Devil's Desire [h.s.]

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

By the time I re-entered the house, everyone was aflutter.

Olivia and Louis were shouting at one another, Morgan was talking under her breath to Zayn—who's mysterious wounds were now being inspected by her nimble fingers, his jaw working from side-to-side while she assessed him, and Meatloaf was running in circles at everyone's ankles, just desperate to be included. They all stopped and turned when I came shuffling through the front door, heart in my throat.

Morgan's eyes met mine from across the room. Her expression was nothing short of empathetic, but it made me wince, nonetheless. "He's—he'll be okay," I said in a small voice. "I think," my voice shook as I added, "I hope."

"It is a dumb plan," Louis said. He grunted as Olivia shoved his shoulder with a small scowl.

"I know," I replied with a huff and took a few steps into the living room, slumping down onto the couch. I drew my knees up to my chest. My mouth curved into a frown. "I know." I braved a glance sidelong at Zayn. "Did Harry hit you?"

Zayn winced. "No—"

"Yes," said Morgan, "but it's fine. Harry's doled out worse."

I kept my eyes on Zayn's face—on his cheek. His swollen eye. "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he responded quickly, ducking a foot away into the cover of the hall, where darkness shielded his face from my roaming gaze. "Did Harry say where he was going?"

"No," I rested my chin on my knees and sighed heavily.

For a moment, nobody spoke, until Morgan finally stepped forward and rested a hand on my shoulder. I forced my eyes up to meet hers. "You should get some sleep, River—"

"I'm going to stay up until Harry comes back."

"Okay, then do that upstairs, alright?" Morgan said, kneeling until she was eye level with me. "You already know he most likely won't even want to talk when he comes back anyway, so the least you can do is lie down for a bit." She jerked her chin at Olivia, who was still standing—albeit a bit awkwardly now—in the hallway by the front door. "Why don't you take Olivia upstairs?"

I had half a mind to snap at Morgan. To tell her to stop talking down to me like this. That until tonight, I'd been the one included in the workings of this plan and she'd had no problem levelling with me as her peer—not her subordinate—then, but I held my tongue. This wasn't the time.

"Yeah, fine," I breathed.

When I glanced at Olivia, I realized she was staring at Zayn now. At the blooming bruise on his face. Probably letting her mind run rampant about what he could have possibly done to warrant a physical assault from Harry. It wasn't exactly building the case that he was a good and different man from that one that I'd met at his tattoo parlour with her so many months ago.

"Liv," I murmured, forcing her gaze to mine. "Let's get you upstairs, okay?"

Louis, the ever diligent and unwilling—on Olivia's part—bodyguard, trailed behind us up the stairs carrying her suitcase. He set it down with an exaggerated huff outside the guest bedroom door. The one that, until recently, had housed the makeshift hospital bed where Angela had been looking after me. Medical supplies and other unmarked boxes still lingered in the corners as we pushed the door open, the two of us silently stepping through the threshold.

"I've never been to your mom's house," Olivia said quietly. I walked over to the nightstand beside the bed and clicked it on. Warm, yellow light flooded the small room. In the time since they'd arrived, it'd gotten dark out. My eyes flitted almost unconsciously to the window—outside—wondering where Harry was, despite being met only with a moonlit yard.