Knockout (Sequel to Dark)

Chapter 6 (Part One)

“He said it was legal, not sure how well tested it was though. But it took everything out of here,” he taps in forehead. “Gets rid of it for a while. It made me feel happy again.”

I want to cry, scream at him but I don’t because the idea of Harry being so utterly lost that he could only find happiness from something dangerous, temporary and artificial leaves me feeling broken. I want to bundle him up in my arms and shout at him all at the same time.

“I couldn’t afford it and I didn’t find out until later that the distributor I used manages one of my main competitors. I was a dual income loss so it was bit of a bonus for him I guess,” he gestures half-heartedly at his face.

The damaged left eye glints, following the path of the right but not really seeing. My lips purse, eyes water and the lump in my throat threatens to choke me.

 “And he left you?”

“They. It was two of them,” Harry corrects me calmly.

“You were on your own?” I ask with a tremble.

He looks up from the task in hand upon hearing my voice break. I don’t wish to become an ugly mess of disastrous tears but Harry recognises the signs and we both know I’m going to cry.

“Don’t get upset, Bo,” he almost sighs. “It’s already happened, can’t do much about it now.”

His reassurance is piss poor, like he can’t be bothered or more than likely he’s let go of any human response to comfort. Regardless of his lack of concern, I can’t seem to shake the image of him crumpled to the floor in some dirty alley. He’s alone, frightened and hurting.

 “Did you go to the police?”

More water is mopped up until the paper is soggy. It’s thrown into the plastic bag.

“No, they came to visit me in hospital. I didn’t allow them to pursue it though.”

My teeth grit in frustration and I stow the need to grab him by the shoulders and shake.

“Why not? You knew your attackers?” I ask in disbelief. “Those people left you permanently scarred. You’re blind, Harry.”

The fury in my words is returned with a fogged, steely stare. He stands and so do I. We’re matched in passionate words, but far from equal in height.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back with venom.

“Then why didn’t you press charges?”

My body slumps with disappointment. It’s a hopelessness of nearing defeat. What’s the use in arguing with him? He seems to deflate, puffing out the aggravation that has his muscles tense.

“Because I know they thought I deserved it,” Harry admits softly, head bowed in shame. “The way they were looking at me made me feel worthless, like it was a waste of their time.”

“That’s their job, Harry. They’re supposed to help you.”

My reasoning is brushed aside.

“There wasn’t much point anyway. It would be like adding fuel to an inferno. I know who it was but you don’t play games with those sort of people, Bo.”

I look to his face, dark circles under his eyes, cheekbones more prominent and no hope of even a hint of a coveted smile. I miss him.

“I wish I was there.”

He folds his arms across his chest, defensive and less than pleased with my wish. I would never have let him get to that stage.

“No you don’t.”