nineteen || a trip down memory lane

The song for this chapter is Naive by The Kooks :)


Tate




     "So where is this mystery key of yours?" Harry asked while sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table.


I was still pacing, maybe from nerves, maybe I just didn't want to sit next to Harry.


"Remember that poem that I told Abel that ended up being the first password for the software?" I asked, pausing my rapid pacing to make sure that he was paying attention.


"Um, you never told me what it was, but I know what you're talking about, yes," he replied, moving his feet off of the coffee table and spreading them out in front of him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 


"Okay, that's close enough," I sighed, growing tired of pacing and deciding to slump down on the floor, leaning my back against the bookshelf.


"You do know that I have a couch, right?" Harry asked, giving me an odd look as I sat on his floor.


I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Harry, I do know that you have a couch. But quite frankly, I'm more comfortable on your hard floor than I am sitting next to you."


He pretended to look hurt, and stunned at my comment, bringing his hand to his chest and gasping.


"You mean you don't feel comfortable with me? I'm just your friendly neighborhood assassin who just happens to work for one of the biggest organized crime groups in the world! That doesn't just scream comfort to you?"


I couldn't help the small smile that tugged on the corners of my mouth, even though I fought valiantly to suppress it. 


"Shockingly, no!" I replied, using the same sarcastic tone he loved to use on me and firing it right back at him.


He just smirked at me in response, clearly amused that I was using his own tricks against him.


"Okay, smartass. Carry on," he sighed.


"As I was saying, that poem was one that my dad told my mother and I. My mom used to always tell me this story about a day we spent together at the park near my old house. We spent the whole day together, and my dad said it was one of the best days of his life, and he said it reminded him of that poem," I explained, and Harry nodded at me to continue.


"So, I can't explain why, but I feel like if that day meant so much to my dad, that would have to be a pretty significant place to him as well. I think that he hid the key to his journal in the park," I finished, feeling a little bit proud of my detective skills, while Harry only looked mildly impressed.


He sighed, staring at me with his lips pressed tightly together.


"What?" I cried out.


"Tate, you're telling me that you think the key is somewhere in a park? You couldn't narrow it down a little more? Don't get me wrong, I think that the park is a good place to start, but there wasn't anything else in that memory that maybe gave you an idea of where in the park?"


I stood up and brushed my hair over my shoulders, before moving my hands down to rest on my hips.


"It's like you said, I'll just have to use my instincts when we get there."


He opened up his mouth to say something, looking like he wanted to mentally slap himself as I had just twisted his own words back around and slingshotted them straight into his face. 


"Fair enough," he sighed, leaning back into the couch and slumping down a little bit. 


I paused for a bit before opening my mouth back open to speak. 


"So, Harry...you don't think it's the slightest bit odd that both of our dads are dead, and they both just so happened to keep journals that are both locked, but neither have a key?" I sighed, not wanting to piss him off again, but also wanting confirmation that I wasn't the only one weirded out by the similarities.


"Tate, if you're saying you think you're my sister, I'm going to have to shoot you in the kneecaps," he warned, but he cracked a small smile once he saw the horror on my face.


"No, dumb ass. I do not think we are siblings," I trailed off for a bit before continuing, "but just in case, what was your dad's name?"


He groaned at me. "Seriously? Why are you asking? Because you want to make sure we aren't related in case you want to make a move on me or something?" 


My cheeks were burning hot at his comment, and I scowled at him in disgust.


"Okay first of all, ew-"


"It didn't look like you thought I was that gross when you were practically fucking me with your eyes when I came out of the shower this morning," he interrupted with a cheeky grin on his face.


"Harry, please," I groaned, burying my face in my hands.


"Fine, fine. His name was Desmond," he replied, his joking tone gone and I could tell he desperately wanted to get away from the subject of his father.


"Okay, cool. Not siblings. I'm glad to know I am not related to a psychopathic killer," I chirped, attempting to lighten the mood before Harry slipped back into his cold and disconnected self, leaving me to be the punching bag for all of his mood swings to collide with.


It seems my attempts worked, as I saw a smirk play on his lips, and even though I knew he was bound to be on the verge of yet another perverted comment, I would rather deal with that than deal with his pissed off silent side.


"It's also good to know that you don't have to feel bad about drooling over me this morning. Feel free to continue princess, I'm used to women getting all weak in the knees when I'm around."


  Harry's phone began to ring, and I don't think I've ever been more grateful to hear a phone go off in my life. 


"Abel, what's up?" He asked, and suddenly he was back in work mode, the smile was wiped off his face and he was back to his normal self.


I mentally sent a thank you to Abel for saving me from a painfully awkward conversation.


He suddenly looked up at me, furrowing his eyebrows.


"Yeah, she's right here, why? No, she can't hear me," he sighed, rubbing his forehead, causing me to perk up and walk closer just out of instinct.


"Well, now she's trying to eavesdrop," he commented, and I frowned, but Harry's face remained stoic as he talked to Abel.


"Yes, I can go to another room," he spoke, grabbing his laptop, and beginning to walk out of the room.


"Seriously?" I quipped, crossing my arms and rolling my eyes.


Harry turned around and put his hand over the speaker.


"Seriously princess. Stay in here and don't touch anything. I mean it, you know I have a sixth sense now, so sit still, and stay put," he instructed, and I balled my fists as he talked to me like a child, before heading upstairs to his room and closing the door.




