𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

52.

Chapter 52

Silence.

Sitting on a couch in my parents' living room, I feel like I'm undergoing an unwanted therapy session. The room is cold, I feel it even through the thick layer of Harry's hoodie on my body. It isn't until my dad clears his throat when my mother, Harry, and I snap out of a daze that the awkward silence has led to.

"I'm sorry," my dad talks, standing up from his spot next to my mom to approach Harry. "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Dr. Theo D'Amore."

As if things weren't already awkward enough, my mom openly warns, "Do not shake his hand, Theo."

My dad pauses in his steps but ultimately goes against my mom's warning when offering Harry a handshake.

Harry willingly shakes my dad's hand and introduces himself when saying, "Harry."

"Nice to meet you. Also, I'm sure my wife didn't mean to point a gun at you. My apologies, but she must've thought there was an intruder—"

"Since when do you guys own a gun?" I interrupt my dad when I've sat in silence for far too long already.

With a bothered sigh, my mom says, "We've always had a gun, Joelle, for protection."

"Mom, why didn't you tell me?" I clench my jaw as I sit back with my arms crossed over my chest. I'm looking right at my mother when I don't give details of what I already know.

With bangs perfectly combed over her forehead, my mom messes it up when she pushes her hair back with another heaved sigh. Shaking her head with denial, she tells me, "Tell you what, exactly?"

"I don't know," I begin with a short scoff. "That my grandpa was a gang leader, for starters."

She looks me in the eye. Somehow, her hair seems to perfectly fall in place again as she brings her hands onto her thighs with a pat. My dad slowly paces towards her to take a seat by her side, probably thinking, we'll be here all night. "And what would that change?" She stubbornly asks. Though, before I could even answer her question, she says, "I told you your grandpa was not a good man and was not a good father and what did you do? You reached out to him anyway."

"He was dying, mom!" I sit up with a snap. "When he called to tell you he had cancer, it's like you didn't even care!"

Scoffing, my mother shifts in her seat on the couch. "Of course, I cared," she mumbles. "I spent months trying to save his life—"

"How? By finding a cure for cancer?" I raise an eyebrow at her when we begin to go back and forth. "You could've been by his side instead, you know. He asked for you a lot. He would even call me Roma, confuse me for you, sometimes! So, tell me, what the hell did he do to you for you to not be there?"

Her brown eyes gleam and I can tell she's holding in the tears that are close to spilling. When she thickly swallows, my dad stands up. "Harry, why don't we let them talk?" With a head bob, he motions Harry to follow him out.

There's hesitation when the couch creaks beneath Harry as he stands up. He looks at me then gives me a sympathetic smile. I fight the urge to grab his wrist and beg for him to stay, but I know my mother wouldn't open up in front of him. When I watch him go, my mom then sniffles.

"I resent your grandfather," she then shares. "Not only did he get your grandmother killed, he almost got me killed. He was reckless."

"My grandma?" I ask about the woman I've never met and hardly ever heard about. "What do you mean he got her killed and almost got you killed?"

Quiet and slightly hushed, she says, "His stupid gang. Joelle, I was only fourteen when somebody shot my mother right in front of me. All because he had enemies and because he forgot who his real family was. He was so caught up in running the Angelos, he never once considered our safety."

"Oh," is all I can say. Finally, I decide to stand up and walk across to the couch where she occupies. "I didn't even know about the Angelos until recently."

When I sit down next to her, she shifts her body to face me. "I had hoped you would never have to find out. I wanted you safe, Joelle."

I shake my head. "Safe," I repeat and I almost scoff at the word.

"What are you doing with that man?" She refers to Harry. "I don't trust him, Joelle, and I don't feel comfortable with him here and around you. He's an Inferno."

"No, he's not," I quickly say. "Well, he is or was— Point is, he's not one of them, Mom. Harry is good. He's—"

"Do not trust him," she warns. "Tell me the truth, Joelle, has he hurt you? I can call the cops right now—"

"What? No!" I cut her off. "No, no... Harry is not like them, I promise you that."

She reaches for my hands, squeezing them as if she's trying to convince me of something. "Don't fall for his charm. He has to be using you, Joelle... I mean it when I say stay away from him."

Snatching my hands away from her grip, I frown at her words. "He has to be using me?" I repeat but pause when I'm stumped over what to say next. Stammering my next words, I manage to say, "You can't... tell me what to do."

"For your safety, Joelle, you are not leaving this house with him. He, on the other hand, isn't welcomed."

Out of frustration, I want to yell. Though, I swallow the temptation. "You don't even know him, Mom."

"I don't have to."

