Witness

“Now I’m never going to be able to get rid of you,” I sighed teasingly as Harry dropped me off at my front door. “I’m literally going to be at your fingertips all the time and you’re never going to be able to shut up, are you?”

We’d just driven to Crewe to buy me a British cell phone, as per Harry’s request. It was like I actually had a life to live again – people who wanted to call me (albeit being only Harry, Mary, and my dearest old boss Nicholas), a furnished home to come back to, a job to work at night. And suddenly, most suddenly, a boy to kiss and to maybe go on dates with and be entirely stupid with whilst figuring out what the fuck was going on between us.

What the fuck was going on between us?

“I do my best thinking at night,” Harry taunted thoughtfully, giving me a suave smile. “Usually between the hours of two and three. You’ll be the first person I call.”

I rolled my eyes before returning the smile, sitting on the wrong side of the car, as I’d come to know of my time in taxis. Harry’s mom’s luxurious car, matching a similar one parked in the garage, as a matter of fact. I was sitting on mob money. It was the first time I’d ever had a car in my one-stall garage, just another milestone for my little life. Who knew, maybe one day I’d learn to drive.

Or maybe I would just continue to spend the majority of my time lying on the floor of my living room. That sounded like the more feasible option.

“Perfect, I’ll already be up watching your house to see if any mob activity is going on,” I countered. “I swear I’ll catch her yet, Styles.”

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “Please, Lilia, my mother is a saint,” he insisted, leaning forward on the center console with his elbow.

“That’s what she wants me to think,” I insisted, leaning forward so my face was only an inch from his with the meanest scowl I could muster. “I still haven’t seen this mysterious step-father of yours either. My theory is that he’s spending time learning spy shit from the Russians. Or maybe in high security prison for crimes against Her Majesty. My theory also includes an epic fight between him and James Bond. I’m actually doing him a favor, really.”

Harry laughed, revealing two rows of criminally perfect teeth. “Let’s try and maintain a little mystery in all this shall we? I’ll see you after work, maybe?”

“If you don’t decide to jet off to Japan before then,” I grumbled grouchily.

“I’m actually scheduled to be in Prague, but I think they’ll understand. I’ll see you later.”

He pulled away with a little wink, placing his hands back on the wheel. I took that as my cue to exit the car. And as I watched him pull out of the driveway and pull back into his, I couldn’t help but smile. Messing with Harry was way too fun.

It also didn’t hurt that he was an awesome kisser and super easy on the eyes.

But he didn’t kiss me, and what the hell did that mean? Did it mean anything? Would he rather just kiss me tonight after we hang out? Would he want to get drinks after work or something asinine like that, or would absolutely nothing change and we would watch bad T.V. at my house instead? Would I ever be able to figure out why I cared so much about this?

I went inside and called work to let them know I’d gotten a cellphone. I proceeded to talk to Mary for a while because she’d picked up the dead-empty morning shift and god damn it, I was kind of excited to use my new piece of technology. I was feeling rather savvy as I downloaded organizational apps and a few of the stupid games – hell, maybe I would even get an Instagram and refrain from taking selfies – while watching When Harry Met Sally.

I don’t care if I was an aspiring screenwriter. Nora Ephron movies are damn good movies, alright?
A text popped up from a number that I didn’t recognize, but knew had to be Harry. My suspicions were confirmed when I scanned over the cheeky contents of the message, rolling my eyes while giving up a small smile.

Should have kissed you goodbye. Typical idiot me. I’ll make up for it tonight, promise xx

I could have swooned. And then punched myself in the face for it. Who was I, falling for all the suave bullshit of chatty neighbor Harry? For the big beautiful eyes and wide, friendly smiles, the late nights drinking beers of my couch and the ignorant disappearances? How could I just forgive him like that?

Because he was an awesome kisser, drop dead handsome, and an amazing friend otherwise. Because every time his skin grazed mine, every hair on my skin stood on end. Because he drove me fucking insane and I loved every minute of it.

“But Thomas,” I groaned to myself, wrapping my body up in a blanket before laying down more fully on the couch to stare more effectively at the ceiling. I think I spent more time staring at the ceiling of my living room those days than I did doing anything else. It was one of the few ways left I had to clear my head.

Harry was the exact opposite of Thomas. He was engaging and funny and genuinely cared about me, about my well-being. Thomas loved me, I knew it still, but we were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. In the grand scheme of things, we fit into the same picture… just not together. And I’d had a month to accept it. And finally, I thought I could be moving on. Forgetting those silly blue eyes, the birth mark on his cheek, the way his eyebrows curved when he was focusing on his art.

Forgetting the last year of my life. Forgetting Thomas.

The prodding kisses of Harry’s lips didn’t hurt, either.

I smiled at the thought of him kissing me over and over again in the hallway until finally we had to go back to our table, then stealing knowing glances at each other as we ate our dinner. Neither of us won anything with the raffle, but it seemed like neither of us really cared. We’d found something greater than assorted grilling supplies or a basket of cheeses. We’d somehow managed to find each other.

I fell asleep to that thought, and I was back in New York, the same way I was every time I fell asleep. This dream was more vivid than the ones before it, putting me right back where I was that night of August 21st.

The alley wasn’t the same as it was in reality, but his voice was the same and clear as a bell. I watched from around the corner, holding my breath until I felt I would die of suffocation, as I watched Damien pull out poor Eric Spengler’s teeth one by one as the agent squirmed beneath him.

But suddenly, a strain of some watered down version of a hipster song Thomas would have liked began playing in my ears, ringing loudly as though the notes were embedded in my eardrums. I was running out of breath, waiting for it all to be over so I could breathe again. Waiting for Damien to notice me, kill me, and pull my teeth out too.

