Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"How long is it going to take to hit me?"

Harry glanced up at me as he reached forward to pop open the glove compartment. I pulled my legs away a fraction, letting my eyes drift over to his hands, which reefed through an assortment of cigarette cartons and cash to withdraw a small, velvet pouch.

"The Ativan?" he clarified, popping the glove compartment shut again, his knuckles brushing my knees as he drew them back. His fingers deftly undid the tie at the top of the pouch, pulling from it a black, silk mask that looked just big enough to cover his eyes.

"Yeah," I mumbled, picking at my nail polish and doing my best to keep my mind occupied.

"Around a half-hour," he said, turning to look at me. His eyes clouded a bit as they met mine. "You're still going to be nervous, River. It's just meant to calm you down."

I nodded slowly. "Are you going to take one?"

Harry looked me up and down as if contemplating what he was going to say, before curtly responding, "No."

He popped his door open, sending my heart jumping right into my throat as he stepped out of the car. Trying to remind myself to breathe, I shut my eyes briefly, before opening my own door and hopping out after him. He was leaning against the hood of the car, watching me.

"Mask." Was all he said as I shut the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

His was already on. Dark, in stark contrast to the soft ivory of us skin, stopping just above his cheeks and slitted enough that his eyes stuck out, sparkling as they stared me down. It was plain. Plain in comparison to the others that I noticed others walking in wearing, but it oddly suited him.

"Right," I swallowed hard, reaching into my bag to pull out the god-awful expensive thing I'd bought yesterday.

I'd opted for one that tied at the back of my head, instead of one that had a stick, so I wouldn't have to hold it up to my face all night. Though now, as I awkwardly set my clutch on the back of the car and tried to figure out how to properly attach it to my head without ruining my hair, I kind of regretted it.

"Christ's sake," Harry muttered. He pushed off the hood of the car and stalked over to me, pulling the mask from between my fingers. His hands were warm and steady, in complete juxtaposition to how cold and shaky mine currently were. "Turn around," he ordered quietly.

I obeyed, spinning on my heel, breath catching in my throat as I was given a full, unobstructed view of the house. An expansive, colonial-style mansion stood in front of us, grey pillars holding up the back porch that spanned at least a few hundred feet, illuminated by the dull, yellow lights that sat atop the numerous windows and seemed to be staring me down – blinking like the eyes of a snake.

It truly was terrifying. Complete with a stately, green garden that I was sure an assortment of bodies were buried beneath.

"River," Harry's voice made me jump. His mouth was close to my ear and I could feel his chest almost pressed up against me from behind. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Breathe. You're okay."

I didn't entirely believe him but found myself nodding anyway.

His hand left my shoulder, only to reappear in front of my face moments later as he lifted my mask over my eyes. My own hand trembled, reaching up to keep the mask in place while Harry did up the tie behind my head. He worked quickly, tying it tight enough that it would stay in place, but not too tightly that it was uncomfortable.

"Careful with it," he muttered. My body stiffened as he tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, pulling the rest over my shoulder until it rested along my back. His fingers brushed along the now-exposed skin of my neck – softly, exploringly. He leaned in, "I don't wanna have to be fucking fixing it for you every five minutes."