A Waltz With Wolves (Book II in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter One: Shame and Pain

**DISCLAIMER**

This story is UNEDITED and UNREVISED. I haven't made any adjustments to this story since I first wrote it, which was when I was about 17 or 18 years old. I'm 23 now, for reference.

Most of the chapters I haven't even revisited since I first uploaded them. Any mistakes, I'm usually notified of them by readers who point them out in comments. Please tread lightly, for there are undoubtedly historical inconsistencies, incorrect language translations, grammar and punctuation mistakes, and information that hasn't been properly fact checked. This is a work of FICTION. Have fun with it, please! But also beware that this is an amateur piece (that I had a great time writing).

Enjoy!

-Hailey Allen, Author. 

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Now, where to start?

Well, wine has been my only companion for the last three days. And Pedro, but unlike Pedro, wine doesn't judge me; my dog isn't used to seeing me barricade myself in my room deep in a depressive fog, so because of this, he has been judging me harder than he usually does.

I'll be honest, I don't remember the last time I've showered. Wait—I do remember. The night Sebastian came over to my house and humiliated me against my sink. That's the last time I took a shower. Disgusting, I know. What's even more disgusting is that I'm not as ashamed as I should be.

I'm a little drunk right now, which has been routine for me the last few days: cry, drink more wine, eat so I don't die, and drink again until I fall asleep. I refuse to watch TV because I know I'll be tempted to turn the TV to E! News or a program of that sort, and I also know who they'll be talking about if I do.

Claude has been texting me, insisting that I shouldn't be so hard on myself. And part of me wants to believe him. But the other part? The part that knows I'm the reason that Ingrid leaked the journal? The one who spat to Sebastian that Gloria wasn't his real mother? The part that lied? That part sees Claude's testament as pure bullshit.

I finish off my glass of wine before getting out of bed to go into my kitchen. The house is pitch black even though it's 1 in the afternoon...or maybe it's 2 in the afternoon? I know for a fact it's Sunday. At least I know what day it is. Anyway, the curtains are pulled tight all around my apartment; I feel like a vampire.

As I pour more wine into my glass, I hear two to three knocks on my door that scare the shit out of me.

"Leslie!" I hear from the other side; it's Beth's voice. "Open up. It's me."

Great. I should have known my friends would be worried about me after two days of no contact to the outside world (excluding Claude). I contemplate even opening the door; she has a key, right? She can make her way in if she wants.

I roll my eyes and sip my drink against the sink, but then move to another counter when leaning against the sink jogs unfavorable memories.

"Leslie, it's Sarah. Open the door or I'll have Beth here welcome her way in."

Sarah? What the hell is she doing here? But more importantly, why is she with Beth?

When keys start sounding off against the lock, I walk over and open the door. As per the voices, it is Sarah and Beth standing next to each other, Beth looking worried, Sarah's expression unreadable. Beth's gasp when she sees the state of myself and my apartment is enough to make me regret opening the door.

"Jesus," Sarah welcomes herself inside, widening her eyes at my apartment. "What is this, Nosferatu?"

"Why, of course you can come in, Sarah." I reply sarcastically. Sarah is unamused.