Chapter Thirty-Seven

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*Not edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 37– They have online chatrooms for that:

"You need to tell someone, Harlow. He knows your name!"

"Will you calm down, for fucks sake?" I huff, sitting at the edge of my bed as Nine paces before me with worry. "It's not that much of a big deal, Nine."

"Not a big deal?" She repeats in exasperation, stopping in her tracks to gape at me. "Not a big deal! Harlow, his name was on the paper that Ricky gave you. You do know what that means, right?"

I sigh out a small breath and look at the figment of my imagination that is in the form of Nine. She has an eyebrow cocked at me as she waits for a reply. I drag my tongue across my top lip before biting down on my bottom one in thought. She huffs.

"Fine, if you're not going to answer, I will. It means, Kody Lawrence, that the same people that put Lilah in the hospital can now put a face to your name. Do you think that's a good thing? Because I don't."

"Lose the attitude, Nine," I roll my eyes. "You're being overdramatic."

"Uh, I actually feel like I'm being the appropriate amount of dramatic, to be honest," she denies as she slumps down to the floor, her legs crossed and back straight, arms folded across her chest. "These people are dangerous, Harlow. And I know you know that too, because if not you would've gone straight after Mac but you didn't." I relax my shoulders and unclench my jaw as I watch her speak, her voice somewhat calming despite her angry tone. "And why didn't you? Because you knew that if you did, you'd have a much bigger problem on your hands."

"I'm not scared of them," I tell her as I pull off my jumper and chuck it next to me on the bed, beginning to get used to the warmth of the house. Jace is really running up our gas bill.

"I'm not saying you're scared, I'm saying you're smart. But as smart as you are, Harlow, you've dug yourself a massive hole," she stresses with vigour. "And I don't see you getting yourself out of this alone."

        "Well who do you expect me to tell, Nine?" I give her a look, and just as she's going to reply with the one name I know is about to come out of her mouth, I cut her off. "Under no circumstances am I telling Jace, so don't even think about it," I tell her bluntly, causing her to purse her chapped lips. "Exactly."

        We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us lost in our own thoughts, though Nine's can't be too different from mine. I'm halfway through thinking about ordering some pizza when she finally speaks up, her voice tender.

       "Ricky?"

        I look at her as I near my desk to pick up my phone. "I'm not telling that smooth-brained, good for nothing, annoying—."

        "No, Harlow. I mean..." she hesitates as she chews on her bottom lip, or at least what's left of it. Losing patience with her, I snap at her to spit it out. "Do you think— I don't know... Do you think that, maybe, Ricky had something to do with them knowing your name?"

        Immediately, I shake my head, not even entertaining the thought. "No, I was just with him, I would've known if something was up. And besides, he isn't the only one that knows me, Nine. I'm almost one-hundred percent positive Mac's put a hit out on me."

        "Don't say stuff like that," she chastises with a frown. I shrug my shoulders, unbothered. "Do you trust him? Ricky, I mean," she clarifies, leaning forward like her life depends on my answer.

        I rest against my desk and fold my arms, my phone in my right hand as I stare down at her. "Of course I don't," I say, my face unable to hide the disgust the question brings.

        "But you want to," she states as if it's a well known fact, her eyes never once leaving mine.

        I scoff, wondering if she can even hear half of the things she says sometimes. Although, come to think of it, probably not; her ears are barely there. "Don't be silly. I don't trust anyone but Jace."

        She pushes herself up from the floor, dusting herself off; an action I've always found odd when she does it. "And Dakota?"

        "No," I grimace. "Fuck that smooth-brained, good for nothing, annoying—."

        "I get it, they all have smooth brains and are annoying," she cuts me off. "But I still think you would like to trust them. And I also think it makes you sad that you don't— that you can't."

        "I think you're talking shit and I don't care what you say," I retort, turning my phone on and scrolling through my contact list— the only number I decided to save was the pizza place. "Now, do you want anything?" I ask without thought, pursing my lips once I realise. Nine laughs dryly, as if I had done it on purpose, but I genuinely hadn't. Sometimes I forget she's not really here.

"Actually, yes. I do want something." I look at her boredly, knowing what's to come. "I want you to tell someone that Mac and his flock of crazies are after you and are going to cut you up and feed you to their fighters for extra protein."

"That's not on the menu, I'm afraid. Would you like something else instead?" I ask sarcastically.