"Do you hear yourself?" I raise an eyebrow. "You're judging somebody you don't even know! You can't just tell me to stay away from him because I won't. I already told you, Harry is not like them!"

"Don't be so naive," she says with a head shake filled with disapproval. "I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to keep you safe!"

"Too late! If you wanted to help me, you could've warned me about all of this! Now, I'm not safe. I'm in fucking trouble all because you failed to tell me all about my grandpa's gang and the rival that's out to get me! You know, it's so easy for you to blame my grandpa for running his gang but did you ever think he had no choice?!"

I hadn't realized I had shot up from my seat until my mother stood up. She looks at me, processing my outburst.

"You're in trouble?" She asks me.

"Harry and I are," I clarify. "He went against the guy that wants some kind of vengeance against Grandpa. It's why we left LA and why we can't go back. Dante set me up."

She flinches at the name I mentioned. Shaking from a sudden wash of chills, she starts to breathe abnormally.

"Mom?" I watch her begin to pant. "What? Is this about Dante? You know him?"

"Know him," she repeats me this time. "He used me. Joelle, he ruined my life and that man that's with your father right now will ruin your life, too."

HARRY

"Can I get you anything? Water, perhaps? Or, coffee?" Jo's dad, Theo, offers as he leads me into the kitchen that's separated from the living room.

Keeping to myself, I don't feel right leaving Jo's side. I want to sit next to her, I want my knee to touch hers, I want to watch her talk, and I want to be there for her. What I don't want is to make awkward conversation with Theo.

"Coffee, it is," Theo decides when I forget to answer him. "I need a cup after all this... Have a seat, by the way."

I pull a chair, taking a seat by the white countertop. Behind me, Theo fixes a pot of coffee to brew. Dragging knuckles across the cold surface, I turn my head a bit when I hear him talk.

"I'll just get right to it," he says. "You're seeing my daughter. Is it serious?"

Theo comes around to take a seat in the chair across from me. With a large space between us, he fixes his glasses over his eyes and raises an eyebrow at me when he waits for my answer.

"You don't talk," Theo mumbles to himself, sighing. "Listen, I don't know the situation well. I just know that my wife isn't comfortable with our daughter being around someone like you. I'm not degrading you in any way, but you're in a gang—a violent one, at that. I assume you care for JoJo, seeing you brought her all the way here, but—"

"She hates being called JoJo," I say, out of all things I'd rather say. "And before you even think of telling me to stay away from her, it's not gonna happen."

Left stunned that I've decided to talk, he sits up in his chair. "And why not?"

Clenching my jaw, I hate the fact that I have to be defending myself—Jo and me, more than anything—as he stares at me from across the counter. "What do you mean why not? Are you really insisting why I won't take my shit and leave her behind? Now, why would I leave her behind in a place she was miserable in? Why would I leave her behind with workaholics who hardly ever call her to see how her day has been? Why the fuck would I abandon her when that's all she's ever been used to?"

Theo falls silent again with lips pressed together. "Because danger pursues you," he says after a long minute. "Roma has mentioned all that she knows about gangs and how they function to me. I doubt you could ever keep Jo out of danger knowing your deal."

"She's already in danger and I'm doing everything in my entire being to drag her out of it. With all due respect, I'm protecting her more than you or your wife ever could."

"What kind of danger is she in?"

The more I look at him, the less I think it's my place to tell him that she's in the kind of danger that means he could never see her again. As I remain silent, I turn my head when I hear Jo's voice.

Before I know it, she's storming into the kitchen. "Harry, we're leaving," Jo says and it's enough for me to get off of the chair.

"Joelle, wait!" Roma then calls from behind her. "Don't leave, please. I'm only looking out for you."

Stopping in her tracks, she turns around to look at her mom. "Mom, I'm so sorry about what happened to you, but this is not that."

"How can you know for sure?" Roma asks and I already have the gut feeling it's about me.

Confirming my suspicions, Jo says, "Because I know him and I trust him! He is nothing like Dante—he's far from it! Harry and I are leaving now."

"Jo, dear, listen to your mom," Theo interrupts. "If she's telling you this, it's because she knows what's best."

I've never been one to feel uncomfortable until today. I was accustomed to being unliked, but that was when I hadn't sought approval from anybody. When I began to crave being liked by the furious girl next to me, it's difficult to pinpoint. Though, it's more difficult to watch Jo defend me. She shouldn't have to.

"I know what's best for myself," she tells her parents. "You know, I didn't come here for you to approve of the guy I'm dating. I came here to find out the truth and to warn you about the trouble I'm in."

Dating. 

