13 - Cutting A Deal

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'You haven't spoken to me for three days.' Sitting across from Harlow in the bunker it was as though we were having a face off. Legs hunched up to her chest, she leant her head on her knee and looked at me lazily. Living with her had almost become a chore. One day all she would crave was to be close to me but the next she'd lash out and berate me. Some days she'd repeatedly beg me for sex. Others she would sit in silence consumed by her thoughts. Today was the latter. She blinked at me slowly, raising her head upright with what seemed like great effort.

'How do you do it?' Voice barely a whisper, she awaited my response.

'Do what?' My legs were outstretched, ankles crossed and fingers steepled in my lap.

'You're arguably the most sadistic son of a bitch I've ever known. How do you live with everything you've done? All the people you've killed? All the hurt you've caused? Tell me how you do it.' Dark bags hung under her normally bright green eyes. A pressing sense of exhaustion appeared to be squeezing the life out of her. Mulling over the accusations she had thrown out for a second, I pressed my fingertips together harder.

'I purged people of their sins. I gave them what they deserved.' The words came out as a recital, exactly the way Joseph had taught me. Harlow raised her eyebrow imperceptibly. 'I did what I had to do to survive.' The slight shrug of my shoulders made her jaw clench.

'You act like you have no regrets about what you did to those people. What you did to me.' Pulling her knees down, she unveiled the scarring that was emblazoned across her chest.

WRATH

Her black bra almost framed it like a pretty painting but one strap hung loosely off of her shoulder, ruining the illusion.

'I live without regrets. It's easier.'

'So you don't feel any guilt for beating me? For carving this bullshit into my skin? For harming my closest friends?' Fire was brewing in her stomach, threatening to explode out of her mouth like a heated dragon.

'That depends. Do you feel guilty for allowing Faith to drown herself? For ladening my eldest brother's body with bullets until he died all alone? For murdering mothers and fathers, husbands and wives who had a different opinion to you all in the name of your resistance?' Unlike her I was calm and collected. I knew what I was. I knew what I'd done. She, on the other hand, couldn't hack it. Couldn't live with the fact that she too had killed people all in the name of a biased cause.

'I hate you.' She spat the word, intending for it to wound me.

'No you don't.' My response was cool and rolled off my tongue with such ease that she recoiled in annoyance. 'There's at least five weapons in here. If you hated me that much you would've killed me by now.' At my words, Harlow reached up to the shelves beside her and wrenched a sharp knife into her hand. Getting to her feet, she strode towards me and stood over my sitting body. Bathed in her shadow, I titled my chin up and goaded her. 'Go on then.' Wielding the blade, conflict flashed across her face. Cocking my head at her, I watched her turn away. 'That's what I thought.'

'You did this to me. You made me weak.' She growled over her shoulder.

'You sound like Jacob.' I chuckled lightly and she whirled on me.

'You! You were never a part of my plan!' She seethed, pointing the blade at my throat. 'You ruined everything for me!'

'Sweetheart, you didn't have a plan to begin with.' The roll of my eyes and condescending tone in my voice sent her into a frenzy. Cans of soup flew past my face. Shelving was toppled onto the ground. The knife was used to split open the pillows on the bed. I could only assume she was imagining that the fabric was my stomach and the feathers my blood. Throughout it all I remained sat in the same spot, patiently waiting for her to finish. Eventually Harlow collapsed to her knees, breathing harsh and erratic. 'Are you quite finished Wrath?'

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