Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Twenty-Two

"I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side"

***

I had called Harry several times throughout the week, but each attempt ended in the same frustrating result—voicemail. Today, I decided to give it another shot. I sat cross-legged on my bed, my phone pressed to my ear, listening to each ring echoing in the silence of my room. As the rings stretched on, I was about to give up when, suddenly, the line went quiet.

"Harry?" I said tentatively, unsure if the call had finally connected or if my phone had mercifully hung up to spare me the embarrassment.

"Eleanor, darling. How are you?" His voice came through, light and casual, as if we hadn't spent the last week playing phone tag.

"I'm fine—are you okay? Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for days, and you never answered," I replied, my words tumbling out in a rush of concern.

"Sorry, love," he said with a nonchalant chuckle. "I've been at the pub all week, hoping to catch Damien."

"Oh, okay." I tried to mask my relief with casual interest. "I was worried something had happened. Any luck finding him?"

"Not yet," Harry sighed. "I was actually about to head over there again now."

"Do you need some company?" I asked, a hopeful smile playing on my lips.

"Sure," he replied. "I'll pick you up. See you soon."

Harry arrived not long after, and soon we were driving to the pub together. The familiar hum of the car filled the silence between us until curiosity got the better of me.

"So, you've been at the pub all week?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my curiosity was palpable.

He nodded, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Yeah."

I bit my cheek, choosing my words carefully. "I know how important this is to you, but isn't it starting to feel a bit... obsessive? You're free, Harry. You made it out. I just want to make sure you're not being reckless."

His jaw tightened, a flash of irritation crossing his face. "All I've ever done is survive, Eleanor. Just get by, day after day. I'm tired of that. Tired of all of it. I want to start living," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

I stayed quiet, sensing the tension radiating from him. I didn't want to push him further. I had said what I needed to say, and there was no point in pressing the issue. The rest of the drive stretched out in silence, a heavy stillness filling the space between us. I watched the world blur by outside the window, my mind tangled in a web of worries and unspoken thoughts.

When Harry finally pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, he let out a slow breath. He reached over, placing his hand gently on my thigh, a gesture that was both reassuring and resolute. His eyes met mine, softer now, yet still carrying that stubborn determination.

"I appreciate your concern, Eleanor. I really do," he said, his voice calmer, though there was a firm edge to it. "But I have to do this. With or without you."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said softly, my voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside me. I met his gaze, holding it with a quiet determination of my own. There was a part of me that wanted to shake him, to make him see how dangerous this could be, how close he was to losing himself in his obsession. But another part of me, the stronger part, understood that he needed to follow this path, wherever it led.