Guns and Roses

TWENTY-FOUR

♛Cameron Dawson♛

I glance at her every so often, noticing her reserved behavior. She's sat back in her chair, her arms crossed over chest while she watches the world outside of her window. Her hair that is left loose acts as a curtain but I still manage to make out her biting her lip in thought.

And damn does the action do things to me.

However, it makes me wonder if she maybe had an anxiety attack last night. After finding out about her nyctophobia and her disorder, I have a newfound respect for Harley. It takes someone strong and brave to deal with something like that- something that you have no control over. Knowing this, I see how strong Harley is and I feel a sense of admiration.

I remember the night she had told me. The night she had held onto me tightly and cried into my chest. It wrecked me, physically pained me, to see her in such a state. I hated it. And that made me nervous because it means I care even though I really shouldn't. I feel honored that she trusted me enough to tell me something like that but I also feel like something is weighing me down- like something needs to be said but I don't know what.

However, even though I was bewildered and confused, I was also concerned. Most people's triggers for such a disorder come from an experience- whether it be a small one or not- which sets the person off to begin with. Harley's trigger isn't small or silly, it's understandable which makes me wonder what set her off.

I glance at her again, avoiding the temptation to gaze at her beauty all day. "Are you okay?" I ask softly, my voice laced with concern.

Her head snaps to mine and she seems a little dazed before she nods. "Can I ask you something?" She pipes up and I nod.

The question she asks me is not what I'm expecting though.

"How do you know Officer Frank?" She asks.

I sit up straighter, my mind blank as I try come up with a decent answer. The answer to her question will raise up many more which I'm not willing to answer.

I can't answer.

If she knew, not only would I be putting myself in danger but her as well and that is definitely not my intention.

"We became friends when I moved here. He helped me settle." I answer half truthfully.

Her eyes hold my gaze. "I bumped into him at the store yesterday." She trails off and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"You did?" I ask, making a left turn.

She nods. "Yeah..." her voice trails off. "He mentioned something about a friend you had back in Colombia, that our relationship reminds him of her."

I feel my hand tighten around the steering wheel. Is Frank insane? What the hell did he think he was doing telling Harley something like that? He's putting me in danger, something I've being trying to avoid for the last few years of my life. He could quite possibly put Harley in danger too. How does he know that Harley would even be okay with my truth?

Telling Harley would not only put this whole case at a risk, but so would my relationship. She would hate me if she knew what I've done and I'm not sure I can cope with that. She's one person I actually feel comfortable with, one person I've slowly come to enjoy being with.

All of that would be destroyed if she found about Carla.

I don't answer her and I can feel the weight of her gaze on me.

"What was her name?" She asks me softly and I clench my jaw to ignore the memories of her coming back.

"It doesn't matter." I mutter, my last memory of her coming up behind my eyes; the way her father clutched her lifeless body that had blood spilling onto the floor. The way he sobbed and screamed out her name to try and wake her up. The way her eyes stayed open, the light no longer inside of them. He had looked at me from the floor, his eyes blazing in anger while he cried in hysteria. I watched him, a gun in my hands as two lives had being taken that day.