"All I want to be told is that you'll be there for me and that it'll all be okay," she continues, letting her feet lead the way to me. When she's next to me, Jo hooks her fingers with my index finger. "I'll see you—" She pauses when she can't promise a next time. Turning to me, she then whispers, "Let's go, please?"

She doesn't have to tell me twice.

Sliding my hand onto her back, I nod and follow her to collect our things from where we left them in the laundry room.

"Joelle, if you leave with him, I'll— I'll call the cops and report you missing," Roma threatens, but the crack in her voice lets me know she wouldn't. She's desperate to keep Jo.

"Oh, go ahead and do that," Jo pokes. "I'm basically a fugitive wanted for fraud. I'm sure the cops would love to find me." She laughs as if she's being sarcastic, but with what Dante has against her, she's most definitely not kidding.

Picking up our things, I make sure Jo doesn't have to lift a thing. "Ready," I say to her, tempted to kiss at her tinted cheek to relax the frown on her face, but it might not be the time.

"Ready," she repeats, locking eyes with mine for a split second before she turns on her heels. Making her way to the door, her mother is calling after her again. Hesitantly, Jo stops and I stop behind her. She looks at her mom when she says, "I love you. I'm not upset with you or Dad. I just have to go." With that, Jo opens the door.

I don't look behind me—and neither does she—as we make our way to the car in the driveway. Before I walk over to the trunk of the car, I head for the passenger side where she's going. I open the door for her and she whispers a thank you to me even when she knows I don't need one from her. As she gets settled, I shut her door and I rush to drop our things in the trunk.

I join her in the car, starting the engine as her face is stuffed into the palms of her hands. "Hey," I say softly, lowering the volume of the car radio down. "Look at me, are you alright?"

"Yeah," she muffles, allowing her hands to then fall above her lap. "I got what I needed from that visit, I think."

"Yeah? What did you get from that exactly?"

She swallows, pressing her lips together as she probably processes the conversation she had with Roma. "I'll tell you more later? Let's just find a hotel or something, please."

I nod, putting the car in reverse to pull out from the driveway. "Actually," I then say after a split second of silence. "I need to make a stop... to take care of something."

As I imagined, she frowns a little. "Take care of what?" She asks as I drive away from her childhood home with selfish parents.

"Before we got interrupted," I refer to when Roma pointed a gun at me. "I was telling you about how I hold grudges."

"Mhm."

"Well, I made plans to meet up with someone I considered dead to me. Later tonight. At some diner."

"Oh? Who is it? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

I don't mind. I just don't know how to say it out loud when I shoved it down for years. When I have trouble saying anything, Jo shifts in her seat.

"If you want, I can wait for you at the hotel while you—"

"You don't want to go with me?" I ask her, looking over at her as I seem to drive on a road that I don't know where it leads to.

"You want me to go with you?" She rephrases, spiking an eyebrow. "Harry, I would go with you in a heartbeat, if you'd let me. I just didn't know where your head was at."

"Sorry," I apologize. Reaching out to touch her thigh, I squeeze to make sure she's actually here with me. "It's just something I can't explain. I've never had to explain, I think that's why I'm having trouble."

"Then you don't have to," she assures me, sliding her hand over mine. "I'll just be by your side, okay?"

Fuck, I want to kiss her.

"Good."

____

He's late.

Bouncing my leg, I'm growing impatient as I sit next to Jo in a booth at the diner. I've convinced her to order something to eat, but she bargained that we'd share a basket of fries. Out of anxiety, I haven't touched one.

I swear if he doesn't fucking show—

"Take a bite," Jo says, holding up a fry near my mouth. "Please?"

She hasn't stopped offering and I know she won't stop until I eat. I look at the fry she holds and I finally lean forward to have a bite. She smiles because of it, plopping the rest into her mouth before she lifts her Oreo shake to sip from.

I turn my head at the sound of a chime. In walks Finnegan, shaking off his umbrella as rain has suddenly fallen in the city. He then adjusts the leather jacket over his body after leaning his umbrella by the door.

"Wait isn't that—" Jo sets her milkshake down, looking at the man she finds so familiar. I then feel her eyes on me.

"Harry," he says when he finds me. "and Jo, hello. So sorry for being late, my flight was delayed by two hours. I rushed here as soon as I could." Sliding into the booth opposite of us, he then offers a smile.

Bluntly staring at him, he clears his throat as he probably waits for me to say something.

"What did I miss?" Jo asks beside me. I can tell she's already trying to make light of the situation by sharing a small laugh. Maybe a dose of her laughter is exactly what I need to hold down the resentment that wants to escape me the more I look at the stranger sitting across me.

