Chapter Seventeen

*Not edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 17– This is stupid:

"Slow down, kid."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, slow down."

"Seriously, shut the fuck up."

"Are you really mad I didn't let you kill someone?" Jace scoffs in disbelief as he braces his arms against the dashboard. Fucking dramatic.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and just to piss him off, I drive faster, ignoring his protests. "Are you fucking kidding me, Jace? You saw his wrist, you saw the mark, you know where the fuck they came from!" I exclaim in anger. He didn't even let me ask them questions or get information out of them before he was dragging me away.

"I know, R.A. But that doesn't mean you get to kill them just because of where they came from. If we're going by that logic, you should kill me, too."

I glance over at him with a scowl. "Don't fucking tempt me, because right now I would."

He sighs frustratedly. "Think about this rationally, okay? Say I had let you kill them... then what? We either had to walk out of there carrying two dead bodies without looking suspicious. Or, we would've had to leave the bodies there for them people to find which would essentially start a fucking war," he finishes off with a shake of his head. "We done the right thing."

"Right, okay. So because you wanted to keep your morals in check and prove a fucking point of what a good fucking person you are, you've also let two people, who could run back to the facility and tell them exactly where the fuck we are, live. Congratulations on fucking us both over."

Leaning back in his seat, Jace runs a hand through his hair. "Look, either option would have done us no good. I just went for the one that works more in our favour— Let me finish," he scolds as he sees me getting ready to argue his point. "They didn't seem to recognise us, just like we didn't recognise them, so chances are they don't know we were apart of that shit. But... if they were to inform the facility of our whereabouts, we still have enough time to leave and get away from here before they can get to us. Had we of killed them, Mac and whoever is above him would've gotten to us much quicker than the facility ever could."

"I know that, Jace, I'm not a fucking idiot. Killing them would've caused more problems, but—." I cut myself off abruptly, not exactly knowing what I was going to say, but also having a slight idea of what my subconscious was just about to spill and not wanting to admit it out loud.

Jace looks confused. "But what? If you knew it would've been a bad idea, why would you want to do it? I don't understand..." he trails off, and I'm thankful in this moment that Jace isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. He's smart, sure, but he can sometimes be a little oblivious— like now.

"Nothing, Jace. Just drop it," I order through gritted teeth, trying to avoid his piercing stare.

"I don't— Are you seriously this obsessed with killing people that you'd rather start a whole big mess than just leave t— ...oh," he suddenly mumbles, causing me to glance over at him briefly, my eyebrows furrowed. "You don't want to leave, do you?"

"What?" I look back at the road ahead. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to leave. Killing those two guards would've meant you could stay here. But now... now you have to leave."

I shake my head, denying it as soon as the assumption is made. "Don't talk shit, Jace. Of course I don't want to stay here."

"But you're going to?" He questions, but it sounds like it's more of a statement, like he already knows my answer.

I sigh. "Not because I want to. I have to."

"Why? What for?" He frowns in confusion, his face screwing up. "For Dakota? For Lilah? For Zeke? I know you're fond of that one," he mumbles the last part almost to himself.

"Shut up, I'm not fond of any of them," I deny once again. "They're not part of the reason I need to stay."

"So what is the reason?" Jace presses, turning his body so it's facing me. I glare at the foot that's on my seat and he puts it back on the floor.

"I have some shit I need to sort out and I can't leave without finishing it," I explain vaguely.

"Is this about Dakota?" He raises an eyebrow. I ignore the question, focusing ahead. I relax slightly when I realise we're back in Raven Hollow and I'll be able to get in bed soon. "Okay... but at least answer me this," he sounds serious as he shifts in his seat, and I decide to spare him a glance as I look at the expression on his face. He has a frown on his split lip and a bruise forming on his high cheekbone. His eyebrows are creased and he has lines on his forehead.

"Are you really willing to risk everything for him?"

The question catches me off guard and I tense up as soon as it leaves his lips. His intense stare makes me even more uncomfortable and I hold back from fidgeting.

Needless to say, I don't offer him a response, instead I stay quiet for the duration of the ride back. Jace doesn't seem to mind too much, though, almost as if he expected my ignorance. However, despite my outright avoidance, the question repeats itself over and over in my mind.

But to save myself any more self-loathing and inner-battles, I decide not to admit the answer to myself, either.

*

It's late when we get in, but I know Jace isn't tired, there's too much adrenaline coursing through his body for him to be able to sleep. So when he tells me he's going to bed, I know it's just a way to avoid further conversation until tomorrow.

It's fine with me, though. I don't really want to speak to him, either— not tonight. I know in the morning there will be a conversation; we need to figure out what we're going to do now, but I'm also aware that if we don't spend some time apart, I'll end up killing him.

"You would never do that," Nine sits beside me at the end of my bed, her small bruised and dirty legs dangling above the floor. From the corner of my eye I can see her staring up at me with a smile, but her cracked lips and lifeless face make her look creepier than she used to be. Her tangled hair hangs over her shoulders in knotted clumps of blood and dirt and her boney shoulders are seen through her ripped shirt.

I always wonder what happened to her, but I've never asked. I don't think I'd get an answer even if I were to question it, but at the same time, I don't think I want one. As much as it's been eating away at me not knowing what happened to the girl in the cell opposite my own, I also think that ignorance is better than knowledge in this case.

