favorite crime [h.s]

nine

"What did he say to you?" Is the first thing he says.

His arms are crossed when he's looking at me from the other side of the room. I'm not sure if I should feel relieved that he lets some space between us but I need it.

I don't know if I should tell him though. He didn't want me to tell him anything about our little encounter in the weapon dungeon. I decide not to.

"I- uhm.." I shake my head.

"Listen here, blondie," He senses that I won't tell him. He slowly steps forward to me, holding my stare. "Tell me what he said to you."

His steps are steady and I'm afraid he'd get too close again. I decide to tell him anyway because I don't want to face the consequences again.

"He asked where the money is," I croak in a whisper.

"Money?" He raises his eyebrows and plays with the lipring between his fingers.

"I don't know," I stammer, feeling myself trembling the closer he gets to me.

"You don't know? Alison, what money?"

"I have no idea what he was talking about. I know nothing about money," I speak in a rush but he believes me as little as Matthew does.

"Well, bullshit. Stop lying. What do you know?"

His tone is calm but his expressions tell me otherwise. His face is tense and eyebrows furrowed in anger. My back presses against the glass window behind me, when he finally decides to stop a few feet in front of me.

"I said nothing, Harry! Why do you think I'm lying?" I raise my voice in fright, anything to make him believe me.

Shouting isn't necessarily the best option in this case.

"Because I don't trust a word you say!" He shouts. "He wasn't even supposed to know about this. So, what money was he talking about?"

I shake my head, "I already told you I know nothing."

He stares me deep in the eye for a moment. It seems like he uses eye contact to stare people down and make them afraid and this is exactly what's happening with me. I'm not good at holding eye contact and get overwhelmed easily but he has me locked in his eyes.

I expect him to hit something in this room but he doesn't, which makes me less relieved but more frightened.

"Sweetheart, you better be telling the truth or you're in big trouble. This isn't a guessing game so tell me now!" He snaps, getting impatient with me. The only problem is that I have nothing to tell.

"Harry, I don't know anything!" I yell. The raise of my voice comes from a place that I can't control. I'm surprised by myself for standing up for myself when I know it bruises Harry's ego and he won't like it.

His jaw clenches and he's looking at me quietly. He studies my face as if to get any information out of me but he knows that there's nothing. I hate that I'm so scared of him but I figured that's what he wants me to be.

"Don't you fucking talk to me like that," He warns harshly.

"Go to hell," I spit and look him dead in the eye. I don't even look at his reaction and quickly escape his stare and head to the door.

He doesn't move when I walk past him or like he plans on leaving any time soon. I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and a yank turns me around in order to face him. I gasp in shock.

"Do I have to remind you what happened on Friday? I was being nice to you, honey, you don't want to know how evil I can be." His eyes grow a dark shade of green, almost black and I know he's not messing around.