The Perfect Machine: Kingdom Of Glass (GxG

37. How is that not painful

"River?" I hear my name being called softly, but tiredness is daunting.

"River?" My eyes slightly open, finding a pair of black eyes looking down at me — all I want to do was to draw her in for a close embrace.

"We're here," She says, which makes me sit straight in my seat to stretch out. I clean the fog off the window, seeing my parents poorly maintained house next to the road. It looks the same as when I left months ago. With enthusiasm, I open the door.

"No," Harlow says, stopping my hand and shutting the door. I turn to her in anger.

"Let me go first," Harlow suggests. I sigh as I drop into my seat, but I understand the situation. Maybe there's someone monitoring. Harlow sends me the one final glance before she gets out of the car.

She throws the hoodie up to cover her head as she runs across the street and knocks on the door. A minute later, someone opens it, and I shift around in my seat to get a glimpse to see who it is. Then Harlow forces a guy out the entrance, and he falls to the pavement.

The man pulls out a pistol and I rush to open the door. Yet, before I can exit the vehicle, a shot is fired.

"No!" I scream, but then I see that Harlow pulled the weapon out of his grasp.

"Harlow!" I roar, but it only makes me snatch the attention of the man behind Harlow. He targets me with his gun. I close my eyes and bend to the sound of the gun going off. My heart rises, but I don't feel anything strike me. My eyes open wide as my heart is pounding in my ears.

Harlow placed her hand in front of the weapon to turn it to point up in the air. The man faces Harlow trembles in terror as she takes the pistol out of his grasp. She smashes the firearm in his face and he falls to the ground next to his mate.

I'm about to stand up on my way to Harlow, but she lifts her hand to stop me, exposing the blood on her hand. She's injured, yet then I witness her vanish inside my home.

The shouting, screaming, and firing of guns make my gut churn and curl with discomfort and concern. I want to go in, but I know that Harlow wouldn't let me go risk my life. I don't have the skillset she's got.

I turn to the vehicle to see Arthur looking nervous. Mary is trying to keep Harry away from the windows to shield him. Not long after I see a couple come racing down the driveway, holding on to each other.

"Mom? Dad?" I say, walking cautiously toward them.

"River!" Both of them shout, rushing towards me and throw their arms around me. I hold them close.

"Who in the world was that woman who came into our home?" My father asks, and I take a step away from them, feeling a little flushed in my cheeks. Harlow is heading out of the house now.

"It's Harlow. She's here to help," I smile at them, but they don't seem too impressed.

"Do you have any idea what she did to them in there?" My mother's body is quivering and her eyes are expanding with dread.

"She's not a bad person, Mom. She had to do what she had to do," I protect her, but that doesn't seem to relieve her anxiety.

"Are you all right?" My father asks, and I smile, pulling both of them in for an embrace again.

"We've got to go," Harlow states, keeping herself at a distance. I have the impression that she may have overheard what my parents said about her. I walk my parents to the ride and sit in the back seat between my parents.

Harlow locks the door behind her, and right now, Arthur is heading away from the scene we've made.

"Do you have some paper towels or something?" Harlow asks Mary, who smiles and looks through her little purse.

"Here," Mary picks up the paper, and Harlow takes it into her bloody hand and wraps it around the other hand.

"What's wrong?" Mary asks Harlow, but she waves it off. Then Mary looks back at me as if I've got the solution, but I don't. I lean forward to Harlow.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing, I'm all right," Harlow answers, agitated. She faces the window, hiding with the hoodie over her head. I try to grab her wrist, but she slips it out of my grasp. We're always struggling like this, but I end up dropping back to my seat in defeat. I grit my teeth.

"What's wrong?" My mother asks me, putting her arm around mine.

"I don't know," I say, but I'm too stubborn to give up as I push myself forward again.

"Harlow, please," I beg her, and she turns to me a moment later. She seems a little upset with me right now. However, on the point of giving in as her eyes begin to soften.

She reaches out her hand, and I unwrap the cover. The condition of her hand turns my stomach. I nearly throw up all over the car.

"Harlow," I say, displeased.

"I told you there wasn't anything," She shrugs, and all I want to do is smack her in the head.

"There's a hole in your palm, Harlow!!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, cool!" Harry said, trying to see, but his mother puts her hand over his eyes.

"Here," Mary gives me her purse.

"There's alcohol in it," She says, and I dig through the bag before I find a little container.

"How is that not painful?" Asks my shocked mother.

"How did this happen?" I demand of Harlow, while I ignore the issue of my mother. I hold her hand steady as I pour the blank liquid over her hand.

Harlow looks at me, flinching a tad, but doesn't complain that I'm rubbing the blood out of her hand. If it had been me, I would have passed out in pain and shock. Instead, I am still trying to keep my stomach in place.

"How did this happen?" I whisper as Harlow clears her throat.

"When the second guy was, umm," She pauses, and I nod with understanding. I know what she meant, the guy who was going to shoot me.

This is my fault. If I had stayed in the vehicle, she wouldn't have had this injury. I keep washing the wound until the blood is gone and everything looks fine. Then tie a new sheet of paper around her hand.

"Give it a couple of hours. It's going to heal," She attempts to grin at me as if it were going to make me feel better about it. I return to my seat between my mother and my father, whom I missed dearly.

I have a lot to explain to them, don't I?