"Right, right... The last time we interacted, we were in Las Vegas—"

"You befriended me when you were actually following me around." Raising an eyebrow at him, she pushes her plate forward to make room for her elbows on the table.

Finnegan nods. "I would like to apologize, by the way. I didn't intend to follow you around. I was only trying to get closer to my brother, but I didn't know how to approach him."

Stunned, Jo repeats, "Brother?"

"You're not my fucking brother," I finally say to Finnegan, quickly realizing that I shouldn't have called to meet him. I shouldn't have asked for his help.

"Biologically, yes I am—"

"That doesn't mean shit. Now, did you bring what I asked for or not?"

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing when he can't seem to get through to me. He should stop trying. He then nods. "I did. I brought what you asked for, but first I want to talk—"

"There's nothing to fucking talk about."

"Harry, I just had a son," Finnegan shares, selfishly withholding the fake IDs and passports so that I wouldn't leave. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone to show me the picture he has set for his lock screen. As if I'm blind to it, I don't react to the picture of a baby. "His name is Benjamin. Point is, he's the reason why I tracked you down. He's the reason why I am here, Harry."

I think Jo notices how numb I am at the confirmation of Finnegan having a newborn child. She touches my arm, lightly squeezing as I feel her eyes on me. Am I supposed to congratulate him? "Full of shit," I mutter instead.

"What?"

"I said you're full of shit," I tell Finnegan. "I don't know what I find more ridiculous, the fact that it took a baby for you to come looking for me or that you even bothered to look after all these years."

He soaks up my words, leaning back as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. He swallows thickly then says, "I never intended to leave you with them."

If he didn't have what I needed to go far away with Jo, I'd leave—or unleash a sick kind of rage on him.

"But I was sixteen and in trouble and you were only three. Harry, by the time I was out of trouble and well-enough to support you, I had lost you to the foster system."

"Just admit that you never fucking looked."

"Harry, I did. I looked for you. I will admit that at one point, I stopped. I gave up and I began picturing—no, hoping—you ended up getting adopted by a nice family. One that didn't treat you like shit."

I could only bitterly laugh at that.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I fucked up. Believe me, I would have taken you with me if I wasn't already in deep shit. Harry, I stole money from someone I wasn't supposed to and because of that, they wanted to kill me. I was a stupid teenager!"

"Who wanted to kill you?" Jo speaks up after being quiet beside me.

"When I was a teenager, I got caught up in selling drugs to make extra cash. Let's just say a certain drug lord at the time noticed I was stealing and he sent people for my head. Ever since then, I ran away so that they couldn't find me. I met someone along the way who helped me change my identity and everything." Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a yellow envelope sleeve and drops it onto the table. "I understand both of you are in an uncannily similar situation. This is what you asked for, Harry."

I take the envelope sleeve, choosing to ignore his reasons for abandoning me. I open it and I pour what's inside onto the table. When Jo sees her picture on several IDs from different states, she reaches for them.

"Kate Jones, Lucia Taylor, Aubrey Miller," she reads off.

"I brought options," Finnegan says. "You take these and be whoever you want. There are matching passports and I highly suggest using them to get out of the country."

I gather everything, putting them back into the envelope as I don't bother to read my fake names. "Thanks," I mutter. "We're going to leave now."

"Wait," Jo stops me with a hand on my thigh as she looks at Finnegan. "So, your name is not Finny?"

Laughing, he says, "No, it is. My real name is Finnegan George Styles. For the past twenty years, I've been Daniel Carter. My wife knows everything, but she calls me Danny."

"You have a wife?"

Please, Jo... Don't converse with him now.

"I do. She and my son, Benji, are my entire fucking world."

She smiles at that. "I'm sorry... Do you want to order something to eat? I can call the waitress over—"

"No, we should go now," I tell Jo before she tries to stay longer.

"But—"

I step out of the booth, dropping cash onto the table to cut this short. I wouldn't be able to bear another minute at the table when resentment and maybe a whole lot of jealousy are factors taking over me.

"No, he's right," Finnegan then tells Jo. "Go on. Just be safe and careful. This is your chance to start over. Take it and run because I know how this shit works."

Sliding out of the booth with me, Jo hugs herself in the hoodie she wears. "Thank you, Finny. Congrats on having a son, by the way. He's beautiful."

"Thank you, Jo." Giving her a head nod, he then waves.

All I can do is walk away and make sure Jo stays close behind me. I open the door for her and when rain falls heavier, she pulls the hood over her head. Together, we jog over to the car.

As we get settled, I start the car back up.

"We're heading to a hotel now, right?" Jo asks beside me.

