Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
She nods, wiping her eyes as she puts on a fake confidence that I can see right through. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Okay, Harley,” I say softly. “One day, you’ll find your own happiness, and when you do, I want you to tell me all about it, okay?”
She stands up, looking at me with a mixture of affection and determination. “I will, I promise. Goodnight, Hadrian.”
“Goodnight, Harley,” I reply, watching her leave.
As the door closes behind her, I feel a sense of relief mixed with a deep, aching sadness. I know I’ve done the right thing, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I bury my face in my hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
The next couple of weeks are a struggle. I throw myself into my work, trying to keep my mind off Harley. But she’s always there in my thoughts. A constant reminder of what I can’t have.
One afternoon, as I’m leaving the study, I run into her in the hallway. She’s carrying a stack of books, and I can see the strain on her face. Without thinking, I step forwards to help her.
“Let me take those,” I say, reaching for the books.
“Thanks,” she replies, handing them to me.
We walk together to her room, the silence between us heavy with unspoken emotions. As I set the books down on her desk, she looks at me, her eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something forbidden.
“Thank you, Hadrian,” she says softly.
“Anytime,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion.
She steps closer, her eyes searching mine. “I miss talking to you.”
“I miss it too,” I admit, feeling a pang of longing.
“Can we be friends?” she asks, her voice tentative.
I take a deep breath, knowing how dangerous it is but unable to deny her. “Yes, we can be friends. But we have to be careful.”
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can do careful.”
“Good,” I say, my heart aching with the effort it takes to keep my distance.
We stand there for a moment, the air between us charged with emotion. Then I step back, giving her a reassuring smile. “Goodnight, Harley.”
“Goodnight, Hadrian,” she replies, her eyes lingering on mine.
As I walk away, I feel a sense of hope mixed with fear. I know that being friends is a risky move, but it’s the best I can offer her.
I just hope I’m strong enough to keep my promise—to protect her, even it’s from myself.
THREE
HARLEY
Sixteen Years Old
I try to see Hadrian as often as I can. The twins spend a lot of time with my father. Their meetings are frequently held behind closed doors, and I’m not entirely sure what it is they talk about, but some nights, when the brothers return to the house, they’re splattered in blood.
I know what my father does for a living, but I’m still shocked when I see evidence of the violence so close to home. In truth, I rarely think about the organisation. All my focus is on my schoolwork, and when Hadrian and I do have a natter, it’s usually about me and my future studies and dreams. He never talks about his own life, but the last time we had a heart-to-heart, I could see the sadness in Hadrian’s eyes. His past hasn’t been easy, that much is obvious.
I find myself making excuses to be wherever Hadrian is. Even when he’s drinking pints with his brother in the garden, I’m there, wanting to be close to him. There’s a sense of calm about Hadrian, and my thoughts often drift to him, wondering what he’s doing and what he’s thinking.
Hades seems to have warmed to me. He’s started offering me a smile and greeting every time he sees me. I wonder, deep down, if he knows what I feel for his brother. I don’t think I’ve made it that obvious, but who knows how perceptive he is. If he works for my da, then he must be able to read people.
One afternoon, I’m sitting in the library, trying to study but finding it hard to focus, when I hear footsteps approaching. I look up to see Hadrian standing in the doorway.
“Hi,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Are ya busy? Can I come in?”
“Aye, come in,” I reply, feeling my heart skip a beat. “I’m not really concentrating on this homework right now.”
He walks over to the table I’m working at and takes a seat opposite me, his presence filling the room. “What subject are you studying?”
“It’s probably my worst subject to be fair,” I say, trying not to sound too despondent. “Which is why I can’t concentrate on it.”
“Mind if I take a look?” he asks, leaning forwards.
“Sure,” I say, pushing my books towards him.
He scans my notes, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Science, huh? It’s a tough subject, but it’s fascinating once ya get the hang of it.”