Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Harry's firm grip in my hand slid up to my wrist, holding so tightly as he dragged me outside that I hissed at the feeling. My feet stumbled over one another, trying to match his pace, and I barely had a moment to take in a breath until we were back in front of his car.

"Jesus," Harry spun to look at me, face aghast, gravel crunching under his feet. "What the fuck was that in there?"

I furrowed my brows, rubbing defensively at my wrist that he'd just dropped. "What do you mean what was that?" I spluttered. "You just threw me in a room with, like, 10 men and artillery weapons! I should be asking you!"

"Why'd you have to talk back to them?" He was violently shaking his head. His palm shot up to the top of his lip, where he wiped away at the blood still pouring from his nose. "I told you only to talk when you fucking had to."

"And I did," I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest. My limbs still trembled, not having totally recovered from the panic of the last hour. I glanced over my shoulder at the warehouse door, lowering my voice a fraction, "I said exactly what you told me to."

"You pissed him off," Harry snarled. He'd stalked over to me, leaving only a few inches between the two of us.

"Well, I didn't fucking try to!" My voice was a harsh whisper now. I balled my hands into fists at my sides. "I didn't do anything in there that wasn't what you told me–"

"Don't play dumb, River," Harry snapped, eyes darkening. "It doesn't look fucking good on you."

"I'm not playing dumb–"

"Do you have any idea what you've just gotten yourself into?"

I swallowed hard. "Just take me home, Harry. I did what you wanted tonight–"

"You just made it a hundred times worse," Harry muttered. I rolled my eyes, tipping my head back and turning toward the car. His fingers closed around my jaw in record time, pulling me back to face him. "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you."

My mouth parted underneath his grip, appalled. "I will not." Using both of my hands, I shoved him backwards. Despite the fact that he'd taken numerous hits tonight, he barely even stumbled. "Not if you continue to act like a dick. You think you can always just get what you want, huh?"

The rage in Harry's gaze was blinding. "I don't think," he growled, taking another step closer. "I know. I always get what I fucking want. You don't wanna see what happens when I don't." His arm jutted outwards, popping open the passenger side door of his car. "Get in."

My body burned in defiance. With my arms still crossed tightly over my chest, I debated briefly just not getting in. It was only with another glance over his shoulder that I realized we were still in the warehouse parking lot and this was definitely not a place that I wanted to get stuck. 

I reluctantly ducked into the car, not meeting his eye as he slammed the door shut and stalked over to the driver's side.

Harry let out an irritated huff as he started the engine. His gun and cigarette carton were promptly dropped into the console before he braced a hand on the back of my seat and began to reverse out of the dim, dark parking lot.

It was only when we pulled onto the road once more and his breathing evened out slightly, leading me to believe he'd calmed down a fraction, that I felt brave enough to speak.

"So..." I ran my sweaty palm over my pant legs. "What now?"

Harry glanced over at me; cigarette tucked between his teeth that he'd pulled out a few seconds earlier. "I don't know," he admitted hoarsely, anger still hot in his tone. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.