Earth (Complete)

Thirty one

Betrayal: an indescribable feeling of pain mixed with that little extra something I couldn't quite decipher. I thought about the not so very long conversation I had with my father last night before I went to lay sleeplessly in bed.

"How much?" I asked him. "How much did they take?"

A long silence passed between us before he said, "Half a mil."

Knowing the amount I had resting on my back only made the anger grow, like a little monster finally deciding to grow up into a freak of nature. I felt absolutely ridiculous, falling for his little scheme. But even more so, my heart ached like never before because, I let it happen.

He sat on a park bench, twirling the metal band around his thumb, waiting for me. I stormed over to him and stopped right before him. The smile he wore wiped clean off his face as soon as he took in mine and I threw the bag at his feet.

He let out a breath, looking at the bag, and licked his lips, "You looked in the bag."

"I did." I said calmly. "And I must say, Sawyer, you're one hell of a liar."

He sighed and stood. "Jane... it-it's not what it looks like–"

"Then please explain it to me!" I snapped, not being able to keep my cool any longer. "Please explain to me why the fuck half my dad's wallet is in your fucking bag!"

People around were beginning to stare already, passerby's looked a little longer than necessary. But I could care less. I needed to know why he did this.

"Jane, look I – I was going to give back the money. I swear–"

"Oh my god." I shook my head in disbelief. "I can't believe this." He stood wordlessly before me. My chest ached like I was physically stabbed and I strived for the strength to keep the tears from rolling. But as soon as the words left my mouth, I couldn't. "So I guess it was more, huh." He frowned. "This whole thing. Not only was I a hole for your dick, but I was coin for your piggy bank. Right?"

"Fuck, Jane!" he cursed, running a hand through his hair. "You know it's not like that. I mean, you know how I feel about you. I lov–"

"Don't say it! Don't you dare!" I was shaking with fury by now. How could he do this to me? In a rush, I bent down and opened the bag, ripping out the little extra something that put the cherry on the cake. "And what the fuck is this, huh?" I demanded, pulling out a red penguin suit the waiters wore in the square, the badge with his name on it the bartenders wear in the club in the east and the other waiters outfit I saw him in the day of the Suitors Ceremony. "I suppose these aren't yours?" I shoved them at him. He breathed though his own anger bubbling up and the clothes fell to the ground. "Lying about that too, huh?"

"Yes. Okay, I lied. Happy?" he snapped. "I lied because–" he stopped.

"Because? Because what?" I pressed.

"Because – fuck!" he wiped his face with both hands, frustrated. "It's not easy to just – tell you, okay."

"Either you tell me... or I walk." I said firmly. "And this time, Dylan, I'm not gonna come back."

He stood there, staring at me, an indifferent expression covering his face, as if he was contemplating on whether to tell me or not. And that only made it worse.

"Or don't tell me. Take the money and leave. It's what you wanted to do anyway right." I snapped and turned but he grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop.

"Jane, wait! Please just..." he struggled to find the right words. "Just – you just need to... trust–"

"Trust?" I snapped again, unable to listen to whatever excuse he had conjured up. "Trust?" I scoffed. "You don't get to speak about trust!" I ripped my arm from his grasp and stepped back. And he let me. Every inch of my body burnt with a fire hotter than hell itself.