Gluttony

felt her hands on the steering wheel; she heard the crunch of metal, and the screams. But all of it had been a lie. It might as well have been Beth at that wheel; it might as well have been a gun in Beth’s hand. It wasn’t my fault, Harper thought in wonderment.

It was hers.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Adam stuttered. Harper realized he was still sitting next to Beth on the bed-next to a killer. Their hands were clasped together. She held herself still, and tried to resist the urge to attack. “How could you… what do you mean you killed her?” Adam said. “You weren’t even there, and-I thought Kaia was driving the car?”

“I was driving,” Harper said flatly. The words had been trapped in her for so long, poisoning everything. And now they didn’t even matter.

And Beth had known all along, she realized. Beth had known, and let Harper believe…

She almost hadn’t survived the guilt. She had almost drowned. And Beth held the life preserver in her arms, saw her flailing-and turned away.

“I was driving,” she said again, louder this time. The words gave her power. “But this-” Bitch. Psycho. Murderer. “You. You put something in my drink. And you let me get up there in front of all those people and make an ass of myself. Then you let me get into a car. You just let-” She gasped, remembering the sirens, remembering the screams. “You just let it happen.”

“I’m sorry…!” Beth wailed, her words trailing off into an incoherent moan. She tipped over onto her side and curled up into a tight fetal ball, shaking. Adam leaned over her, stroking her head.

“What the hell are you doing?” Harper asked Adam. “Didn’t you hear her? She killed Kaia. And she let me think that I-what are you doing?”

“We have to give her a chance to explain,” Adam said softly, as if Beth were a child who’d just confessed to breaking Harper’s favorite lamp. “This doesn’t make any sense, and she… it’s Beth. She’s a good person. There must be some explanation, some-”

“There’s nothing!” Harper shrieked. She felt like she’d slipped into some parallel universe where everyone but her was insane. How could he not see what was going on, and who he was comforting? How could he not care what she’d done to Kaia-to Harper? “There’s no excuse. There’s nothing she can say. She did it. She deserves to cry. She deserves to be miserable. She deserves to go to hell, and you should leave her the hell alone.”

Adam looked at her helplessly. “Don’t say that. I can’t. She’s still… whatever she did, I still care about her. I can’t just leave her here, like this.” He rubbed his hand slowly across Beth’s heaving shoulders. She didn’t appear to notice.

Harper’s stomach contracted, and tears of rage sprung to the eyes. Adam was a caring, responsible guy. It was one of the reasons she loved him. But this was ridiculous. He was Harper’s best friend-or he was supposed to be. He was supposed to love her. Protect her. Support her.

He was supposed to be on Harper’s side. But here he was, embracing the enemy.

“I made a mistake,” Harper reminded him, “because I loved you-and you threw me out of your life. You told me I was a horrible person, that you could never trust me again. Because I made a fucking mistake. But she… she kills someone, and you just… shrug?” Harper forced her voice not to tremble. She walked slowly to the door, turning away from Adam and placing her hand on the knob. “If you ever cared about me, you wouldn’t be able to look at her. You’d leave her here to rot. You’d leave right now.”

“Don’t say that, Harper,” Adam pleaded. “Please. Don’t make me…”

Don’t make me choose. That’s what he’d been about to say. And a chasm of black, bottomless darkness opened up inside Harper. Because if he thought he had to choose-if he thought, now, after hearing the truth, that there was a choice, that he had any option but one-then it was already over.

“She needs someone right now, Gracie. I can’t leave her alone.”

I need you, Harper thought bitterly. But she didn’t say it out loud. He shouldn’t need to hear it. “I’m leaving. Come if you want. Stay it you want.”

Harper opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind her.

She didn’t need to look back to know what he’d decided.

Adam couldn’t believe she was gone.

He couldn’t believe any of this. Things like this didn’t happen. Not to him.

He was having trouble processing. Beth had spiked Harper’s drink. Harper had gotten into the car. And Kaia had-

None of it made any sense. Beth was so gentle, such a good person, always doing the right thing, guiding him in the right direction. He’d been with her for almost two years, and he knew what kind of person she was. The kind that would never do anything like this. Never.

Unless she’d been pushed past her breaking point. Unless something had happened-some one had pushed her so hard, hurt her so badly, that she’d broken.

Maybe me. He remembered pushing her away, cursing her, hating her for something she hadn’t done. He remembered sleeping with Kaia-and breaking Beth’s heart.

He looked down at Beth, who was sobbing into the comforter, her hands balled up tight and thumping softly against the bed, her eyes squeezed shut. She needed him.

But what if he needed Harper?

He owed Harper his loyalty. He owed Beth his help, maybe even his forgiveness. What did he owe himself?

“Leave me alone,” Beth mumbled, her arm spasming out as if to shoo him away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Adam knew that he should, and that whatever Beth said, she knew it too. But he couldn’t stop staring at the door. And, eventually, he couldn’t stop himself from standing up, walking over, and opening it.

He looked up and down the hallway. Only a few minutes had passed, but he had waited too long. She was gone.

She probably hadn’t gone far-he was sure he could find her. But he could still hear Beth weeping, back in the room. She was crushed. Damaged. Helpless. And Adam still cared about her, enough to cringe at her whimpering. Enough to want to hold her and give her comfort, maybe even forgiveness, if that’s what it would take.

“Shhh, I’m back,” he told her, gathering her up in his arms.

“No.”

“Yes. And I’m not leaving you.”

Beth was weak, and she needed him now. Harper was strong.

She could wait.

The kiss hadn’t lasted long enough.

One moment he’d had his arms around her, his lips pressed to Miranda’s, his eyes closed while hers stared, wide open, memorized the tiny dips and crinkles in the skin around his left eye. The next moment, which came far too quickly, Kane had pulled away, and they were seated across from each other again, as if nothing had happened.

Maybe nothing had, and her obsession with Kane had finally swept away her last grip on reality. But she didn’t think so.

What did it mean?

Nothing?

Everything?

She was afraid of the answer, reluctant to ask. Harper saved her the trouble.