Try Learn Destroy (Book One- Try)

FOUR- Don't Tell Harlem

A strong hand takes the earpiece from me.

“Teeh, don’t tell Harlem. I mean it, give Raven the connection.” Hawk orders.

“What do you mean Raven’s not with you, who the hell are you with?” barks Hawk.

“No, I don’t want to talk to Harlem. No Teeh!” the violet haired boy protests.

“Bastard.” Hawk curses, turning the dial on his earpiece.

“Oh little brother, that’s not nice.” A male voice trills through the earpiece, Hawk grimaces.

“What do you want.” He groans.

“Oh so you don’t require superior assistance?” the voice patronises. I snatch the earpiece from Hawk.

“Is this Harlem?” I ask.

“I didn’t know my brother took a girlfriend with him on missions tsk tsk.” Laughs a dominant voiced man.

“Seriously Harlem how old are you?” Hawk snaps, fist clenched.

“I should be asking your girlfriend the same thing.” Retorts Hawk’s older brother. I frown.

“Look Harlem we don’t have time for these silly games, assailants have spotted Darcy.” Hawk yells.

“Oh so that’s your name?” Harlem asks. It almost sounds as if Harlem is mimicking Cyrus. I scowl, I have been so protective of Cyrus, at school, at home, in public, out here- wherever this is.

“What the hell do you know!” I howl in accusation.

“Yes that’s her name. And I swear to God Harlem, if you know anything about that Cyrus kid and don’t tell me right now I will...” Hawk is interrupted.

“Tsk tsk Hawk, that’s not a nice way to treat your superior.” Harlem snorts, sounding as if he is looking down upon Hawk like he is my age.

“Please don’t call yourself my superior you egocentric bubble brain.” Mutters Hawk.

“No Hawk, I think you’ll find that it is Darcy who is the bubble brain, I’m looking at her file right now, and wow Hawk you have your hands full, she’s feisty.” Harlem laughs. I begin to pace the surrounding area, looking for something to lash out at. I decide to hit the unconscious body of Maroon, which is a few steps away.

“Stop looking in there.” I command, now less agitated.

“Oh here’s something interesting, your girlfriend, Miss Milan here would spend two hours per day on a shooting range with a kid called Cyrus…” Harlem continues to drone on about my private life, the fights I’ve had, the amount of times I’ve been detained at the mall, the test scores, things about the range. I feel as if I am drowning! Why is Harlem so harsh? I don’t think I can hold back the tears for much longer. I want to go home!

“Oh and Hawk, her parents have been made redundant thirty seven times in the last five years.” Harlem notes. I can almost hear the smirk in his voice. What doesn’t he know? The large heavy tears from the mention of my parents drip from my lashes. I sink to the floor, burying my head in my hands, hoping that my tears will drown me. Harlem is too cruel! I can barely hear the argument between the pair over my sobs of agony. It’s almost as if he knew what facts would leave an impact on me. Why is Harlem intentionally hurting me? What is it that I did to him? When I get too dehydrated I stop crying. Now able to hear the conversation, I frown.

“Can’t wait.” I hear Harlem chuckle lowly and sinisterly. Hawk takes out his earpiece and puts it in his jeans pocket. He joins me on the floor and hands me a handkerchief to blow my nose into. I dry my teary eyes on the now sodden hankie.