Always Hurt the Ones You Love

By Cassandra Leuthold

End the calm. Rage the storm.

When Harbinger resurfaces offering insights into the powers, Joshua meets his most complicated desires head-on. Being completely true to himself calls to him more than anything, but blazing an apathetic trail could create bigger consequences than it’s worth. He can’t guess Harbinger’s motives or how close he’s willing to let her get.

Tired of putting up a front but clinging to the wonderful life he’s built, Joshua must choose between inner and outer war. Either he keeps hiding his real feelings from Lana or gives up everything he worked for to embrace the freedom that terrifies him.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Cassandra Leuthold
• Release date: Apr 13, 2015

Cassandra Leuthold

Cassandra started creating outside-the-box, character-driven stories in second grade. Over twenty years later, she continues to combine what most people think of as opposites: the magical and the everyday, the modern and the vintage, the darkest recesses of the mind and the greatest heights humans can achieve. In between new ideas and breathing fresh life into old projects, you can find her sewing, watching TV, and binging on music from around the world. Cassandra lives with her writer husband and their moody cat, Gaia, in a house three sizes too big. She holds a Bachelor's in Liberal Studies and a Master's in English. Get free exclusive content and peeks behind the scenes. Visit bit.ly/writeruninterrupted.

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Demonslayer Book 2

Always Hurt the Ones You Love

Cassandra Leuthold

Always Hurt the Ones You Love

Copyright © 2015 Cassandra Leuthold

All rights reserved.

Published by Green Hill Press

South Bend, IN

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design

www.derangeddoctordesign.com

Table of Contents

Always Hurt the Ones You Love

About the Author

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Always Hurt the Ones You Love

Joshua’s promise to Lana weighed on him as he carried his lunch bag out of his office. He locked the door behind him, guessing at what other crimes Harbinger and Talisman had committed. Robbing the bank of a cheating, greed-driven manager? Sending a bribed official flying down a mountain of steps? He wanted to find concrete answers for Lana, but it didn’t mean he longed to ask his coworkers what fresh tragedies marked the news. He walked into the counseling office lobby, the blue-and-grey space mostly calm and empty. Only one other person occupied it, uttering stretched, taught tones behind the counter.

Gary’s getting remarried, Marian said, holding her cell phone to her ear and her back to the room. In Maui. Her vowels sharpened. Yes, I know you’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii, but you’re not listening to me. He’s getting married. You can tell by the picture in the paper she’s younger than us by five or ten years. Yes, it bothers me, but that’s Gary. He always pushes to get what he wants. Twenty years ago when we got married, I had to talk him out of using the courthouse.

Joshua approached the counter, a begrudging sigh parting his lips. Marian peeped over her shoulder but kept her body aimed at the wall ahead.

Work? It’s all right, she drawled into the phone. Same old thing, new day. Yeah, she still works here. It’s not that I care what she does outside of school. I just don’t think kids should be exposed to people like that.

Joshua shifted his feet from side to side. His eyes wandered from the thin stack of white appointment request sheets on the counter to the chatting students trotting past the open lobby doors.

Marian balked, one hand jerking up in exasperation. Well, even if I could ignore it, nobody can tune her out. She’s so loud, like she has a built-in bullhorn. Marian finally turned, surveying Joshua and the vacant air on either side of him. I have to go. I’ll call you back. She lowered the phone, pressing it in a few places with her fingertip. Can I help you with something?

Joshua dug up a friendly approach despite the nagging boredom and added negativity. You follow local news pretty closely, right?

The smoldering creases in Marian’s face relaxed away. She set her hands on the counter, her stiff posture melting into a casual stance. Yeah. I like to think I know what’s going on. Her fingers swiped her bangs off her forehead in a few strategic nudges.

Joshua tried not to squirm at the body-language implication she was primping for him. I wondered if there was anything important or weird I should know about that happened recently.

Her eyes bulged around the azure-grey irises. Are you kidding? You obviously didn’t see this morning’s paper. I might have somebody walk me to my car tonight. I’m afraid to go out after dark.

Joshua pressed past the potential invitation. He shook his head. I don’t get the paper.

You should. A man escaped from the state prison last night. It’s less than two hours away.

Who is he?

Marian eased forward so her forearms rested on the counter. John Salem. Hard to forget a name like that. It’s creepy, and so is he. They gave him forty years for killing his wife. He’s six foot six. He’s had nothing to do these past several years but work out. Even in that pixilated print, his picture terrified me.

Did he hurt or kill anybody during the escape?

Her eyes widened again. No, she intoned, drawing it out. They can’t figure out how he got out. They think he waited for the new moon so he could hide in the dark. God only knows where he went and where he’s hiding.

The hairs on Joshua’s arms stood on end, but he couldn’t figure out how Harbinger or Talisman might’ve been involved. If the breakout didn’t leave any wounds, it certainly deviated from Harbinger’s MO. Peaceful interaction seemed more Talisman’s type, but would he act by himself? Was there anything strange about the murder he was in prison for?

Marian shrugged. Not really. Shot her in a passionate rage or something. Heck of a way to file for divorce, huh? I’m surprised my ex-husband didn’t go for that.

Joshua winced, compelled to offer some semblance of support. I hope it wasn’t that bad.

Compared to what his wife and her family went through, no. But it wasn’t pretty.

Joshua moved toward the doorway, taking his lunch bag with him. Thanks for filling me in. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for anybody suspicious.

Marian stood up straight, her ringless fingers splayed on the counter. Get a paper on your way home so you’ll know him if you see him. He could be real trouble.