Nine stomps her broken foot, and while she clearly can't feel it, I subconsciously wonder why she didn't stomp the one that doesn't seem to be bent at an odd angle. "You're so frustrating, Harlow! Just—," she takes a breath, calming herself down. "For one second— For one fucking second, can you just listen to me?" She has my attention as soon as she curses. She was never a fan of foul language. "I know you care very little about your life, One, okay? I know. But think about Jace. Do you think that he'd just be completely unaffected if something were to happen to you? No, of course not. He'd flip heaven and earth for you, and you know it. If something happens to you because of them, he won't quit until they're all dead. And they'll kill him, Harlow," she tells me with a soft whisper. "He wasn't raised like you were. God love him, but he just wasn't raised with your strength, your resilience. They'll hurt him, One," she frowns sadly.

It's in this moment I realise I hate her.

        I hate her so much I can feel my blood getting hotter as it boils. I hate that she knows right where to fucking hit me. If her and Jace have anything in common, it's their way of manipulating me.

I hate them both.

"This isn't just some childish feud with a few people claiming to be something their not, Harlow. These people are dangerous— really dangerous. They have people from the facility working for them as their freaking bodyguards, for Christ's sake!" She continues, her expression pained. "I'm asking you as my friend, Harlow, if I ever meant anything to you at any point, you need to tell someone. You need to let them help you."

I clench and unclench my jaw as I stare at her blankly, masking the anger I have for her right now.

"Harlow—."

"I can't drag anymore people into my mess, Nine. I won't."

"But this isn't your mess!" She yells. "This has nothing to do with you. You made it your problem, One! And I get it, fine, you wanted to help them. But now you're taking everything on by yourself when there's a whole group of people ready to help you at any given moment..." She pauses, almost as if she's letting the words sink in. "Let them."

        "I'm going to order some pizza now, and as soon as I get off the phone, we're going to pretend this conversation never happened, ¿Vale?" I tell her firmly, my tone of voice leaving no room for any objections. "I'll do whatever I see fit, okay? And if I want to tell somebody, I will. But that is none of your concern. Now piss off."

___

It started with a knock on the door. The forty five minute waiting time that the pizza parlour had given me loured me into a false sense of trust that, when the doorbell rang, it was going to be them standing there with my double pepperoni pizza, garlic bread and chicken strips in hand.

But alas, it was not.

I opened the door to receive and pay for my food delivery, but instead was met with the wide eyes of Dakota fucking Black, the bane of my fucking existence.

So, here I now stand, after one whole minute of just blankly staring at him, even more pissed off than I had been before.

        I feel like it's been forever since I last saw his ugly face, though in reality it's only been... fuck knows, I haven't been keeping track of time, lately; too busy spending time held up in my room. But, it doesn't really matter, because while it feels like forever, I still think it's too soon.

        He looks like shit, as to be expected, but this time he also looks overly exhausted. Something in my mind pushes me to invite him in and find out what's wrong, but I brush it off and stand my ground with folded arms and a bored stare.

"I could do this all day, but quite frankly, I don't want to. So I'll cave... What do you want, Dakota?"

        "To talk," he replies, his blonde hair blowing in the light breeze that the porch can't block. He wears nothing but a white shirt with short sleeves and a pair of dark, slim-fit jeans, yet he doesn't seem to be the least bit bothered by the wind around us.

        "They have online chat rooms for that," I let him know.

        He rolls his eyes, his biceps flexing subconsciously. I draw my eyes away from his tattooed skin, stoping myself from tracing the ridge of the vein underneath the ink with my eyes. I kick myself for being so easily distracted.

        "I want to talk to you, Kody. Not some forty-year old divorcee who constantly whines about being left with the kids while her husband was able to keep the dog," he states nonchalantly, like the fact he was overly specific isn't at all strange. "Can you please just give me a moment?"

        "For what?"

        He looks a little uncomfortable as he shifts on his feet, his blue eyes not meeting mine. "To apologise. I've come across like a real fucking dick lately and I want to make things right between us. So... will you let me?"

        I mull it over for a while. "And if I say no?"

        He shrugs, almost as if he's unfazed by my question, which I find rather odd. Normally he's begging me to not say no. "Then that's your choice..." he looks sincere for a second before he decides to continue. "But I guess I'm just going to have to remind you of that time you kissed me in the pa—."

        "Okay, you have five minutes," I cut him off eagerly, pushing him away as I step out from mine and Jace's shared house, closing the door behind me with a slam. Dakota lets out a quiet chuckle, but I'm able to hear it as I pass him.

        I help myself to the front seat of his car and close the door behind me without waiting for him to get in. My plan was to sit in the car outside of the house while Dakota gets on with his little speech, before heading back inside and slitting my throat while cleansing myself of this apology. However, Dakota seems to have a different idea as he starts the engine and pulls off from the sidewalk.

        "Ah-ah!" He interrupts my question before I'm able to ask it. "It doesn't matter where we're going, just trust me."

Dakota doesn't seem to care no matter how many times I remind him that I have a food on the way, and instead carries on down the familiar road leading up to the outskirts of the woods his little make-shift tree hut resides in.

