Priory // h.s.

chapter forty-one

Harry and I trail after Maura's clicking heels like a pair of defiant schoolchildren. I close my eyes and will with all my mind for a giant rock to fall on top of Maura. It doesn't work, unfortunately.

"What's she going to do to us?" I whisper.

"What can she do? Damon's downstairs at the dance. She can't interrupt him to tattle on us," he responds confidently.

She can tell him later, and who knows what he'll do to us.

I wish I could share his assurance, even though I have a feeling that he's only putting on a pretense of confidence to try to keep me calm. My heart is thumping like that of a scared rabbit's, and my palms are slick with sweat.

Ahead of us, Maura turns to fix us both with a severe glare. "I thought," she begins icily, "that you both had recieved fair warning to cease your nosiness and misbehavior."

Harry and I remain silent, meeting her with cool stares. I try to draw on his strength to keep my head high--or at the very least, to stop my knees from knocking together. 

"As employees of Priory, you were explicitly requested to be in attendance at the entirety of the dance tonight. Mr. Reeves was counting on the support of his trusted interns. It shows the unified spirit and pride of our foundation.."

I nearly burst out laughing, only managing to seal my lips shut at the last second. Clearly reading my mind, Harry kicks me lightly on the back of my leg. I nudge him back.

Maura is getting angrier by the second. "Mr. Styles, you've been in trouble several times before with your superiors. Are you under the impression that your job here, in this top-notch laboratory, is some sort of joke? If so, let me hasten to assure you that Priory has no place for slackers and don't-cares like you. Go find some other place to do nothing."

I'm filled with rage on Harry's behalf. How dare she say that to him, after what she did to Margaret, and all the evil she's been supervising behind closed doors?

By her smirk, I can tell she's choosing her words carefully. She's in control here, and she intends to milk it for all it's worth.

Leaning in close to Harry's ear, she whispers, "Curiosity killed the cat. I think you know that better than anyone. Maybe if you'd turned out more like your brother, your life wouldn't be such a mess. I, for one, still can't believe you're related to Gerald Styles." She moves to step away. "And be sure I'm telling Damon about this. I'm sure he'll be very interested in hearing about what you two were doing in that lab. That goes for you, too, Ms. Faye."

As soon as she's gone, I kick a wall. "That fucking bitch."

Harry remains unnaturally silent, covering his face in his hands. After I've calmed myself down substantially, I walk over to him and put one hand in his shoulder. He looks up, and the expression in his eyes rips me open like a knife.

"She knows," he says hoarsely, hardly aware of my presence beside him. "She knows every single one of my weaknesses, and how to use them against me."

"Oh, Harry." I feel my heart breaking for him.

"Well you know what? I don't even give a fuck anymore. This little game that they're trying to play with me... it's not working anymore. It's not going to work ever again." He turns to me without warning. "You know why?"

"Why?" I have no idea what he's rambling about, but I figure in situations like this it's better to just listen and let Harry be Harry.

"Because I'm not alone anymore. I have you."

I stare at him like an idiot, totally unsure of what to say. His cheeks turn pink, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "I mean, um, if you're still with me in the investigation. If you're not that's fine too-"