"No, we're driving to the East Coast and we'll catch a flight there."

"Why can't we catch a flight here?"

"Jo, we have all this cash in the trunk. When we get to the East Coast, I'll set up a bank account and—"

"I'm tired," she interrupts. "And I know you're tired, too. Let's just find a hotel, please."

"I'm fine," I say, pulling out of the diner parking lot. "Let's just get out of here."

"Harry, it's raining hard."

Stubbornly, I don't answer her. I turn on the windshield wipers and I exit the lot.

"Harry, you haven't eaten, you've barely slept. I'm not letting you drive us across the country like this. Either find a hotel—"

"Or what, Jo?" I look at her as I come across a red light. Glowing through the windshield, she trembles from the cold in the passenger seat.

"Look, I know seeing your brother was—"

"He's not my," I pause, swallowing as the traffic light has turned green. Though, I haven't moved. My foot remains on the brake as the cars behind me aggressively honk. Tightening my jaw, I don't have the energy to honk back.

"Do you want to pull over?" Jo softly asks beside me.

"Yeah," I give in as I remind myself that she's on my side. She's concerned the way I find myself concerned about her at times. Releasing the pressure I hold on the brake, I pull over against the curb and once I park, I lean back with an exhausted groan escaping me.

Unexpectedly, Jo climbs over me. She fits in the space between my body and the steering wheel and she settles her hands on my cheeks the way she always does. It's strange to think I feel comforted every time she does that.

"How do you feel after that?" She asks me. "After seeing Finny and after hearing what he had to say?" When I shrug, she looks me in the eye then instructs, "Use your words."

"I don't know," I say out loud. "I'm just fucking annoyed... that he expects me to forgive him. If he has a perfect life, why bother looking for me now?"

She hums, looking into my eyes. "It sounds to me that he's searching for understanding over forgiveness."

"What do you mean?"

"Put yourself in his shoes. He was only sixteen and you were only three. He couldn't take care of you. It sounds to me that he did try to find you again."

"I don't care, Jo," I say with a sigh as she remains on my lap.

"Alright, fine... I can't tell you how to feel. It's not my place. But you said yourself that you hold grudges and sometimes that's not healthy. Harry, baby, the past is in the past. I'm so fucking sorry you had it insanely rough, but you're here now... As much as I want to be furious at my mom and dad, too, how can I when all of this has brought me to you?"

Baby.

I slide my hands underneath the hoodie on her body. I feel the wild thump in my chest as she looks at me. Tugging her closer, the scent of her beautiful hair draws me to kiss her cheek. Because of it, she wraps her arms around my neck.

"Jo," I whisper her name and she hums in response. "Forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?"

"For being an asshole when we first met. For doing shit to spite you. For embarrassing you at the parlor and for every other crap I pulled before realizing you're fucking it. How you even want to be around me, is beyond me after all that I've done."

"Don't ask me how, because I don't know either," she says, but she's only teasing me when she gives me that pretty smirk. She then says, "Don't apologize for your growth. Ever."

"Kiss," I whisper, gripping at her waist. "Please."

Without hesitation, Jo leans forward as her soft lips peck mine. I almost whine when I want more, but as if she read my mind, she kisses me again for much longer. It's fucking heaven, I'm convinced.

And it rushes through me, impulsivity, the moment she parts from my mouth. "New plan," I whisper. "We'll spend our very last night here, at a hotel, and tomorrow—" I have to pause for just a moment. "Tomorrow we leave. We get the hell out of here, but on one condition."

"Oh, no. You're giving me a condition?" She laughs softly.

"We leave Seattle together. As in... let me leave Seattle as your fucking... boyfriend."

I don't need light to know her cheeks have turned a shade of pink. I can tell by the way she breathes. If there's a God, please have her say yes.

"I don't know how to be one," I come out and say. "But—"

She interrupts me with a kiss. Running her fingers into my hair, she pulls me into bliss. "Fuck," she mutters by my lips. "I was afraid we'd only be friends who fuck forever."

She gets the corners of my lips to lift even after the hell we've been through today. "I want to be your boyfriend," I say again.

"Then be my boyfriend," she allows, brushing the tip of her nose against mine. "and I'll be your girlfriend."

"Yes, please," I eagerly respond. "Please, pretty girl. I want that so fucking bad. And I swear, I won't make you regret this."

"Now I doubt you could ever make me regret this," she then says to me. "Kiss."

And just like that, I kiss my girlfriend. For the first time in my life, my cards might have just been dealt with right.

—

reading the comments, i can tell that most of you do not trust me??

kisses,
mila!