Reckless {HS}

fifty-two

Harry's Pov

She saw. She wasn't supposed to see that.

The image of Delilah's wide, terrified eyes burned in the back of my mind as I washed the blood from my hands, scrubbing harder than necessary as if the force could erase what had just happened. The blood ran in streaks down the sink, swirling in the drain, but the guilt didn't leave with it. Her expression was seared into my brain. The shock. The fear. The betrayal.

How could I have let her walk into that?

The water was still running, but I turned it off, gripping the sides of the sink, my knuckles turning white. She had seen Anderson, tied to that chair, and seen me, covered in blood, doing exactly what I'd tried to shield her from all this time. What had she thought when she saw me? Did she even recognize me? Could she even still look at me the same?

The more I thought about it, the heavier the weight on my chest became. She had run out. Didn't even wait for an explanation. Not that there was a good one. But still. I should've chased her down immediately. I should've stopped her from leaving, held her still and made her listen. But what could I have said? "It's not what it looks like"? No, it was exactly what it looked like. There was no other way to spin this. I was exactly what she feared—dangerous. Dark. Everything I'd kept hidden.

I grabbed a towel, drying off my hands quickly, but it felt pointless. The water might've cleaned my skin, but it couldn't clean what had happened.

I needed to find her.

Leaving Anderson tied up in the basement felt risky, but I couldn't think about that right now. He wasn't going anywhere, and the boys wouldn't be back for a while. This was more important. She was more important.

Where could she have gone?

I stepped out of the bathroom and headed straight for the door, trying to push down the panic that was starting to well up. She had run off so fast. She couldn't have gone far. Maybe she went home? No, that wouldn't make sense. She wouldn't want to go back there, not in the state she was in. But she wouldn't want to come back here either. She didn't trust me. Not anymore. She had seen too much, and now I was the monster in her eyes.

I cursed under my breath and slammed the door behind me, stepping out into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, only the faint sounds of distant cars and occasional voices from open windows. I started walking, scanning the area for any sign of her, my pulse quickening with every passing second. Where would she go? I checked the direction toward her apartment but found no trace of her.

The sidewalk felt endless as I turned corner after corner, my thoughts spiraling faster than my feet could carry me. Had she been running? Was she afraid I'd follow? Or had something else happened to her?

The thought stopped me cold.

What if something had happened to her? What if running away from me had put her in danger? She was vulnerable, shaken up. Anyone could've noticed her. Anyone could've—

Stop. Think. Focus.

I started walking again, my eyes darting from side to side. The neighborhood wasn't exactly safe at night. If anyone knew who she was with—or who I was—it could mean trouble. My gut twisted with the thought, and I quickened my pace. If something had happened to her because of me...

That's when I saw it.

A small purse, dropped carelessly at the entrance to an alleyway. It was half-tucked against the wall, barely visible unless you were looking for it. My stomach sank.

I crouched down and picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I opened it. My heart stopped when I saw what was inside: Delilah's ID.

I stared at the small plastic card in my hand, her face staring back at me. The confirmation of it hit me like a ton of bricks. This was hers. She had been here. Something happened to her, and I wasn't there to stop it. My hands tightened around the edges of her ID, my knuckles going white.

Where is she?

I scanned the alley, stepping in just a few feet, but there was nothing. No sign of her, no sign of anyone else. Just silence and the faint hum of the streetlights above. My heart was pounding in my ears, loud and insistent. I couldn't lose her. Not now.

Think, think, think.

Had someone grabbed her? Taken her from the street? The more I thought about it, the more my chest constricted. She could be anywhere. Hurt. Scared. In danger. And it was all because of me. She was involved in this world because of me.

I slipped her ID back into her purse, gripping it tightly as I stepped out of the alley, my mind spinning in a thousand directions. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I couldn't stop now. I had to find her.

I glanced back at the street, trying to think like them. If someone had taken her, where would they go? There weren't a lot of places nearby, but there were some. Empty buildings, old warehouses, places people didn't usually bother looking. They wouldn't have gone far. They couldn't have.

I started moving, my feet carrying me down the street as my eyes darted around, searching for any clue, any sign. I should've known better. I should've kept her away from this. But I let her get close, too close. Now she was paying for it.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

I replayed the last few hours in my head, thinking about her walking into my house, the look of horror on her face, the way she ran without looking back. And now this. Her ID. Her purse. The alley.

I had to find her before it was too late.