in which joelle d'amore is completing her final semester of university in the grand city of los angeles, california. when she finds herself in the presence of harry styles, a piercing man with dangerous agendas, she is permeated with fear. she saw s...
TRIGGER WARNING: mentions and brief descriptions of sexual assault and rape ahead!
... Chapter 28
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HARRY
I didn't intend to go back.
I was supposed to leave her behind. I had to eliminate my distractions because, at the end of the day, I had other shit to prioritize. With time being limited and all that.
That's all Joelle D'Amore was to me—a damn distraction.
Walking away from her was meant as a favor for the both of us. As for paying off the six grand for her apartment, it was just a way of silently saying sorry for being an ass. Though, she might've read right through me.
No, I didn't fuck that married woman this time. I could've, from the way she was throwing herself at me, but I didn't need any more distractions.
All I needed was to drop Joelle as soon as possible because again, want isn't the same as need.
I don't need her.
When I got to the apartment, I felt something off in the air. She didn't answer the first knock. I could've knocked again, but why should I when I could let myself in?
1-2-0-5
Stepping in, I identified her scream and cry for help.
The terror in her voice. It sounded familiar, like the time I held a gun to her head in the alleyway.
Then that's when I stumbled upon the scene in her bedroom.
I couldn't let anything happen to her, so I did what I had to do. I killed another person this week, cold and right in the chest with a gun, simply because I had to.
I knew she wouldn't have taken it lightly. Me killing the crazed bitch she withstood for so long and called a best friend, I knew she would've been confused and filled with rage.
So I let her shove me, again and again. If it meant it would've helped get all her frustration out, I didn't mind. I've been a punching bag before.
Though, when that didn't work, when she was close to having a full-on panic attack, I kissed her.
I didn't have a damn drug on hand to give her. So, I assumed kissing her was enough to surprise her, enough to slow her breathing and heart rate down.
It worked.
After I've parted from her lips, I open my eyes to look at her. She's reaching for her head where blood gathers at her wound, but I don't let her. I take her hand in mine, letting my fingers graze over her palm before holding it completely. "It's alright," I then whisper to her.
