116: Suspicions And Lies

116: Suspicions And Lies
Carl

I stepped out of Velma's room, and made my way downstairs still lost in thoughts. I couldn't stop thinking about my conversation with Velma, and what she said about Agatha being on the phone the entire time they were at the park. It was strange. Quite strange.

Who had Agatha been talking to? And what could  they have been talking about the entire time they were at the park? It was definitely suspicious and no matter how much I wanted to. I couldn't shake off the feeling in my gut.

I had a bad feeling about this—about her, and whatever she was doing behind our backs. I didn't trust her, especially after the shit she pulled today. I had always felt like Agatha was up to no good, and now more than ever I feel more and more alarmed, and weary of her. She was definitely up to something, and even though I didn't know what it was. I knew it was nothing good.

"Mr. Harrison," Agatha called as I reached the bottom of the stairs. Speak of the devil. I thought as I turned to her blankly, frowning as my gaze met hers. It couldn't be helped. The sight of her was something of a repulsion to me.

She flashed me a small smile, "You're still here," she remarked, coming closer, "Would you like me to make you something? Coffee? Tea?" She offered, still holding her smile.

"No. I'm good,"  I mumbled, and heard the front door swing open and close. Alma was back from walking Beverly, and the awareness of that made my chest fill up again with all these emotions.

I noticed Agatha as she left the room, and Alma walked into the living room, spotting me at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes lingered on me,  "Leaving?" She asked, and something in her tone made me feel like she didn't want me to leave, which was opposed to the way she had been treating me all day.

Pick a damn side woman. My heart screamed.

"Yeah. I should head back to my suite," I tell her, sliding my hand off the rails of the stairs as I walk towards her.

She nodded briskly, "Okay. I hope you have a nice evening," she said, and brushed past me, heading up the stairs. No, no, no, no. I hated this. We weren't strangers. I could never let us be that.

Alma barely made it up two stairs when I grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. I couldn't let her go or rather I didn't want to. She was too precious to me, too important, and I didn't want this disagreement to continue between us or whatever this was. It was exhausting enough already.

She swirled her whole body to me, wearing a quizzical brow as her eyes glanced to my hand on her arm, "What are you doing?"

Honestly, I didn't know. I just...I couldn't get my head straight. Alma had been ignoring me for the entire day, and It was driving me nuts. It was painful, and worse I didn't know what I had done wrong or what was going wrong between us, much less what I was supposed to do about it.

It was impossible to fix a problem I didn't know anything about. That's not how things worked. If only she would just tell me what I had done wrong then I could apologize and fix things. That's all I wanted, for her to tell me what I did wrong so I could make everything right.

"Can we talk?" I ask, still holding onto her arm, and she doesn't pull away or anything at first. It seemed to take a moment for everything to sink in, including her rage with me, and then suddenly she yanked her hand from mine.

"I don't want to talk to you, Carl," Her voice was stern as she turned away. I grabbed her arm again but she jerked it out of my grip, "What do you want?" She yelled, "Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Tell me what I did wrong," I demanded with a frown, raising my voice, "Tell me why you won't talk to me or pick my calls. What did I do wrong, Alma?"

"Nothing. Just leave, Carl."

"I can't. Not until you tell me what's going on here!" I insisted.

"You really wanna know?" She arched a brow, glaring at me.

"Yes!" I yelled.

"Then figure it out yourself, Carl. If you so badly wanna know, why don't you actually think about it instead acting so goddamn clueless," she retorted, and marched up the stairs.

"Alma," I ran after her but it was too late. She went into her room, and slammed the door shut once again in my face.

Ouch!

When I returned downstairs, Agatha was there, standing in the living room with her arm crossed over her chest. Her gaze met mine, and there was something about the way she looked at me that made it so obvious that she had heard everything. She was smugged about it in a way too.

"Good night, Mr. Harrison," Agatha walked me out of the house. It felt like she was enjoying this quite a lot, and I hated that. I hated all of it.

I walked to my car, and drove back to the Suite with my heart torn to pieces. The second I arrive at the suite I head to the bar to drink my pain away and forget all about tonight. It was a lot, and not knowing what was really going on was driving me crazy.

My mind drifted back to Alma's words. Figure it out? How was I supposed to do that? How was I supposed to know when she wouldn't tell me?

I down the fourth drink down my lungs and reached for the fifth when I felt a warm hand grip mine, stopping me.

"Mr. Harrison?" She called in a soft voice, slipping the shot glass from my hands.

My eyes shot to her face, and my gaze was a little unfocused. "Alma?" I quiz, and she leaned forward, thrusting her face closer, "Oh! Alice, it's you."