***********




Harry




I made my way over to the bed, sliding off my boots and flopping down onto my mattress, tucking one arm behind my head and using the other to press my phone to my ear.


"Okay, I'm alone now, what's up?" I asked.


"Something happened at the Fort today, Harry," Abel began, his voice sounding wary.


"Abel, what is it?" I asked, sitting up a bit straighter in the bed.


I heard him sigh through the phone, and I could just picture him adjusting his glasses right now.


"Someone delivered pictures of Tate and her mom to the Fort, with a note that said "I'm watching you,". 


"Her mom? Do you think it was Quinton?" I asked, feeling extremely pissed off.


"I mean, that's the only logical guess. Maybe he's just trying to remind us we are on a time crunch and is making threats so that we don't try to pull a fast one on him," he offered.


The line was quiet for a bit before Abel spoke up again.


"Are you going to tell Tate?" He asked softly, and I felt a pit in my stomach.


"I don't think I should yet. She's already so stressed out and scared, and if she knows her mom is in danger, I don't think she will get through this. Maybe we could just have some our guys routinely monitoring her mom, just to make sure she's okay," I answered.


I remember how scared Tate was that we were going to hurt her mom, more scared than she was when she thought we were going to hurt her. I knew the pain of losing a mom, and even though Tate annoyed the shit out of me, I would never put her through something like that. I knew she didn't deserve it.


"Okay, we will do that. Are you behaving Harry?" Abel asked, and I couldn't help but laugh at the parenting tone he was using with me.


"Yes, Abel, I am," I chuckled, laying my head back down against the pillow.


"Have you guys made any progress on the first riddle?" He asked, and I could tell that he wished he was here helping out instead of being stuck at the Fort.


"Yeah, actually. Tate told me something about a journal her dad kept. It's at her uncle's house, but she said it was locked. She wants to get the key first, and she thinks it's somewhere in the park where her dad told her and her mom that poem that unlocked the first stage of the software." I replied, choosing to leave out the part where we realized that both of our dads kept identical journals. I seriously doubted that the two were related in any way, and chose to believe that it was merely coincidental. 


"Did she say where in the park?"


I groaned, rubbing my temple. "She said she will just know when she sees it."


He laughed into the phone. "I'm sure she will. She's a pretty bright girl, isn't she?"


I chose to use this opportunity to poke fun at Abel. "Yeah, she is. Do you have a thing for her Abel?"


I could practically feel him blushing through the phone. "No, I do not. Do you Harry? You seem to be pretty protective and defensive of her," he teased right back.


"No, Abel. I do not. She is just part of the mission. I do feel a little bit bad though that she got caught up in this, especially now that her mother is involved," I sighed.


"Yeah, me too," Abel replied quietly.


I rubbed my head, perking up as I heard some rustling around downstairs.


"Alright, I have to go. Tate and I will probably go to that park tomorrow, if you want to come with us," I offered. 


"I can't, Whit is being super paranoid about Quinton's little games. He wants me to boot up our security systems even more for the time being. Call me tomorrow when you find the key, and let me know how it goes," he answered, and even through the phone, I could hear the faint clattering of his hands on a keyboard.


"Sounds good. Talk to you later."


"Talk to you later, Harry. Tell Tate I said hi!"


I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to tease him again.


"I will, bye Abel," I called out, before hanging up the phone and standing up to go downstairs.


I walked down the stairs and rounded the corner to go into the living room, only to find Tate sat on the floor with some books spread out around her.


"What are you doing?" I scoffed, causing her to perk up and look up at me with those big innocent eyes of hers. I remember being that innocent once, blissfully unaware of the world and all of the horrors it held.


"I was bored. You were taking forever. What did Abel want?" She asked.


"Aw, do you miss your little boyfriend?" I sneered, causing her to pout her lips at me.


"He is not my boyfriend. He is my friend," she replied defensively.


I rolled my eyes, walking over to sit on the couch. "Look at you, making friends already! See this isn't that bad!" I remarked sarcastically.


She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a big puff of air, attempting to look intimidating, which only made me laugh at her small frame glaring up at me from the floor.


"Okay, okay. Well, first of all, he says hi," I began, which caused a small smile to creep onto her lips.


"And second of all..." I trailed off, not wanting to reveal to her that her mother could very well be in danger. "Second of all, he just wanted to check in and see if we had found anything." I finished, only telling a partial lie.


She cocked an eyebrow up at me, looking suspicious.


"So you had to leave the room just so Abel could check in on how things were going?" She asked, clearly not buying it.


I put on my best poker face, leaning forward and placing my knees on my elbows, staring her straight in the eyes.


"Yes, Tate. That's all."


She murmured something under her breath, looking annoyed, and I sighed at her childish behavior, although part of me wanted to smile at it.


"So what now?" She asked, choosing to thankfully drop the subject.


"Now we just have to wait until tomorrow, and we will go to that park and get the key. Then we will figure out a way to get that journal from your uncle," I replied, and she nodded her head as she processed my words.


"I'm bored," she admitted, slumping her shoulders.


I tilted my head back against the couch, letting out a small laugh.


"Me too, Tate. Me too."






AN: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER! SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE YESTERDAY, TO MAKE UP FOR IT, I WILL TRY TO UPDATE TWICE TODAY! DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ILY ALL!

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