PULSE [H.S]

031

"Betrayal is the only truth that sticks." — Arthur Miller

I don't have the energy for this.

Harry's already out of his car and waiting for me as I pull into the parking garage. I sit in the car for a minute, trying to organize my thoughts and prepare myself for Harry's anger. I don't know if anything could truly prepare me for his rage.

His face isn't mad when I step out of the car, it's livid. Furious. Like he actually wants to kill me right now.

I'm the one who should be mad at him, not the other way around.

"What the actual fuck, Kizalyn?" he fumes, his eyes wide and wild as I approach him. He shouts, "You don't just disappear for 10 minutes on a job like that."

I run one of my hands over my eyes, already exhausted by the fight that hasn't even started yet. I don't want to argue with him. I don't even want to talk to him right now. I just want to get out of here and clear my head so I can figure out who has been lying to me and who I can trust.

When I look at him, at Harry, at the man I've come to trust with my life, I don't feel the normal safety blanket wrapped around me that I normally do when I am in his presence. The sense of security with him has been ripped away, leaving me bare. My trust in him has been shattered.

I say, "I told you that—"

"You told me bullshit," he nearly screams. The vein on his forehead pops out. He says, "What were you doing, huh? What were you doing when we all thought you had died? Sucking Eric's dick? Getting on your knees for him as we assumed the worst?"

Of course he's mad about Eric. He's mad that I found someone to help me get through that event, and probably mad that I flirted with him. Eric was my crutch today, but Harry's too much of an asshole to see that.

"Fuck off, Harry," I say as I walk away from him, looking for where his car is parked. He doesn't let me get far as he blocks my path with his arm. I groan, "I get that you're mad, but—"

He laughs, and it's a laugh I've never heard leave his body before. It's not humorous, it's not sarcastic, it's not cold. This laugh is mean and evil. It makes goosebumps appear on my skin because it sounds like Elias. It sounds like Elias's son.

He says, "Mad? You think I'm mad? I'm fucking livid. You're lucky you're a woman, or I would fucking—"

"You'd what? Hit me?" I yell, staring right at him now. I say, "Go ahead, Harry. Give me your best fucking shot. God knows I can take it."

I see him physically flinch at my words, and I almost feel bad for saying them. He paces, taking a few steps away from me and then coming back. He frantically runs his hands through his hair and yells out a few curse words.

He says, "What happened? Tell me the truth."

"I did tell you the truth." I lie through my teeth.

No one has been telling me the truth, so I don't owe him anything. If he is going to lie, so am I. I am sick of being lied to by the people I put my trust in. It is heartbreaking to go through this over and over again. I can't take it.

He glares at me, hissing, "Why can't you just fucking tell me? What are you hiding?"

I look at him, and he furiously looks back at me. His face is full of anger, but he looks stressed, too. I would say he looks worried, but it's become apparent to me today that he doesn't give a shit about me at all. Not if he let me stay with Aaron.

I debate telling him the truth just so I can confront him about everything Aaron told me, but I'm not ready for that. I just need to live in ignorance for a little longer. For the sake of my sanity, I can't deal with the truth right now.