But that wasn’t how the story ended and I knew that. As soon as I realized I was dreaming, I tried my hardest to pull myself from my slumber. I could feel the blanket on me, the ceiling fan in my room oscillating loudly, a vibrating pulsing from the coffeetable. I slapped myself in the face, trying to wake myself up, but all I could see was Damien turning to face me, his mouth red and dripping with blood.

And finally, with a gasp of air, I awoke, just in the knick of time.

I sat heaving in straggling gasps of breath, trying to get a hold of myself in the real world again. My phone was rining and I almost reached to throw it across the wall in fear. But then I looked at the number and saw something I didn’t expect. It was a New York number.

Immediately I lunged for it, pressing the button to answer with greedy fingers. It was the number from the O.E.O. office. Maybe, finally some good news. But how…?

“Hello?” I exclaimed into the receiver.

“Lilia George, it’s Agent Hudson. I need to ask you to stop what you’re doing and speak directly to me with your entire focus. Can you do that?”

My heart stopped in my chest. What the hell was going on?

“Yes,” I breathed. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” the agent stated in his flat voice, nearly being drowned out by the sound of my pulse ringing internally. “There has been an incident. Another life has been put in danger by Damien Trask and I’m urging that you take this news as calmly as possible. Can you do that for me?”

I felt the tears well in my eyes, fearful and panicked. “Yes, sir,” I murmured through a wavering voice. “I’m trying to remain as calm as possible. Please just tell me what’s going on.”

There was a pause on the line, a bought of hysterical sobs just barely making it through to my end. “Amelia Lucette has been compromised. Though we moved her to a new location in New York for her protection, Trask showed up at the apartment and attempted to take her life.”

The tears welling in my eyes turned into full blown sobs, my breath catching as I tried to get a hold of myself, as I tried to be brave. Not Amelia. Anyone but Amelia.

“Is she okay, Hudson?” I demanded in the strongest tone I could muster. “You need to tell me she’s okay!”

“She managed to get out onto the fire escape and hide in another apartment while calling the authorities for help,” he clarified. “She’s with me now. Unfortunately, Trask got away before we were able to make an arrest.”

I could have melted onto the couch, my hand now quaking weakly around the phone pressed to my ear. Damien was still on the loose. And he’d made an attempt to kill my best friend, my only family left in the city. The person I truly wished I could have gotten to say goodbye to. The one who had been left without any answers.

“I need to speak with her,” I implored urgently. “I need to speak with her now. Put her on the line.”

And before the agent could say anything more, I heard a shuffling on the line before the more audible hysterics of the sobs belonging to my best friend.

“Mara!” her voice gasped hurriedly, breaking with tears. It had been a long time since I’d heard that name. And Amelia, sweet, quiet Amelia. Thoughtful, artistic Amelia. My best friend.

“Amelia!” I sobbed, wishing I could reach through the phone and hug her. “Amelia, oh god I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this.”

At the same time, Amelia had begun to blubber into the phone about all the confusion, her voice going right over my apologies. “I don’t know what’s going on, all of a sudden this guy was in my apartment and he was trying to kill me, you disappeared out of nowhere and I haven’t heard from you in weeks and suddenly I’m at this office and they’re telling me he tried to kill you too and you’re in witness protection and soon I’m going to be in witness protection too because he’s dangerous and wanted and oh my god I can’t leave New York, I can’t leave my family – “

“Amelia!” I yelled forcefully through my tears. “Amelia I need you to CALM DOWN. It’s all going to be okay, okay? I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I wish he would have never brought you into this.”
“I’m so scared, Mar,” she sobbed. “I wish I knew that this was going on all along, I would have just come with you. And they’re telling me you’re so far away and have this whole new life and soon I’ll be joining you…”

My heartbeat picked up again. Amelia would be joining me in Holmes Chapel? My best friend was going to be relocated to my new town, right within my grasp? I was going to have my best friend back. I was going to have someone to talk to about everything, someone who knew what I was going through. Though I wouldn’t have wished the situation on her in a million years, everything was going to be okay.

“It’s going to be okay, Amelia, I promise,” I insisted. “We’re going to be safe here, I promise. We’re so far away from all of that, and it’s going to be virtually impossible for him to get to us. There is no way he’s going to get on a plane, okay? We’re going to be okay here until they catch him. You’re going to have me, alright? We’re going to be okay until they catch him.”

And suddenly Amelia was in hysterics and there was a shuffling on the line. “No!” I could hear her screaming off the line. “No, I need to talk to her! Let me talk to her!”

“Amelia!” I cried, sobbing into my hands. “It’s going to be okay!”

I yelled as loud as I could, hoping my voice could be heard in the hustle, but soon Hudson was back on the line and the sound in the background fell silent. Amelia must have been removed from the room.
“Take care of her, Hudson,” I demanded, heaving an ugly, deep breath. “You get her here safe, you understand?”

Agent Hudson sighed. “You know as well as I do, it’ll be a few days for it all to process,” he stated calmly. “And unfortunately, she will not be joining you in your location. It’s too dangerous. We’ll keep you updated on her status. But for now, remain calm. She is safe in agent hands. And with Trask’s appearance, we’re back on his trail. This will be over soon. Remain calm, Miss George. I’ll call you soon.”

After a numb moment, I called Red Lion to get someone else to take my shift, and apparently Mary already offered before I even called. The ceiling then became my only solace again, the blank quality fighting to clear my mind. Amelia had been put in danger and it was all my fault. And there was nothing I could do for now.

So I called Harry, because the fear was back and he was my lighthouse in the stormy harbor. And he brought over a Sophia Coppola movie because he knew she was a good director of some sort and thought I might like her (I actually loved her, but there was no way of him knowing that). And I put on a brave face and cuddled up with Harry because it was all I could do.

All I could do was wait.

The same way Damien was waiting for me.