Joshua rapped his knuckles on the end of the counter in acknowledgement. He headed through the halls to the faculty lounge and let himself in. Jen occupied her usual table in the back, her blonde hair gathered into a plastic clip above the collar of her bright pink blouse.

He joined her, taking in the plastic containers of food unpacked in front of her.

She reclined against her chair back to greet him, her lips beaming the width of her face. Hey, everybody. It’s Lana’s boyfriend.

Joshua’s lungs expelled a huff as he sat down and opened his lunch bag. He appreciated her enthusiasm, but normal parts of life hardly warranted constant acknowledgement. Are you gonna call me that every day?

Just the days when it’s true. Jen shook up a glass bottle of white salad dressing and drizzled lines of it over her container of greens. I knew you liked her. You weren’t fooling me with all that ‘I don’t want to date anybody’ malarkey.

How are things with Emily? Joshua prompted, unwrapping the plastic from a deli-made turkey sandwich on rye.

Good. Jen lowered her eyebrows in mock concern. She screwed the bottle cap on. A little too good. She asked me if I liked jazz, and I said yes. It’s not the worst lie I ever told, but I have to be in the mood for it. Feeling laidback and introspective. I’m more of an indie rock and classical kind of woman.

So where does that leave you?

Going to a concert at the performing arts center.

Even though you might not be in the mood, Joshua summarized.

Jen tossed her shoulders up in their boldly-colored cotton. Of course. Any excuse to get us both in dresses. I get to show off and check her out, too.

Joshua cocked an eyebrow. That’s your idea of a relationship going well? Lying about music so you can see her legs?

Well… Jen lowered the bottle into her bag on the floor. I’m used to lying about bigger things. Like why I named my cats Anubis and Osiris. Why I hang a broom in my house for decoration instead of cleaning. Why I like primitive artwork and stars and nature more than anyone else I know.

You don’t tell your girlfriends you’re pagan?

Jen shook her head, the skin tightening around her eyes and nose. I tried it a couple of times. It didn’t work out. They usually have enough problems dealing with my vegetarian diet. I seem to date women who live on hamburgers, steaks, and chicken burritos.

Joshua stopped gathering his sandwich into his hands, the scent of cold, salted meat rising into his nose. Sorry.

Don’t tell me. Jen raised a palm to him. Tell it to the animals. Anyway, I figure my relationships won’t go the distance, so what’s the point?

Joshua’s chest constricted in sympathy. But was his outlook so different? He wasn’t sure if keeping secrets put a best-by date on his relationships or if a similar hopelessness perpetuated the cycle. Either way, it added up to way more silence than he intended with all his girlfriends, not just Lana. You shouldn’t pretend you’re something you’re not, Jen. As a counselor and a friend, I have to tell you that.

Jen stabbed her fork into her salad mix. Are you always honest with Lana? Do you tell her everything?

Joshua took a big bite and let chewing fill in where he was supposed to answer.

Jen leaned towards him. Nobody’s ever completely honest, Joshua, and I have to believe that’s okay. We all need some mystery surrounding us, right? We can’t spill everything.

He swallowed. True. Reluctance slowed his speech as he found a way to shift the subject where he needed it. Speaking of Lana, she’s worried about the increase in crime.

Jen tilted her head to one side. You can’t let her go down that road. It sounds like social awareness, but it’s riddled with quicksand.

I know. I just wondered if you’d heard any more weird news lately?

Jen shoveled the forkful of salad into her mouth and pierced another. All the time. I’ve been trying to ignore it.

Care to share?

Not really. I’d rather forget it. Or don’t you remember how much I loathe bad news?

I remember. I thought you could humor me this once so I can prepare myself to comfort Lana when she’s upset about it.

Jen narrowed her bright blue eyes at him and tapped her forkful of greens on the air. You played the Lana card. Shame on you. How about a mystery with a happy ending?

Sure, he agreed, although it probably wouldn’t have anything to do with Harbinger.

Jen munched her fresh bite of salad. Parents can’t keep track of their kids, or teenagers don’t know how to tell people where they’re going. I don’t know which it is. A couple weeks ago, a teenage girl went missing.

In Ashton?

Yeah. She disappeared on a Friday night. She could’ve run away or gotten picked up by somebody on her way to a friend’s house. Nobody knew where she was. She’d packed some clothes in her backpack and left her school books behind. Her mom called the cops. Jen dropped her fork into her salad container and upturned her hands in bafflement. Then the teenager came home Sunday night. Totally fine. She said she spent the weekend with a friend and forgot to tell her parents. Jen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. A friend. Just the kind of weekend getaway every fifteen-year-old needs. What makes it really weird, though, is that she goes to York High School, same as the boy who shot his father."

Joshua’s blood ran cold. Maybe Harbinger hadn’t caused either problem, but the observation made his mind race to connect the dots. That’s quite a coincidence.

Yeah. Sounds like they could’ve used you over there, you’re so full of wisdom and interest in everybody’s wellbeing.

You’re trying to get rid of me?

Jen snorted and picked up her fork. As if. If you tried to leave this school, I’d break into your house and destroy every copy of your resume. You’re not getting out of here so easily. But try to steer Lana toward the happy news, okay? I don’t like dwelling on this stuff any more than she does.

Joshua rewarded her with a genuine gleam of appreciation and relief. Sure. I don’t like it, either.

.

Sleigh bells jingled as Joshua opened the door to the Crystal Butterfly. One whiff of an intoxicating, woodsy scent – sandalwood, he