shaking.

The drawers weren't enough. I needed more destruction; I wanted more distractions. I threw the clothes everywhere. My clothes and Rylie's clothes were all around the room in no time.

I still couldn't control myself. The anger was being replaced by slow, endless pain. I had no way to control the pain and hold on to the anger.

I gripped my guitar in my hands. Taking scissors, I snipped the threads in two. That was still not enough. I threw the guitar onto the ground and stepped on it. When it was in two pieces, I threw the two parts on the bed. I didn't give it a second thought when my hand rested on Rylie's guitar. I snipped her guitar's threads too. I was about to break it, but I drew back. No matter how hurt I was by what she had done, I would never break her guitar. It was hers. It was the only pure part of her I could hold on to now.

I stared at her phone and chunked it at the wall. It took several tries to even crack it. I didn't stop until it was nearly only fragments. The phone itself was still useable, but it was a broken device. It was broken.