A Page from Harlow Jones’ Journal, Vol 3

What better way to start out the week, than with a new entry from Harlow Jones’ journal! Click here to read the first and second entries

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

A couple weeks ago, I let Jake talk me into going to a party. I haven’t been to one since Lauren died. I figured I was safe, it’s a small town…what was the worst that could happen?

Turns out small towns are full of bad people too.

I don’t want to go into detail…because I can’t, but a girl in my English class was hurt, and it appears that she can’t do anything about it because the guy who hurt her has an influential father that can sweep it all away. Everyone is afraid of him, and his father.

I tried to stop it, I tried to help her, but I was too late. Now I’ve captured this guy’s attention.

The night after, he and his friends chased me down after work. It was terrifying, they were catching up to me when I saw a person walking up to their house. I ran at them, literally right into them, begging for help. I ran straight into Iain’s arms. His presence scared away my pursuers.  I had a breakdown while he held me, and told him what happened at the party.

Being there, getting comfort from him…it was weird. I can’t explain it…but the air was thick, charged with…I don’t know. Longing? Attraction? Probably all me. Or at least…I thought that at first. It was weird in that it didn’t feel completely wrong, like one would think it would…it was weird in that I felt alive again, even after everything that’s happened, even after all that brought me to him.

He offered to drive me home, and when I stood up…we were standing too close to each other. I swear I saw longing in his eyes, the same feelings I had mirrored in mine.  We nearly kissed, but he stepped back, breaking eye contact, and asked me where I lived.

He drove me home, refusing to look at me again. There was something between us, and the week after…I couldn’t ignore it. It was like a small flame, one that you know you shouldn’t touch…but that you can’t help but want to.

Then, I touched the flame. I got tired of just looking at it, and I dove in. I took a chance and followed my gut instinct, and it lead me straight into his arms.

I showed up at his house after work, demanding an explanation.

He confessed that he wanted me, that it was wrong. I told him I didn’t care about the age difference, about any of those details because I felt alive.

It was literally one of those cliche, “time stood still” moments. I walked towards him and he gently grabbed my jacket, pulling me close to him yet holding me at a distance. He was a good head taller than me, so that I had to look up at him. He slowly lowered his face to mine. He didn’t kiss me. He just put his forehead against mine and took a deep breath. I felt his breath cascade across my nose and lips. It smelt minty and fresh, and it warmed me from the inside out. I felt myself thawing out, not realizing how frozen I’d been before.

When we finally kissed, it was as if nothing or no one could stop it, and the small flame ignited into an inferno…


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Stay tuned next week, I’ll be posting another entry from Harlow’s journal. Maybe it’ll be a juicy one 😉



About J.C. Hannigan

25. Mother. Wife. Lover of words. Weaver of stories. My first book, Collide, is available in e-book for Amazon Kindle and Kobo.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to A Page from Harlow Jones’ Journal, Vol 3

  1. Oh, forbidden love!!!

  2. No fair, I want more! 😀

  3. She’s a bad ass. I love her honesty.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s