Songs for this chapter
Wicked Game by Chris Issak
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LIZ'S P.O.V
It was odd being haunted by someone who was still alive, hearing their name and being reminded of their presence all the time made me grieve the past I had with them.
I tried so hard to forget, to make the past stay in the past, but recently it's been hard. I'm always reminded of her, of Aaron, Zack, my mother, everyone. Everything I tried so hard to forget is crawling back to me, shredding me to pieces slowly as each memory comes back to me.
Recently I've also been stuck living in the past filled with warm memories, but somehow the happiest ones hurt me the most.
From the moment I wake up, up until I go to sleep they are all always on my mind. I hear her voice in my dreams, her sweet eyes haunt me. I see Aaron too sometimes, but recently it's her that's been haunting me.
I see my past self and I grieve the person I used to be.
She's still inside me, I carry her wherever I go even though it's painful.
"Pack whatever you need," Harry rips out the pictures from the wall, going in an unspecific order as he takes them out one by one. "You're staying with me."
I called him as soon as I managed to catch my breath through the uncontrollable sobs, he answered on the second ring. He turned the car around before I could even get most of the words out of my trembling lips, less than ten minutes later he was knocking loudly at my door.
"What about Lexi?"
"We'll figure something out," he holds the pictures tightly in his hand, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed. "Please don't fight with me on this, just come home with me."
"Okay," I say under my breath, too exhausted to argue.
I couldn't look him in the eye, my gaze fixated on the crumbled-up pictures in his hands. My eyes froze on the top picture, a happy memory of Lexi, Zack, Katherine, and I. A vivid picture of the memory peeks itself back into my mind, the four of us curled up in Lexi's backyard together.
It was the middle of July, I was 17, and Katherine and Zack were a few years older than us but somehow we always got along well. I still remember the warm breeze, the sun setting, the cold drinks in our hands, the burnt muffins Lexi made, and our laughter.
That was the first time I felt happy, laughing along with the only people who cared about me.
They made me so happy, and as a thank you I stabbed him seven times.
What I did to Zack was merely a selfish act, one that will rot inside my brain until the day I'm rotting six feet underground. The memory of his pale body, the sad look in his eyes, and me pulling the knife out of his stomach will be a memory that will haunt me even in death. I'll never forget what I did, and I'll never forgive myself.
My mother was right, I was a selfish person.
My mind can't even begin to comprehend how Lexi will feel once she finds out. I can't imagine the sorrow she'll feel once she finds out her best friend killed one of her closest friends. If she doesn't hate me now, she will loathe me the minute she finds out.
There was a reason why Lexi preferred Grace, even if she didn't say it out loud I knew deep down she loved Grace more. Lexi lived in the past just like I did, however, her past consisted of happy memories with her best friend, and mine haunted me. Lexi loved Grace more because Grace was kinder, more honest, and more gentle than I could ever be.
She's everything I want to be but can't.
No matter how hard I try I'll never be able to give Lexi what Grace could.
I ruined everything good we both had because that's just who I was, I couldn't hold onto any good, I ruined everything and everyone; I ruined myself too.
"What happened to Zack's body?" I took the picture from his hand, staring at it until my eyes ached from the unshed tears, and my heart ached with the regret that burned through my chest.
"Zayn took care of it," he responds, his eyes full of pity as he looks into mine.
"Did anyone notice?" I choke down the tears in my eyes, "Anyone from Whelve?"
"I don't think so," his voice comes out more quiet than mine, "I hope not."
"What happens if they find out?"
After a beat of silence, he looks at the wall and then back at me, "If Zack was working for Whelve and they found out we killed him at one of their parties..." another pause, his eyebrows furrowed together as he looks for the right words. "Let's just say the consequences won't be pleasant."
"I killed Zack. There is no we, it's all my fault."
"I dragged you in there," he says, his voice laced with regret. "it's my fault as much as yours, if I never let you walk in there none of this would've happened."
"I decided to go," I said, my voice slightly raised.
