A Debt To Pay

18

I sighed when the line went dead before reluctantly handing Logan his phone back. He watched me for a moment as he slid it back into the drawer before folding his arms across his chest. "Who were you talking about?"

I shook my head. "Oh, she works with loads of kids in college, I don't really remember anything about them but she always tells me stories about them anyway," I explained.

One of his eyebrows quirked. "No," he said, "I meant before that. You asked if someone had hurt her? Someone with a knife?"

I blushed a little when I realised that he was asking about Stacey and not the kids Ash works with. "Oh," I muttered, "my step-mother," I explained, my fists clenching at my sides at the thought of her. "She's a bitch." I'd never hated anyone as much as I hated her – not even Logan – and for her to replace my beautiful, kind and loving mother; it wasn't right.

"Your father doesn't know?" He asked. "About the scars all over your body?"

Again, I felt my cheeks redden, knowing he'd seen a generous amount of my body when I'd only been wearing underwear. I shrugged my shoulder and tried to ignore the latter half of his question. "He knows she's a bitch. He doesn't love her. They only married to keep the peace between the Familia's, it was her parents' idea. At first, I thought she was only acting that way because she'd basically been sold off against her will"

I couldn't help but send him a pointed look but he ignored it. "When she lashed out after first moving in, I didn't tell my dad. I didn't want to cause problems when things seemed so fragile as they were. But then things started to get worse, she got angrier and more violent but everything had finally settled down and I didn't want to ruin that."

"Even if she hurts your sister?" he questioned.

"She'd never gone after Ashley before. I was her favourite target but now I'm not there to protect my sister I don't know what she'll do," I spat, angry tears welling up in my eyes. I rarely cried but I hadn't exactly managed to get a good night's sleep after last night and now, after speaking to my sister, the home sickness started to creep up the back of my throat.

"Take the rest of the day," Logan ordered, dropping back into his desk chair. "I have work to do and don't need anyone distracting me. I'll send for you tomorrow."

I didn't bother to question him and instead, headed for my room, my eyes downcast so nobody could see the tears welling in them. Not looking where I was going, I bumped into someone, hitting my head against theirs. "Ow," I snapped, glaring up to come face to face with Henry.

He rubbed his own head with his palm and a frown crossed his face as he scanned mine. "Are you okay?" He asked, noticing my watery eyes. He took my hand gently and pulled me down a quieter, more secluded hallway. "What happened?"

The two of us could barely fit in the small space he had found us, out the way of any of the guards. I couldn't help but notice the way his body was pressed against mine, my back to the wall and him blocking the only way out. But the soft expression on his face and the concern swimming in his eyes made me relax a little. Henry was harmless. "I'm fine," I told him, shaking my head and willing away my tears, "just a little homesick".

He nodded in understanding before inching forward even further and softly stroking where his head had bumped against mine. "Sorry about that," he whispered, his breath warm on my cheek and his eyes locked on mine.

"We both know it was my fault, why are you apologising?" I asked with an amused grin.

He bit his lip and I felt his other hand slide around my waist, pushing the hem of my shirt up so it was resting against bare skin. "You don't seem like the kind of person to admit you are wrong," he admitted with a small smile.

I tried to manoeuvre, starting to feel uncomfortable once again but forced a smile. "I'm not usually," I said with a laugh, "But I happen to like you so I'll make an exception." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. The intense look that flashed through his eyes made me feel uneasy.

"I like you too," he responded, his fingers lightly stroking up my back.

I cleared my throat. "You're not supposed to be talking to me," I reminded him, knowing Logan wouldn't approve and the last thing I wanted was for Henry to get in trouble.

He nodded solemnly. "That's true." He reached forward and pressed his lips to mine before dropping his hands from me and walking away.

For a moment, I stood completely paralysed, my mind dazed by what had just happened. I followed after Henry, back into the main hallway to find him gone. I shook my head and made my way to my room. I couldn't think about Henry or his motives because my mind was still whirring with thoughts of my sister. Angrily, I threw myself onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling with a scowl on my face.

What if Stacey really did hurt my sister? What if my dad wasn't around and she drives her stupid knife straight through my sisters big, beautiful, warm and loving heart?

I didn't realise I was crying until a tear slipped between my lips and I tasted the small, salty droplet. For some reason, the small sign of weakness made me cry faster, heavier.

My heart hurt thinking of my poor sister. I missed her so much and would've given anything in that moment to be beside her, holding her freezing cold hand and laughing with her about something until neither of us could breathe.

I would've died for a movie night, filling our faces with popcorn and devouring tubs of ice cream while laughing or sobbing at our favourite films. Swooning and arguing over the best-looking actors as though we stood a chance with any of them and then falling asleep under a thin blanket, squished together on the couch.

I closed my eyes and imagined her lying next to me as tears tumbled down my cheeks silently until I drifted off.