Lying Liars Who Don't Tell The Truth

Chapter Fourteen

Amar took his time leaving Azhar's apartment, as he was reluctant to leave Azhar and I alone again. Eventually, he saw himself out in order to give Azhar and I space to egress back to the Abara's house. Despite my growing frustration over every word out of Amar's mouth, the thought of walking into the Abara's after everything that happened was still less appealing than staying warm in the arms of someone who was trying to kill me.

Not to mention, Azhar had grown quite cold toward me. I tried to engage him in some light banter before we egressed back to the Abara's, but he ignored me outright, avoiding my eyes and, when he was forced to grab hold of my hand to egress us both out of his apartment, he did so in a manner equivalent to how one would touch someone carrying the bubonic plague.

I couldn't tell whether the salve had weared off of him or not, though I could still feel it heavily affecting me, still blurring the line between reality and the swirly, candy-coated visions that danced across my vision every few seconds.

As Azhar and I stood in the driveway of the Abara's house — Azhar having quickly ripped his hand away from mine as soon as our feet touched the pavement — I grabbed hold of his fresh black shirt and pulled him back as he tried to walk toward the front door. "Maybe I should stay behind," I said as Azhar gave me an irritated glance.

He pushed my hand away from him. "Why?"

"I'm still kind of fucked up. And, if it's possible," I said, looking anxiously toward the house, "I think I can feel the tension from here."

"It's not really possible," said Azhar as he glanced at the house as well, though his tone was understanding. "Anyway, isn't it better if you're a little... fucked up?" The way he cursed made me smile, and I would have said something vaguely encouraging about Amar's rude treatment toward him if we hadn't been interrupted by the front door crashing open and Gallem's face poking through.

"There you guys are!" she yelled, her voice heavy and screeching. "Inside, now."

When we got inside, Squid put his face about an inch from mine and asked, "Where have you both been?"

"Are you okay?" Ansel asked, standing from the couch in the living room. I noticed both of them looked woundless, though they were both changed into new clothes.

"Have you been at Azhar's?" Gallem asked, physically pushing the two of us further inside the house, into the living room. "Why not come here?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Isn't it obvious?" sneered Squid accustingly, his face now very close to Azhar's, who gave him a gentle shove backward.

Peter scurried in from the kitchen, his face completely red and his eyes puffy as if he had been sobbing for quite some time. "I'm making tea," he said, his hands covered by two over mitts for some reason. "Two teas?" he inferred, and before waiting for a response he darted back into the kitchen.

I heard Azhar mutter something slow and vaguely threatening to Squid as I asked, trying to draw attention away from them, "Where are Scott and Tom?"

"I sent them away with friends," said Gallem, her voice dipping, like she was ashamed of it.

"Is that safe?" asked Azhar, ever the empath.

"No more so than anywhere else, apparently," said Gallem defensively. "Not that anyone finds that necessary to tell me," she said, spinning on her heels to begin pacing across the floor.

"I wouldn't start on who gets told the most, mother."

I almost didn't recognize the low, spiteful voice of Naja, who was sitting on a chair in the corner of the living room, her arms crossed in front of her and her face rigidly locked into a scowl.