Priory // h.s.

chapter forty-four

Harry doesn't ditch me after all. Fifteen minutes later, he turns up at my door, suitcase in hand, dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie. His eyes are filled with anguish that vanishes, although only momentarily, when I open the door. 

"Hey," he says, scuffing his feet and refusing to meet my eyes. "I told Mr. Billings what happened and got a couple days' leave, though I'm sure he still hates my guts."

I don't say anything. I wrap my arms around him and hug him as tightly as I dare to, pillowing my cheek against his muscular chest and breathing in his familiar scent. Then I force myself to get a grip; I should be comforting him, not the other way around.

He takes a deep breath. "If my mom..."

If his mom dies, he'll have no one left. Well, except for Gerald. "Don't say anything. I get it. Gerald's waiting downstairs."

He frowns. "Ugh. Gerald. Don't remind me. A plane flight with that douchebag, on his stupid private jet?"

I hesitate. "Harry, what if he- what if it's a set-up?"

Harry's eyes snap to me. He turns away, like the look in my eyes is more than he can bear. "I have to go, Amber," he whispers. "If it's not a trap, I'll never forgive myself for not going."

I nearly cry at how strong he's being, or trying to be; he has that odd way of pretending everything is all right. But I can see the moisture causing his eyes to glisten in the light, and see the way his hands are clenched into fists. He's seconds from falling apart.

So I shove him out the door, because there's no time for that. He'll never forgive himself if he doesn't make it to see his mother on time. "Go. And don't rip your brother to shreds." I put my hand on his arm. "Your mom will be waiting for you." I hope to God that it's true. If Harry is walking into a trap set by Gerald, I have no clue what I can do to save him.

Swallowing, he takes a hesitant step towards me, then falters.

Sensing his uncharacteristic--but endearing--shyness, I close the gap between us and brush my lips to his cheek in a feathery kiss. "I'll miss you," I whisper.

Without giving him a chance to reply, I step back into my apartment and shut the door behind me.

 —

"Damn. And you're saying I missed all of this because I was piss-drunk and snoring?" Jillian says the next morning as I tell her everything that happened.

"Yeah." I give a forced laugh. "Count yourself lucky. It wasn't the most fun experience I've ever had in my life."

Sympathetically, she leans forward and pats me on the hand. "I'm sorry, Amber. Really sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. It's Harry I'm worried about," I mumble softly.

She taps her chin thoughtfully. "I may have been drunk last night, but I did mean what I said to you, Amber."

I shift uncomfortably. "What?"

"You know exactly what," she says, and leaves it at that. 

Shaking my head, I stand up and reach for my purse. "We should get to work," I say shortly.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Jillian stands up. "Anything new about Kenneth?"

"No," I say regretfully.

The resulting disappointment on her face crushes me. I have to do something; I can't watch her suffer like this.

If Harry were here, the two of us could come up with a plan.