FIFTY
Gigi
Things have been off between me and Harry since my stunt at Gold House skyrocketed his protective instinct. He claims he’s afraid of losing me, but if I’m honest, I’m sure he thinks I’m incapable of doing the job.
Adding to the tension in our relationship, we’ve been forced apart the past few weeks. Harry’s been pulled onto several more jobs than normal, and then, when he’s home, he’s too knackered to entertain the idea of sneaking around. Whenever we do find time, the Boss is pulling me into meetings about upcoming heists. My role within the Circle has never been as demanding as it is right now.
I’m thriving, power threatening to consume me. The recruits and the Boss’s businessmen watch me like I’m someone who should be feared. The feeling is surreal – and what I’ve ached for my whole life.
The days of us sneaking around after Pixies seem like a lifetime ago, so when I first saw we had a performance scheduled for tomorrow, it felt like a saving grace. Though, with the way Harry’s been acting lately, my doubts he’ll even turn up are increasing.
I bite the bullet, deciding to text him.
ME: You’re still available for Pixies tomorrow?
HARRY: On a job. Chat later .
I frown, double-checking the text message, certain there are no heists scheduled for today. I lean over the table in the boardroom and pick up the paperwork listing today’s quota.
“Hey, Dan.”
The clacking of laptop keys pauses.
“Were there any heists scheduled for today?”
“Nah, don’t think so.” He slurps on the straw of his cup. “Why’s that?”
“No reason.” I look back at my phone, betrayal making my stomach drop. Deciding to investigate, I storm towards the door, calling over my shoulder, “Just going to get some lunch. You want anything?”
Dan mutters under his breath something that sounds a lot like “too busy”.
I walk out of the room, quickening my steps as if someone is chasing my heel. I turn left and walk down the hallway, past the sunspots reflected on the floor from the glass windows, and past those gathering for lunch. As if my mind is naturally drawn to it, my eyes flicker to a glass cabinet where I know a picture of Jack sits framed beside his colleagues. My priorities lately have forced my past life to slip through the cracks. The burden of Jack’s death continues to plague my empty silences, but I turn my face away, afraid I’ll despise what I’ll find if I chase his ghost back to the vulnerable girl who grew to thrive in his shadow.
I walk faster and push open the doors to the cafeteria, spotting Andy sitting alone at a table. Walking up to him, I lean my palms against the surface and ask, “Where’s Harry?”
He bites into his apple. “Why? You missing your fix of sanity?”
“What does that even mean?”
He shrugs, looking down distastefully at the fruit. “And they say things are greener on the other side.”
I frown, confused at his nonsense. “Are you high or something?”
He chews on his mouthful, deep in thought. “Or something. ”
He turns his head to face me, red-rimmed eyes speaking a thousand words.
My God, what’s happened to him?
“You know, Mia asks about you every day,” Andy states, stealing my concern.
Pain squeezes my heart at thought of her, making it a struggle to face him.
“She’s worried about you. And you know what I tell her? Nothing. I tell her nothing.”
“There’s nothing to say—”
“Bullshit. Don’t make excuses because the guilt is too heavy on your shoulders. You’ve been an awful friend, but she’s the one who thinks she’s done something wrong. That she’s the reason you’re acting the way you are.”
A wave of shock slaps me.
Despite the sacrifice I made to save her life sitting on the tip of my tongue, pure molten anger rises to the surface.
How dare Andy talk to me like that!
The fury I feel is more substantial than any remorse for my best friend.
“Acting the way I am?” I spit out the words. “Where has this attitude come from, Davidson? I’d be careful who you’re speaking to.”
He laughs, the sound cold. “I was done talking anyway.”
He rises from his seat, leaving his food tray on the table.
The longer I stand there watching him depart, the further my anger threatens to explode. Something under my skin threatens to break free. Keeping my hands busy, I storm over to the tray and tip the contents into the bin before slamming it down on the counter.
I charge in the direction Andy exited.
In case I lash out unintentionally, I hope he’s far out of sight. Yet a part of me craves to find him still lingering in the hall so I can give him a piece of my mind.
But when I step out into the corridor, my world tears into two .
Tension leaves my body the very moment I breathe.
“Harry.”
He slips off his bike helmet and shakes out his hair. When he raises his head and runs his hand through the tousled mess, he looks dishevelled. There are dark marks under his eyes, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
Has it really been that long since I last saw him?
Holding his helmet underneath his arm, he takes a step closer towards me, and I meet him in the middle until we’re only a few feet apart. On his approach I can see the tiredness incredibly clearly.
“Hi,” I say, my voice catching.
“Hey.”
“Can … can we talk?”
He nods his head, a war raging inside of it.
Leading us towards one of the vacant offices at the end of the hall, I close the door behind us, pulling down the privacy screen. The room is compact, only leaving space for a few tables and chairs. One window sits in the far corner, the blinds drawn, allowing no natural light to enter.
Harry places his helmet down and leans back against the edge of the table. He exhales a heavy breath, pressing his palms against his face. Cautiously, I walk closer and pull myself up to sit on the table beside him. He slowly moves his hands, turning his head towards me.
Capturing my cheek in his palm, he tilts my face towards him. His lips find mine, and the bliss makes my stomach twirl. The gesture is short, but it still leaves me breathless as he pulls away. His hand lingers on my cheek, and I instinctively lean into him.
“What was that for?”
“I’ve had a really shitty day,” he says with a sad smile.
The rage I was suffering only moments ago quickly ices over, replaced by something much more desirous. Precious minutes like this feel extremely rare these days.
“I’ve been looking for you. Where were you today?”
He fights a grimace, slowly retracting his hand. I grab it instantly, pulling it back to my cheek.
“You don’t have to tell me … But are you being careful?”
His thumb strokes my cheek tenderly, his eyes focused on the movement. “Aren’t I supposed to say that kind of stuff to you?”
Slowly, I lean my head into his chest, feeling content with the steady rhythm of his heart. It accelerates as I press myself into him. I sigh decadently as Harry strokes down the side of my hair, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
It’s bittersweet, having him so close yet so far away. While cherished moments like these are beautiful, they scar my chest raw. The feelings I have for him, the love I harbour underneath the surface. Emotions I’ve been refusing to admit in lieu of the truth I can never confess.
The temporary bliss is addicting, but stolen moments are gaining on us, threatening to seal our fate. It’s only a matter of time before our secrets catch up to us.
Blinking away tears, I ask, “You’ll still be at Pixies tomorrow, right?”
“I won’t let you down,” he mumbles into my hair, placing a kiss on my head. “I’ll be there.”
And I trust him with my whole heart.
I trust all of him.
But a nagging voice reminds me Romeo and Juliet only ever ended in tragedy.