More silence follows, so quiet I can hear our quiet breathing, "What are the consequences?" I ask, changing the subject.
"... You don't want to know, Liz."
If I didn't let my selfishness blind me almost four years ago I never would've been in this position and I wouldn't have hurt everyone I care about.
"The name," I pause, looking at Grace's name on top of the pictures, "Did they use blood to write it?"
I drop the topic, not wanting to press onto a subject that might be hard to talk about. I still remember the burns on his back from the water, one's that I never figured out exactly how he got. If they find out a potential member of theirs was killed on their premises during a party that is so important to them I can't even imagine what punishment they'd turn to next. Just then, water might seem more like a gift then a punishment.
"I don't know," he replies.
"I'm really scared," I quietly admitted for the first time, another set of tears starting to form in my eyes as he looked at me with pitiful eyes.
"I know." The way he said it was comforting, softly, gently, but words alone aren't enough to bring me calmness.
I was a fearful child, but I was taught to keep that emotion hidden away because fear meant weakness, and I wasn't allowed to be weak. I was punished for showing fear, even the slightest flash of that emotion in my eyes ended up with some sort of punishment, some more harsh than others.
That fear consumed me for so long, that I drowned in the feeling until I couldn't feel anything anymore. After being punished for so long you learn to hide your emotions so well until you fool yourself into going numb.
But nothing lasts forever, and that numbness turned into pure anger that day I picked up the gun and aimed at him.
I'm scared that my fear will lead to anger once again, and this time I'm scared of who I might pull down with me.
"Please, just take whatever you need so we can leave," he pleads, getting up from the edge of the bed and walking towards my closet.
He opens the small space, picking up the small suitcase that I had shoved at the side of the small space, he opens it up shoving a bunch of clothes into it.
"I already have a suitcase full of clothes," I get up from the bed, wiping away the tears from my flushed face.
"You need more than just one suitcase."
I don't say anything, my eyes finding its way back into the mess that was my room. All I ever wanted was a place that felt safe, I couldn't even get that one thing.
If I never picked up the gun, I wouldn't be here right now.
I hated myself for what I did that night.
As a little kid, I never fully understood why my mother felt so much hate towards me. I couldn't understand why I didn't get the same kind of love Lexi got from her mom, I couldn't understand why I was so unlovable. I felt confused every time I was a little girl holding onto her mom's hand tightly because the only time I felt my mother's hand was when she used to hit me. It used to kill me not knowing why someone who was supposed to love and nourish me, hated me so much.
The older I get the more I realize her hatred towards me, and the day I picked up the gun I felt that same hatred towards myself.
"This isn't your fault, Liz," he looks at me, kneeling on the floor, shoving in as many clothes as the small suitcase can fit, "Stop overthinking it."
I breathe in a sharp breath, my head spinning in response. "It is my fault, everything's my fault."
He doesn't respond at first, a silence so quiet around us I can hear my heart beating against my chest, "I promise we'll figure this out."
I don't say anything in response, I blankly stare at the wall in front of me.
He's been promising that all summer, and yet we are nowhere near close to figuring out Whelve's sudden fascination with me.
I didn't blame him though, it wasn't his fault. Whelve was a huge organization that had connections worldwide, they were smart, and calculated, they planned every move carefully. Their connections led from celebrities to the world of fame and glamor, to the police, lawyers, and government, they had everyone on their side.
They were an organization that trained assassins so well nobody has even noticed it. I always believed that everything had its weak points, but Whelve proved me wrong. I doubt we could ever figure out their motives.
We sat in silence as he packed up the rest of my clothes. The only time he spoke was to tell me he'd be back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff, but I didn't respond.
I was quiet during the short walk from my apartment to his car, he was carrying both of my suitcases with my backpack hanging over his right shoulder as I followed behind him.
I sat quietly in the passenger seat as he placed my stuff in the trunk of his blue car.