"Are you seriously still ignoring me?" She huffs childishly. I take my jacket off and throw it aside, ignoring her presence. "Mature," she mumbles as I replace the jacket with a large jumper. I can see her face from the corner of my eye as she watches me grab the duffel bag and sling it over my shoulder, grabbing a lighter from the bedside table, I shove it in my pocket. "What are you doing?"

Again, I pay her no attention as I open the door to my room and close it behind me before going down stairs. I tell Rey he has to stay indoors as I head out to the back yard, the bitter wind nipping at my exposed legs. The wind blows gently, not as harsh as some of the previous nights, but it's enough to sway the trees at the end of the garden and make the leaves rattle.

I open the duffel bag and dump it on the ground in the middle of the garden, and with the bottle of Jace's alcohol that I swiped from the counter before coming out here, I douse the bundled of cash in the clear, bitter liquid.

I chuck the almost empty bottle on the floor next to my feet when I'm done, the thump it makes almost inaudible. Nine continues to question my actions as I flick open the lighter, the flame tall and bright. Without much thought I let it drop into the duffel bag, setting the money on fire.

The cash is fake. It was simply a ploy to get myself a meeting with Mac. I pretended to be naive and stupid by trying to buy Dakota out of a contract with the money I had— which they saw was real; or so they thought. Now Mac thinks I'm just some simpleton with no idea how any of the business he deals with works, when really, I know a lot more than I let on thanks to Ricky and my unbelievable intelligence. What Mac doesn't know, is that he gave me the last name of the man in the suit, and I can do a lot with just a surname and the minimal information I have on him.

How many Mr. LaTorre's can their be around here?

Not many, that's for sure.

I haven't thought about what will happen when I get his information and find out who he is and where he lives, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, I watch the fire burn as pieces of paper and ash rise above the flames and blow softly in the wind.

Nine's face appears on the other side of the duffel bag, staring at me with wonder. I ignore her the best I can and settle on staring down at the burning money— fake money. Her face is slightly distorted through the ashy smoke and the flames, but it doesn't make much of a difference; her face is distorted anyway.

I don't remember how she used to look before she started appearing out of no where with dirty, bruised skin and broken bones. I dream about her, I know I do. She's in the majority of the nightmares that keep me awake at night, but every time I wake up, the image of her face is a blurred memory that I can quite make out. I just remember her hair and her eyes, the only thing that hasn't changed since she creepily started showing up whenever she felt like it.

It's been around eight years since she died, give or take, but she still haunts my dreams every night.

And clearly my reality because here she fucking is.

"I don't know why you're ignoring me," she sighs as she appears at my side, her small figure peering up at me curiously. From the corner of my eye, I can make out her twisted elbow and my stomach twists uncomfortably. She should really get that checked out. "You never used to ignore me before."

I don't say anything.

"This is stupid," she folds her arms. "I feel like I'm talking to myself here." Ironic. "Seriously. Just a nod will d—."

"Why don't you just save us both the time and leave?" I snap harshly, turning my head slowly to look at her.

"That's not very nice," she mumbles with a frown. "And you know I can't leave yet."

I scoff. "Why the fuck not?"

"Because you need me," she vaguely says. "I don't just show up to annoy you, Harlow. I'm here for a reason." I grit my teeth and shake my head, not believing a word she says. She's not even real. "It's true. I'm here because you need me here."

"So why not just tell me what the fuck I need you for so I can be fucking rid of you already?" I counter back with a bite to my tone. Nine looks to her bloodied feet sadly. "I don't want you here, don't you get that? I want you to leave me the fuck alone."

"I can't," she whispers.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes as I scoff bitterly. "Yes you can. You do it all the fucking time!" I exclaim angrily, my fingers shaking so much that I have to curl them into my palms. "You show up, you get comfortable and then you leave again. You always fucking leave, so just spare me the fucking bullshit and fuck off now."

"Is this why you've been ignoring me?" She speaks up gently after I've calmed my breathing down. "Because you know I'll leave?"

"I ignore you because you're not real and I'm not crazy," I deny, aware at the irony as I stand here talking to her. "Fuck do I care if you leave or not?"

We stand in silence for a few more minutes, the fire beginning to die out as the remainder of the paper burns in its hot flames. The wind picks up slightly and the change in temperature causes goosebumps to rise on my skin. I cross my arms tighter around me as I wait for the bag to stop burning. The hose isn't too far away, so I can always put it out that way if it takes too long, but I'd rather avoid the hassle.

"Hey, Harlow..." Nine trials off, her hand reaching out to touch my arm, but she's not real, so I don't feel her grip, just a soft brush of air. I side eye her with boredom as I watch her briefly. She doesn't mind the fact that I ignore her as her eyes scan the side of my face.

"I'm sorry I can't stay with you like you want me to, but I will always be here when you need me."

___

Author's Note

So quick question: Should I make this series into 2 books instead of 3?

I don't know 100% how I'd make it work, but I'd probably move a few of the chapters from this book over to Book 1 (with no edits or anything like that, just leave them exactly as they are) and start this book from a different starting point, and just try and fit the rest of the storyline into this book (maybe have a few more chapters rather than the 50/60 I have in book 1). It would mean some of the stuff I want to add can't be added and I'd have to speed it up a little, but it would also mean finishing the book earlier and not having to wait for a whole new book.

If that's what you want I can find a way to do it, but if you'd prefer keeping it as 3 books and don't mind the wait, then I'll leave it as is.

Let me know!