Hollow Hearts (The Harkwright Trilogy)

Okay, I have almost convinced myself that Cole was only being friendly and nothing transpired between us. Almost.

Thoughts of him and what’s coming today kept me up most of the night and I look even more like death than I usually do. Gaunt features, somehow paler skin and deep circles underscoring my eyes.

I jumble some clothes together and jump in the shower, hoping it will wake me up a little. I even have the water on its coldest setting to begin with, but other than making me shriek, it hasn’t done a lot of anything. My thoughts are running rampant as the water battles against my skin. I'm scared but underneath all of that fear is a level of excitement that is surprising me, I’ve always dreamed of getting away from this place but in my dreams it was with my family. I wasn’t selling my soul to the devils of Harkwright, but starting my own chapter in this messed up world and opening up my dream bakery. I’m getting away I guess, but is that really reason enough to explain this tangible excitement that is bubbling under my skin?

Shutting the shower off, I step out, wrapping my worn towel around me and I avoid the mirror as I leave the bathroom.

I enter my room and look down at the clothes I put very little effort in choosing and I’m thinking a top riddled in holes and a pair of ripped jeans -not fashionably so - may not present me in the best way. I don’t know how to do this.

A knocking at the door is sounding in my ear but I’m not going to rea

d too much into it, more than likely it’s the mailman with something too big to fit through our slot. I put my hands on my hips and tap my foot restlessly as I try to figure out a more respectable outfit - that I own. That will be easy… not!

I have a pair of black slacks, and a dark blue blouse but I won’t feel comfortable in that and this may be the last time I get to dress myself in my own clothes. You know what, fuck it I can wear whatever the fuck I want. They don’t own me yet.

My little move of defiance only takes me so far as I slip my feet into my leather ankle boots and oversized sweater, I take a look in my mirror right as the shattering of a glass fills the air. I run out of my room, my heartbeat already erratic, and it has nothing to do with the sudden jolt of exercise. Taking the stairs two at a time, I find my mother holding a hand against her chest and tears rolling down her cheeks. Looking past her, I can see a mountain of a man standing in the doorway, taking me in with more interest than I appreciate and I can already feel that I’m going into myself.

“Mom,” it comes out weak and almost childish, to my ears at least. Her eyes are filled with so much pain that my lungs constrict and for the second time in the space of a week I rush to her side and throw my arms around her.

She clings to me like I’m her lifeline and she’ll plummet into an unforgiving ocean if she ever lets go. The Mountain clears his throat, but it resonates like a growl to my ears and a shiver passes down my spine.

I can’t meet his eyes but my mother has no trouble doing it. I can see the defiance in the set of her jaw and the straightening of her spine, but it’s pointless.

“No warning, I don’t even get to enjoy breakfast with my baby before you take her out of my life. You and your bosses are sick and I can't wait for the day that you get brought down.”

“Your ‘baby’ made this choice Mrs. Carter, no one forced her into it. As for your opinion, that's yours and yours alone,” he thrusts paper at her and she releases me to grab it.

I already know what it is, an NDA. So nobody knows where I’ve gone, sworn to secrecy so no one will ever know where her daughter is and what may happen to her. She’ll have no one to lean on or to support her, it never occurred to me just how hard this would be on her.

She storms into the kitchen and comes back in a few moments before slapping the signed document against his chest, he doesn’t even flinch.

“I can give you ten minutes, then we need to leave. Do not make me come back in to get her,” his eyes cut to me, I still can’t look at him but I can feel his stare like a brand on my skin.

He leaves and mom is ushering me into the kitchen and guiding me to a chair, as if I’m incapable of doing these things. But she’s barely holding it together and I can’t bring myself to argue it with her, whatever she needs to do to make it a little easier for herself.

“I will miss you Luna bean and I know you think you need to do this, but I’m going to pray my heart out that they do not select you.”

Her back is to me but I can see the way her shoulders are shaking and hear the tears in her voice, this is killing me.

“I know mom, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve messed up, I just hope you can forgive me one day,” my voice is cracking under the strain of my emotions and she places a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs before me before taking her own seat.

“There is nothing to forgive my sweet girl, I’m not happy about this and I don’t even understand it. But I’ve raised you to make your own decisions and I won’t try to rob you of that right now, just stay safe and don’t lose yourself along the way,” our eyes lock and a million moments pass between us in a few seconds. Our past we’ve shared, the joys, heartache and anger. The strongest thing though, is the love. That alone will help me stay strong and make it through this. My body may be theirs but my heart and soul belong to me.

I watch through the car window as my mom white knuckles the door frame, I can’t help placing my palm against the window and wishing I could run back to her, close the door and forget I ever did any of this.

“You may not even get chosen, all this sentimental drivel is pointless until the selection process is completed,” my eyes cut to the rear-view mirror and lock onto a pair of eyes the color of steel gray before I look back out the window and watch all the buildings pass us by.

“Do I make you nervous little Snowflake?”

Seriously, a nickname. Just fuck off, if only I could say that out loud.

My eyes cut to him again before taking in the driver, I don’t even understand why this guy is here.

“Not one for conversation, fair enough. Just remember it’s a long drive and this may be the only time you can have a semblance of normality, but it's your choice,” he isn’t even smiling, just staring straight ahead. His eyes don’t leave the driver and I can’t help but wonder why he is so transfixed by him.

“Why do you want to talk and why are you even here?” I sound so rude and that isn’t like me, I can feel the shame washing over me like a second skin.

“I’m here to make sure the driver doesn’t do or say anything he shouldn’t. As for talking, I don’t socialize a lot with my job and you're here. It’s proximity, nothing more.”