I huff and puff every second of the way there, even as we tread passed the wet sticks and soggy leaves on the ground as we walk through the woodlands. I grumble my distaste at his need to overdo everything, telling him how much easier this would have been had we just stayed parked outside the house.

I wonder why they haven't called me about my pizza yet? Unless Jace took it... fucking asshole.

"You coming up?" Dakota grabs my attention as he peers down at me from halfway up the tree. I glare up at him but begin my ascent up the trunk anyway. He keeps stopping mid-climb to push his ass into my face, causing me to punch the back of his leg multiple times. He laughs but I don't find it funny in the least. His playfulness shows his immaturity.

"Will you just get on with it?" I shout at him, pinching the skin of his calf. His leg flinches and I hear a small hiss of air escape his lips.

"Lighten up, Kodes," he tells me, and while I can't see his face, I know he says it with a smile and most likely an eye roll.

I hate that I know that.

Once we're finally on the small ledge, Dakota asks me to wait outside for a few minutes. I normally would have told him to go fuck himself, but after the long ass day I've had that seems to be never-ending, I decide I can't be assed to cause an argument.

        I lean against the outside of the tree house and fold my arms as I watch the sky above me, the grey clouds floating and changing as the seconds pass. I cross my arms and try to strain my hearing to see if I can find any clue as to what Dakota is doing in there, but all I hear is the creaking of floorboards as he moves.

"Alright," he finally pokes his head out through the gap between the wooden board and the wall moments later, his teeth showing in a wide smile. "You can come in."

And I do.

I walk into the familiar hut, minding my head as I duck in through the hole of the entrance. I'm so used to the cold, dark interior of Dakota's tree house that I don't expect the space to be lit up with candles and hanging fairy lights that dangle from the ceiling.

On the bed— the perfectly made bed with clean bedsheets and fluffy cushions— lays a small checkered blanket; green, blue and white. A limited amount of food is set out on top, mainly consisting of sandwiches and chips, a few chocolate bars and a massive bag of candy. It looks like a nicpic or whatever it's called.

"Oh Em Gee, Harlow. This is thee cutest!" Nine appears by the bed, checking out all the junk food. She looks up at me from her kneeled position on the floor and smiles widely with glee, Dakota unknowingly standing a foot or so behind her. "He must really like you," she says. "He got you the expensive bag of chips!"

Once I'm done speechlessly staring at the small set up, ignoring Nine's childish excitement, I look towards Dakota who stands a little sheepishly by the corner of the room nearest the bed. He clears his throat and looks down at Nine, though he see's nothing but a blank space.

"I... uh," he swallows thickly. "I know you don't like apologies, though I'm not really sure why," he meets my eyes with his, looking shy as fuck. "Maybe it's because you just don't trust words, or maybe it's because people always tell you sorry and then keep doing the same shit they were apologising for. Or it might just be because you don't believe that one small, shitty word can make up for something that hurt you." He shakes his head, cutting his mumbling off. "I really don't know, but I'm hoping that this and everything else I do to make up for it really does show you that I am really sorry. For everything," he stresses.

I take in his words, for once not ignoring whatever it is he's saying. He is right, I don't like apologies; never have. They make me angry, but I never really know why. I think they're pointless, I think they're overused and meaningless. But I don't know why they piss me off as much as they do.

"Are you going to uh... say something?" He chuckles nervously, rubbing at his neck where I notice he has a new tattoo. I forget I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks.

"Yeah, Harlow. Are you going to say anything?" Nine queries, a no-nonsense tone to her voice, almost threatening me to open my mouth and speak.

There's a turmoil going on in my mind as I stare soundlessly at the small lit up area that smells of apples, a war between what I know and what I want happening inside me.

I know I shouldn't stay, that nothing good comes of making attachments. Jace is a prime example of that; we formed a small alliance and now he's eating all the fucking food in the fridge, running up a gas bill and buying flatscreen TV's when flatscreen TV's don't need to be bought.

But I want to stay. Something in me, something that's exhausted and just flat-out tired, wants to just stay here in this small, falling-apart hut with one of the most annoying human beings I've ever met to eat some grocery-store sandwiches and chips.

I want to stay.

"Kody?"

I look up at Dakota, his nervous demeanour changed to one of worry. "Do any of the sandwiches have cheese in them?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head quickly. "I promise they don't. I made sure to get no cheese because I know you don't—."

"I'll stay."

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I'm not sure if I'm making the right decision, but when Dakota's face lights up and he stops himself from cheering, I know my decision couldn't have been that bad.

        "I'll stay."

___

Author's Note

Little bit of a filler chapter, but I know some of you guys wanted a Kody and Dakota reunion, so here you have it.

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