the floor.
“Help me. Please.”
“Back away from the door.” Adam’s tone was nothing short of desperate. He kicked hard and the door bowed, but didn’t give.
Harmony’s hand fell to her side. The bent and dripping blade hit the floor.
Adam grunted, let out a guttural howl and kicked again, this time hard enough that it splintered the jamb and sent the door crashing into the wall behind it. The knob buried itself in the drywall.
Harmony was on her side, transfixed by her tattoo: Summerland.
“I’m ready,” she said and went limp.
Adam dropped to his knees by her side. “What did you do?”
His hands were hot on her cool, damp skin. She was clammy and sweating. He wrapped towels around her wounds to tourniquet the bleeding.
“Please, please don’t take me to the hospital. Please.” Her words were slow, pained, and pathetic. She was in and out only long enough to think about what the doctors and Adam would say: “self-inflicted” and “suicide attempt.” Words that would get her hospitalized, medicated, and worse.
Adam lifted her from the floor and carried her near-lifeless body into the bedroom. She couldn’t even hold on to him. She could only watch him cry.
“Harmony, I…”
“Please.” She closed her eyes and felt her weight sink into the bed.
“Harmony, wake up. Come on, baby. Wake up. Look at me.” He shook her and patted her cheeks.
She opened her eyes, but couldn’t focus. She was mentally shut down. Not unconscious, but apart from reality and unwilling to join him.
17 .
Harmony woke up to the sensation of tape tugging her skin. Adam had cleaned her cuts and put steri-strips on the worst of them. The others he dressed with gauze before dressing her in one of his oversized sweatshirts.
He was sitting on the end of the bed and looked like he was waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he handed her a bottle of water. “Can I get you anything else?”
An exorcism, she thought, but shook her head “no.” Maybe Brea was right. Maybe contacting Tom did make things worse. She thought about their fight and needed to apologize.
“Actually, will you hand me my purse?” She pointed at the camouflage bag on the floor next to the dresser.
“Harmony, I think you should rest…”
“I didn’t ask what you thought.” Harmony was about to stand up when he held out his hand to stop her.
“I got it.” He set the bag down on the bed next to her and she saw right away that the zipper was zipped. She never did that because two of the teeth were broken and the thing stuck like crazy. He’d gone through it and not very slyly.
“Where’s my cell?” She rummaged through the papers, pens, empty cigarette packs, and crumpled money.
“I, uh…” He chewed his thin lower lip.
“What did you do with my phone, Adam? It’s not in here.” She pulled on a pair of hole-in-the-knee jeans and went out to the kitchen.
“Harmony, you need to relax. You shouldn’t be up in your condition.”
“What the hell does that mean? My only condition is pissed. You had no right going through my stuff.” She picked up the pieces of her prepaid off the counter. “Where’s the battery?”
Adam leaned against the counter. “I’m not letting you call him.”
Harmony suppressed the urge to throw something at him. “Him who? What are you talking about?”
“Lance, Harmony. Do you think I don’t know where the drugs come from?” He held up the old aspirin bottle that was normally stashed in her purse and shook out two pills of ecstasy. “You need help.”
She scrambled for the pills and he put them down the garbage disposal, instantly hitting the switch. The blades chewed and the sink drain swallowed the last of her stash.
“Hey!”
“A joint now and again, I can forgive. But that ? No way.”
She pushed his hand off the switch. “I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you anything.”
“You have to stop this. I’m trying to help
“Help me. Please.”
“Back away from the door.” Adam’s tone was nothing short of desperate. He kicked hard and the door bowed, but didn’t give.
Harmony’s hand fell to her side. The bent and dripping blade hit the floor.
Adam grunted, let out a guttural howl and kicked again, this time hard enough that it splintered the jamb and sent the door crashing into the wall behind it. The knob buried itself in the drywall.
Harmony was on her side, transfixed by her tattoo: Summerland.
“I’m ready,” she said and went limp.
Adam dropped to his knees by her side. “What did you do?”
His hands were hot on her cool, damp skin. She was clammy and sweating. He wrapped towels around her wounds to tourniquet the bleeding.
“Please, please don’t take me to the hospital. Please.” Her words were slow, pained, and pathetic. She was in and out only long enough to think about what the doctors and Adam would say: “self-inflicted” and “suicide attempt.” Words that would get her hospitalized, medicated, and worse.
Adam lifted her from the floor and carried her near-lifeless body into the bedroom. She couldn’t even hold on to him. She could only watch him cry.
“Harmony, I…”
“Please.” She closed her eyes and felt her weight sink into the bed.
“Harmony, wake up. Come on, baby. Wake up. Look at me.” He shook her and patted her cheeks.
She opened her eyes, but couldn’t focus. She was mentally shut down. Not unconscious, but apart from reality and unwilling to join him.
17 .
Harmony woke up to the sensation of tape tugging her skin. Adam had cleaned her cuts and put steri-strips on the worst of them. The others he dressed with gauze before dressing her in one of his oversized sweatshirts.
He was sitting on the end of the bed and looked like he was waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he handed her a bottle of water. “Can I get you anything else?”
An exorcism, she thought, but shook her head “no.” Maybe Brea was right. Maybe contacting Tom did make things worse. She thought about their fight and needed to apologize.
“Actually, will you hand me my purse?” She pointed at the camouflage bag on the floor next to the dresser.
“Harmony, I think you should rest…”
“I didn’t ask what you thought.” Harmony was about to stand up when he held out his hand to stop her.
“I got it.” He set the bag down on the bed next to her and she saw right away that the zipper was zipped. She never did that because two of the teeth were broken and the thing stuck like crazy. He’d gone through it and not very slyly.
“Where’s my cell?” She rummaged through the papers, pens, empty cigarette packs, and crumpled money.
“I, uh…” He chewed his thin lower lip.
“What did you do with my phone, Adam? It’s not in here.” She pulled on a pair of hole-in-the-knee jeans and went out to the kitchen.
“Harmony, you need to relax. You shouldn’t be up in your condition.”
“What the hell does that mean? My only condition is pissed. You had no right going through my stuff.” She picked up the pieces of her prepaid off the counter. “Where’s the battery?”
Adam leaned against the counter. “I’m not letting you call him.”
Harmony suppressed the urge to throw something at him. “Him who? What are you talking about?”
“Lance, Harmony. Do you think I don’t know where the drugs come from?” He held up the old aspirin bottle that was normally stashed in her purse and shook out two pills of ecstasy. “You need help.”
She scrambled for the pills and he put them down the garbage disposal, instantly hitting the switch. The blades chewed and the sink drain swallowed the last of her stash.
“Hey!”
“A joint now and again, I can forgive. But that ? No way.”
She pushed his hand off the switch. “I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you anything.”
“You have to stop this. I’m trying to help
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