Page 36 of The Shadows We Keep

This was not how I imagined today playing out.

My anger at Harkin wanes as I watch the screaming match in front of me play out. Hands are waving through the air. They look seconds away from throwing punches. I step between them quelling the scene for a moment.

“Enough!” I yell at them. Marco has no business getting involved. I assumed Sal would be the only one in the pizza shop. “I just need my spare key.” My eyes drift to the register as I nod in that direction, hoping Marco will get the hint. But he’s too busy staring between me and Harkin.

I roll my eyes and march toward the counter, ready to get the key myself, but Harkin pulls me back and over to the side door to the apartment entrance. His other hand holds up my small crossbody and shoes. That’s why it took him so long to catch up to me.

I want to snatch my belongings away from him, but the look he gives me knocks the wind from my lungs. He might not be yelling anymore, but the tick in his jaw lets me know he’s still fuming under his quiet demeanor.

His fingers interlace with mine tightly. I try to pull free, but we’re stuck together, and he refuses to lessen his hold. I could fight him, but what would that get me? A bigger scene in front of Marco, giving him more of a reason to try to intervene. That’s the last thing I want, instead I let him pull me through the side door. He heads up the stairs, dragging me along back to my place. But then we’re standing in front of my apartment, and I have no intention of letting him come in. After all the theatrics and commotion downstairs, I need time to decompress.

Too bad for me, he doesn’t agree. Once the door’s unlocked, he shoves his way past and walks in like he owns the damn place. He doesn’t even stop to wait for me to close and re-lock the door, he just makes his way down the hall into my living room. He drops the rest of my stuff on the kitchen counter and turns to stare me down. His fists clench at his sides.

I slowly tread in his direction, stopping a few feet away. “What do you think you’re doing?” I’m so overwhelmed by his unwarranted behavior I’m getting whip lash. He was playful on the couch, but my temper got the best of me, and I did what I do best—run.

His playfulness disappeared completely downstairs. I’ve never seen him act like that and it’s just another reminder of how little I know about this man in front of me, even after years of watching his life through a screen. Now I’m standing before him, that anger still courses through his veins, and I’m not sure if I’m going to get the playful Harkin from earlier or that madman from downstairs.

SEVENTEEN

HARKIN

Silhouette Pushloop Remix – Leon Switch, Truth, Lelijveld, Pushloop

What am I doing?

What the hell did she thinkshewas doing, running from my apartment in nothing but my shirt? No shoes, no purse, no panties. I fume at the realization. How far did she think she’d get? Seeing her throwing all reason out the window and run like her life depended on it, left me no choice but to take chase.

“Who is he?” The only thing I really need answers to at this point.

“Who?” Her voice is small, drawn in.

“The man downstairs who seems to think he has some sort of claim on you.”

Like anyone else could have you but me.

Her eyes fall to the ground, but she doesn’t answer me. Instead, she walks toward the couch and plops down, throwing an arm over her eyes as she lays back and props her feet over the arm.

“Just go Harkin, I’m done.” She sounds like it, too. I’m quickly distracted from her plea by the smooth skin of her upper thighs now exposed from my shirt riding up. I’m not going anywhere.

Her face tilts in my direction, an eye peeking out behind her arm, checking the status of my departure. “Fine, suit yourself,” she snaps at me, ever the feisty temptress, before she rolls into the couch back and tucks her legs toward her body.

I use her dismissal to my advantage and take in her apartment now that I’m not sneaking through it. It’s small and old. You can tell she does her best to keep it looking nice— well, as nice as possible with the dingy wallpaper and yellowed laminate counters. It all sticks out because there’s not much to her space. No girly throw pillows or pictures with unnecessary phrases like—LIVE.LAUGH.LOVEon the walls.

I drop onto the couch beside her and reach up to pull a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes are closed, but my gentle movement makes her grin.

“Just tell me,” I try again.

Her whole body heaves an exaggerated sigh. She doesn’t shift in my direction or turn to look at me. “Why does it matter? He’s no one, Harkin.”

A no one wouldn’t have reacted the way he did downstairs, like they have some sort of history built up between them. “He was ready to knock my lights out. He’s either a scorned ex-lover or a brother of sorts. Just tell me which, so I know how to handle him.”

“God, you’re so annoying,” she whispers under her breath before her body pushes upward. She quickly tucks her feet under herself so she’s kneeling on the couch next to me. I lean back, adjusting into a more comfortable position, and wait for her explanation.

“He’s literally nobody to me. He’s my landlord’s son. The landlord also owns the pizza place downstairs, hence him always being around. He picks up my rent and drops off packages occasionally. I try to keep him out of my apartment.” She pauses and picks at her nails. I stiffen. I’ll go down there right now and finish what we almost started.

Her hand falls to my knee and she squeezes. “Nothing’s happened.” Her eyes soften when she looks up at me. “He’s just handsy if he gets the chance. I’ve shot him down more times than I can count, but I need this apartment. It’s cheaper than anything I can afford in this area of the city, even with multiple roommates.”

Her clarification does little to snuff out my outrage, but I’ll push it down and save it for another time when I can deal with herlittle problemmyself. She must see the shift in my attitude because she climbs onto me, straddling my lap. Her hands clasp the sides of my face, ensuring my focus.

---