The Inception (Book #1 of The Inception Trilogy)

chapter nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

HARRY IS QUICK FOR Nive's sake, yet even after the neck snap, he had sat back on the bed with his hands buried in his hair while anger twisted his stomach in tight knots. He's been in the room at least ten minutes more than necessary, but he can't muster the strength to leave her. The situation was entirely unfair. The cards had been dealt poorly. Nive will never see her child grow up, though he hopes there's a heaven she can smile down upon him or her.

He wants to scream or punch a wall or most likely both, but instead he continues to sit there with his head hung shamefully. For vowing to keep her safe, he did a terrible job. He should've sensed that experiment before he had dropped from the tree. He should've been there to knock her out of the way. She would still be breathing, still holding her newborn, if he had only been paying closer attention.

This is his fault.

Delia was his fault.

Everyone who's ever died in his presence died completely because of him.

The door clicks open, but he doesn't look up. He knows it's Eve by the faint scent of vanilla that enters with her. He's in no mood to talk, which makes him wish he never broke his silence. It had been so much easier to stay quiet when you didn't speak at all. Words are becoming too comfortable for him again.

She doesn't speak, not yet at least. She lets out a sigh and sits in the chair at the foot of the bed. His adept hearing picks up the sound of her picking at her nails, a steady click-click noise that's oddly soothing. It's the only sound in the room for a long moment until she seems to have found what she wants to say.

"Why did you apologize to me earlier?" she asks in a quiet voice, but the question confuses him enough to lift his head. She's looking down at her lap. "You're the one that had to... I just don't understand." She peeks up at Harry and he shrugs. She lets out a humorless laugh. "No one really understands anything anymore."

He mulls this over for a moment. "I understand that you think I'm a monster. I guess apologizing for it is easier than denying it."

Eve blinks at him, then leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Her eyes meet the floor and she doesn't say anything. Harry clenches his jaw, sliding off the bed. He pulls the dull green sheet over Nive's body, his chest constricting before he manages to tear his eyes away and to Eve. She's still glaring at the tile as if it had spat insults at her.

"We should go," he says, heading for the door. "Quincy made it clear he wants us out of here."

"Hey," Eve calls out softly, puzzling him for the briefest of moments as he glances over his shoulder at her. She catches his gaze and gets to her feet, but then waves her hand aimlessly, darting her eyes to the floor yet again. "Never mind. Robbie and Sasha are in the kid's room waiting."

Harry purses his lips, his eyes snagging on the sheet with the body tucked under it. A coldness strikes his chest, stealing the breath from him until Eve's faint vanilla scent knocks him back to reality as she walks past him. He swallows hard with one more look at Nive, the friend he never got to truly know all that well. She had been immensely kind nonetheless, and she had never treated him any different than she had Sasha. Like he was still normal, still completely human.

He forces himself to turn on his heel and close the door. He leans against the frame, closing his eyes to regain his composure for a few seconds. When he looks back up, Eve is waiting at the end of the hall for him. There's a strange look on her face he can't depict, but then again he never learned to read expressions. Social interaction is all still a bit new to him. The most socializing he's ever done had been with the experiments back at the lab, and even that had been abrupt and quick. He's always been a quiet person, or at least, he's always been as far as he can remember.