I bite the inside of my cheek anxiously, he opens the door to the passenger seat and gets in quietly. He drives out of the parking lot with both hands on the wheel, my hand resting on my thigh as I tap my fingers over the denim jeans,
Once we are out of the parking lot he moves his hand away from the wheel and instead drops it into my hand softly. His hand stays intertwined with mine, resting over my thigh as he draws small lines on my skin.
"Can you play some music?" I break the comfortable silence between us, looking over him as he nods.
I needed something to distract me from the screaming voices inside my head, the silence in the car just added more volume to that.
We stop at a red light, his hand still in mine as the other picks up his phone that is resting over his thigh. The stop light flashes orange, and Wicked Game by Chris Issak starts playing softly from the speakers.
I rest my head on the cold window, the music still playing softly as my eyes glued themselves onto the city outside.
L.A. had its ups and downs, but the city was beyond beautiful during the early mornings, it was almost calming, peaceful even. The way the street lights illuminated the whole city, how empty the streets were at 4 a.m., how peaceful and quiet it all seemed.
"Are you hungry?" He turns to look at me for a quick second before his green eyes turn to the road in front of us again.
I shake my head, not saying anything else. I haven't had food in hours, but with the raging anxiety in my body, the thought of food alone made me feel nauseous.
We spend the rest of the drive in silence, neither one of us having the energy to speak anymore. When we reached his house I had to drag myself out of the car, with his keys in my hand I unlocked the door as he dragged my suitcases behind me, walking inside right after I did.
I close the door behind us, making sure to lock it before I follow him into the guest room I stayed in last time. He places my suitcases by the door, looking at me with tired eyes, parting his lips to say something before I interrupt him.
"Can you stay with me?" I ask, my eyes narrowed at him, "I don't want to be alone." I felt so vulnerable right now, I hated that I had to rely on someone else to feel safe.
"Okay," he responds softly. "Just give me a minute to change."
I nod and he walks out of the door. I kneel on the ground, opening my suitcase to look for some comfortable clothes.
I managed to force myself to change and wash my face, brushing my teeth along the way before I walked out of the guest bathroom and into the comfortable bed.
I lay on my side, my eyes stuck to the window that had a view of the driveway, the sun slowly rising making the sky a pastel pink.
A few minutes passed, and I was sure he changed his mind until I heard the doorknob turn.
His footsteps were silent as he walked over to the bed, barely audible with how quiet he had been the whole time. I couldn't hear him getting close, but I felt the bed slowly sink down as his body laid close to me, pulling the covers over his body.
I flutter my eyes shut, his hand finds its way into my hair where he plays with it softly.
"How can I make you feel better?" He whispers gently, his chin almost leaning on my shoulder with how close he got, "What can I do?"
"Just hold me," I murmur, knowing that no matter what he says my sadness won't calm down. Words can't heal, not in these kinds of moments, but having him close helps.
The covers move slightly as he slides in closer, his arm finding its way over to my waist. His cold hand makes it under my stomach, his fingers moving along my bare stomach softly. He held me tightly, his chest pressed so close to my back that there was no space left between us. He gave my shoulder a single, gentle kiss and my body immediately relaxed into his touch.
It was a blessing to have someone be this tender and gentle during such a cruel time. I haven't felt this kind of comfort from another person in over three years, just Lexi, but what we had was different.
Nobody except him has been able to bring this wave of calmness into my body without even doing much, all he had to do was touch me and the feeling would wash over me.
I can't remember how he went from being somebody that scared me, to being the only person who can bring me peace.
He holds me close, the feeling of his skin on mine so warm and familiar. He holds me tightly and suddenly I feel a little less torn, almost safe; He made me feel safe.
During a time that was so catastrophic, where fear seemed to overrule the rest of my emotions I had him by my side to bring me tranquility. His touch seemed to make that fear go away, I can't explain why or how he just felt like peace.
He was my peace.
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Happy 5K!!! Thank you so much for reading :)
P.S, I'm trying to use my horrible photoshop skills to recreate the look Harry had last chapter on stage... AI isn't working and for some reason Harry's name is blocked on there, hoping that changes soon.