Read What the Lightning Sees: Part One for Free Online Page B

should be able to veto some of these questions.”
    “That wasn’t the deal—”
    His phone began to vibrate and he drew his eyebrows together. “I’m going to have to take this. Try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”
    I rolled my eyes and went back to my laptop. What on earth was I going to write about? I had nothing so far other than Sandy wanted to dry hump Harry. That was why I didn’t do celebrities. They were never quite as interesting as you imagined them to be. And they were always smaller than they seemed on screen. It was like the entertainment industry had a height restriction.
    Harry seemed to have received good news from his phone call.
    “Why are you in such a good mood? Did your girlfriend’s chlamydia test come back negative?”
    “Give it a fucking rest, Haven. Misery is not most people’s default status.”
    “I’m not miserable.”
    “Okay, rude then,” he said. I cringed inwardly but tried not to let it show.
    “Sorry. Ask me a question.” My tongue was particularly acerbic when I was around him. It was like I wanted to poke about a bit in that charming exterior and see how deep it went. Was I trying to goad him into losing his cool so I could see who he really was? I was thinking too much about Harry when I should be concentrating on Sandy.
    “You can’t keep doing that, being like that.”
    “Sorry. It was meant to be funny.” I felt silly and embarrassed. I had wanted to make him laugh.
    “By joking about my girlfriend’s STDs?”
    I shrugged. Luke would have laughed.
    “We don’t know each other well enough to be joking about chlamydia.” He chuckled and shook his head.
    I bit back a smile.
    “So tell me about your parents,” he said, going back to the question he’d asked before his phone call and the one I most dreaded from people.
    “They’re dead,” I replied.
    He burst out laughing and I found myself smiling at him.
    “Jesus. You are dark. Seriously, though . . . ”
    “Seriously. They died,” I said. Nobody had ever laughed when I’d told them about my parents—not that I told many people. I found that it was a reaction I preferred over what was normally pity.
    “Shit.” He went white. “I thought you were joking.”
    “I know. It’s fine.” I smiled at him. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.
    “When did they die?”
    “I was fifteen.” Most people didn’t ask follow up questions when I told them that they said they were sorry and then tried to change the subject. Harry didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all.
    “How did it happen? At the same time?”
    “Yeah. They were in a car accident.” A familiar pressure built across my temples and a sharp stab of pain hit me between my brows. I reached for my forehead, hoping my fingers would usher it away.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, like they all did.
    I kept rubbing my forehead.
    “Well, unless you were the drunk driver who ran into them, you have nothing to be sorry for.” I didn’t want people’s pity, it made me feel weak and it was unacceptable for me to feel that way in front of strangers.
    “Haven, I’m sorry for your loss. Let me be sorry for your loss.”
    I hated the bit straight after I told people. Everyone was uncomfortable. They didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to disappear, I didn’t want their sympathy or sorrow. It felt private, like I didn’t want to share how I felt about my parents, the accident and their death. Those feelings were mine and I guarded them. People’s reaction felt like a call for me to open up. That was why I hated telling people. I didn’t mind people knowing, but I didn’t like the time just after they knew.
    Murmurings from the crew in front of us brought our attention back to our surroundings and Sandy came rushing over.
    “Harry—I’m done for the day. Shall we go into town and get me drunk?” She giggled.
    “I’ve just had a phone call that I have to deal with but another time? When are we back