Page 64 of Healing Souls

“She said just a minute five minutes ago,” he mumbles, defeated.

The door swings open so fast that Ry has to grab the frame to keep from falling straight onto Harley, who crosses her arms and raises a brow at him. “Five minutes? Really?”

I chuckle, and Ry just groans. “It was too long. Do you know how much today sucked? Babe, I was dying all day. You didn’t even text me back,” he whines.

Harley fights a smile and shakes her head, turning around and walking back into her room. She sits on the edge of her bed and stares down at her feet. “If it makes it any better, today sucked for me too,” she says quietly.

Ry looks at me, and then we both go and sit on either side of her. Ry, being much more confident than I am, grabs her hand, but Harley quickly pulls it away.

I frown. Considering she has held our hands before, it just seems odd, but then Ryker is standing in front of her and yanking her arm out from where she shoved her hand in between her knees.

“Ry—” I start, but then I see her hand; there are four scrapes on her knuckles, and one is still bleeding slightly. It looks like she punched a wall or something.

“What the fuck happened, Harley?” Ryker demands as he inspects her hand.

“Nothing. It’s not a big deal,” she mutters.

Feeling useless, especially by her defeated sounding tone and the way she won’t meet our eyes, I get up and head towards her bathroom. “I’ll get a first-aid kit. There should be one in here.”

“No!” Harley yells and jumps up, but Ryker easily blocks her path.

“No what?” I ask.

“It’s fine. I already cleaned it up,” she lies, refusing to meet my eyes.

“It’s still bleeding, Harley.”

“I said it’s fine! Get out of my way, Ryker! Or better yet, get out!” she yells.

Ryker wraps his arms around her even as she flinches and tries to pull away, but he just holds her tighter. In a gruff voice, like he is holding back how he’s feeling, Ry says, “Check the bathroom, Grayson.”

I open the bathroom door and immediately suck in a breath. The mirror is still up on the wall above the vanity, but it is cracked and missing pieces, and you can see right where someone was punching it.

“Ryker,” I whisper in horror, almost unable to believe my eyes.

Ryker walks into the bathroom, still holding onto a now crying Harley. He looks over the mirror and then glances at Harley before shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opens them, he releases her but immediately cups her cheeks and angles her head up to look him in the eyes.

“Why, little flame? Tell us what’s going through that head of yours,” Ry murmurs.

Harley shuts her eyes, and I just know that whatever she is going to say, it might be the truth, but it definitely won’t be the full truth. “I was just really angry and needed something to get the anger out.”

Ryker lets out a grunt that has her eyes snapping open to meet his. “I don’t think that’s all of it. Is it, Harley?” He moves his hands to her shoulders and spins her around, stepping up so his front is flush with her back. He moves to the side, causing her to have to move so they are lined up with the mirror.

Right in front of the broken pieces. Directly in front of Harley’s face. Harley drops her eyes and stares at the counter, but Ryker tsks and grips her chin, pulling her face back up to look at her broken reflection.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispers.

“I told you that we’re here for you. That you could trust us. This is me proving that point. You can’t scare me away. You can’t scareusaway. We see you. So you were angry. But why did that mean you had to punch your own reflection? Little flame, you are allowed to be angry. But never at yourself.”

She huffs, “But it’s my mind that keeps pissing me off. I can’t think straight. I feel like I’m going insane half the time. Or… or like I'm failing my mom.” Tears fall down her cheeks as she stares straight into her own eyes through the broken mirror. “I’m proving Tammy right. That I’m weak.”

I step up next to them and face Harley. Giving her a soft smile when she glances up at me, I say, “You are so far from weak. Maybe you don’t see that right now. Maybe with everything swirling around in your mind, it makes you feel weak. But how can you be weak when you’re standing here? When you have gotten to where you are? How is that weakness?”

“It’s not,” Ryker assures her. “It’s strength. It’s fucking bravery. You just need outlets. You need to work through what’s going on inside of you.”

Harley wipes the tears from her eyes and steps away from Ryker so she can turn around and face both of us. “I used to go to the gym when I lived with Bri. I loved going. That and running.” She lets out a small chuckle, “Okay, well, I really hate running, but it did help a lot. I just… I can’t go to your gym because it’s in a basement and it just—”

“It reminds you of Tammy’s?” I ask, finishing for her.

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