Redacted [h.s]

38

ZARA

"Harry, where are you?"

I'm freaking out. I haven't heard from Harry or had knowledge of his location in over 24 hours. He went out of town for business. That's fine. First, it was Washington, DC and New York, then he went out of the country. His last known location was France where he had a meeting with Cami and Alex. But that was yesterday. And then it's like he disappeared.

Rory and Gemma haven't heard from him but assume he's fine. When I stopped by the shop, Lana, who flew back ahead of Harry, said that he's extremely busy with meetings and he'll contact me when he gets the chance; and that even she doesn't get quick responses from him. I get the feeling that she doesn't like me much, and thinks I'm a stalker or something. Meanwhile, Cas is doing whatever it is he does.

Harry hasn't called or texted me back. I'm close to getting the Bureau involved. But I'll need more than a "I haven't talked to him in 24 hours," despite everything that's going on.

This for sure doesn't ease any anxiety that's been overwhelming my life for the past few weeks. In addition to everything else, there was Jordan showing up at XO, me getting arrested for a murder I didn't commit, the warehouse getting raided by the DEA, and the rage from Liz because of it, now I, once again, have gone crazy worrying about Harry.

With the phone pressed to my ear, "If you left me... if you left again," correcting myself, "without saying a word, I swear I'll-"

My threat is interrupted by a noise coming from downstairs. I practically run out of Harry's bedroom and toward the stairs. There's no sign of him in the living or dining areas, or the kitchen. Then a wave of relief washes over me when I spot Harry standing on the balcony, looking out over the city, drinking a glass of water. He nearly chokes when he turns his head slightly, possibly hearing the tap of my shoes.

"Zara! You scared the hell out of me. When did you get here?"

"Where were you?" Heels are loud and heavy as I stomp toward him. "I've been calling and texting and left you voicemails. Why didn't you answer?"

"Sorry, it's been hectic the last few days and I put my phone on DND to disconnect for a bit. What's wrong?"

"I-" For a moment, I pause to reassess my approach.

There's no need for me to freak out or express how worried I've been because he should know. But then again, he's here and safe. Still, I'm annoyed because he could have just checked-in to let me know he was okay.

"No. Nothing's wrong, Harry. Just answer your fucking phone next time." Making it clear to him that I'm annoyed and something is in fact wrong, as I turn to walk away.

"Oh my God, Zara," he groans. "Stop walking away from me." In seconds, I'm forced back around by his grip on my elbow.

"Let me go."

"No. You're here for a reason. So, tell me what's going on." His hold tightens. "I'm not letting you go until you talk to me."

"I thought you left again!" I yell, using my free hand to push him back and remove his hold. "That's what's going on. Just the other day, I told you that there's some shit going on and then you disappear for a couple of days. So, I thought either you left or something happened to you. And you didn't answer the fucking phone." Each word of my last sentence is followed by a fist pounding against him out of frustration.

"I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry-"

I ignore the pain that shoots through my sprained fingers when a slap lands on his cheek. His head is forced to the side.