Little Bird [-hs]

017 - these chains

HARRY

The ring pierces through the flimsy pocket and into my leg. When I turned sixteen I carved my name into a man's leg. He's probably still alive, walking around with HARRY scarred into his leg. I don't remember his face.

She's a bird. A bird's eye.

I hate how she smiled at me on the roof, like she saw me.

I slip through the alley shadows, darting into the park. The trees sweep over a mile of hills and ponds. In the center he'll be waiting at the drop point. I start down the cobbled path.

I hate how she cupped my face, how I crumbled into it. I hate how much I loved it. She's a weakness.

I storm up the hill. His silhouette is at the top near a large tree. He's alone, I knew he would be. He frowns. He's upset that I didn't bring her with me, he wants to play with his food.

"I was hoping you'd have a friend."

I climb faster. I'm on top of him. His body thuds, and he's pinned to the tree.

"There's no need for theatrics." He smiles.

"Did you know?" I ask. Fuck. I sound desperate.

He pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. He wasn't expecting that question, or maybe he was. I'm getting confused. There's too much emotion in my head, screaming.

Focus.

His eyes shine, head pressed hard against the tree trunk. And he nods.

"About Ava?" My voice is weak and thin.

"I assumed."

I let go. He falls from the trunk. I turn around and stare at the trees at the bottom of the hill. He assumed. I said her name. He made me say it.

"Do you have it?"

I pull the ring from my pocket. He takes it.

"How'd it go?"

"Maddie called her Salem."

"And how'd she say it?"

"I didn't ask."

There's eight trees clustered at the bottom of the hill. One of them is a weeping willow. The grass is black. Why does it matter how Maddie said the name? What's the angle? She's always been his little experiment. Selecting Naomi was a carefully deliberate decision.

He looks the diamond over. "That's alright. We'll find out in the morning. What'd you do with her?"

There shouldn't be a park here. This is the city. It's a trick. And I hate that it's making me think of her; she's like a park in the city. I almost cringe at myself. The attempt at any poetic thought is fruitless against her character. He asked me what I did with her. I blink, lazy and unfocused. "Does it matter?"

Idiotic. Never answer Grayson's question with a question. She's a constant pestering thought, distracting me in every conversation. She's a weakness.

I clear my throat. "She went home."

He watches me from behind the diamond. "You gave her an alibi."

"I did." I slip my hands into my pockets.

His eyes gleam. "Remember how you stepped between us tonight?" He asks and pockets the ring. I don't respond, and he grins. "Feeling protective?"

He was waiting to pull that card. I shouldn't have stepped between them, but I told her nothing was going to happen, and something was about to happen. She was scared. She's always got her emotions on her face, even when she thinks she doesn't. It's not just her. Everyone forgets to hide the fear in their eyes.