Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 31

TRIGGER WARNING:

This update is really heavy and contains graphic depictions of violence, blood and some gory themes. I know there is a lot going on right now, so I only suggest reading this if you are in the right headspace. It's a bit shorter of an update, but I am still working to get the other two done. Hopefully, they will be up later today or tomorrow.

As always, I love you all lots and am here for absolutely anyone that needs to talk!

Remember to take care of yourselves. You are valid, incredible and deserve to take up space in this world.

Val xo

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Chapter 31

"Fuck. You."

I wrapped my fingers around Harry's wrist, pulling his hand away from my face. The absence of his thumb on my lip was almost painful, as was everything else that had gone on this evening. The small hint of a smirk that played on his face was infuriating.

"Fine," I huffed, backing a step away from him until my back came into contact with the counter. "You wanna play this game?" The words came out a bit breathy as I leaned down to grab the hem of my dress. "I'll just fucking do it myself–"

His hand was locked around my forearm before I could react, his eyes flaring. "Don't."

"I'll do what I want," I stated, despite the fact that he'd already yanked my wrist back up. He had it pinned against my chest, his blunt nails digging harshly into my skin. "You don't own me. You don't control me. And you sure as hell don't get to punish me for something that was my choice, you misogynistic piece of fucking–"

The door to the bathroom swung open, startling me. The two of us turned toward the frantic-looking man dressed in a red suit who took a step inside, wringing his hands together. He braced a foot on the door to keep it propped open. The sounds of the event trickled in over his shoulder – people laughing, dancing, conversing.

He was the first of the men dressed in a red suit that I'd seen actually show emotion and the fact that the emotion seemed to be genuine concern sent a shiver up my spine.

Harry stiffened, his hold on my wrist loosening. Obviously, the sight of this man was no more comforting for him than it was for me.

"Damien," the man stammered, his eyes honing in on Harry's, "he wants you out there."

Harry's jaw clenched. He blew out a sharp breath. "Give me ten minutes–"

"Now." The red-suited man's tone was adamant. "He knows what you're doing. He knows you're stalling and requested that I escort you out now." He braved a small glanced in my direction. "You and Ava."

"He knows she's here then?" Harry muttered through gritted teeth.

All he got in response was a small nod.

"Fine," was Harry's sharp retort. He stared at the man for a beat before barking, "Go. Fuck off. We'll be out in a second."

The man was hesitant, but he reluctantly retreated moments later.

"Stalling?" I asked when the door fell shut, the two of us being plunged back into an eerie silence. I didn't dare try to continue our fight from a few minutes prior. As unrelieved and unsatisfied as I was, it could wait. Especially given Harry's current state.

His entire attitude had shifted – from the self-righteous, arrogant, pompous asshole façade that he normally fronted to a man that was on edge, nervous even. Almost like he'd been on Thursday when the two of us were sparring.