(DISCONTINUED)

○ 3.7 :: Screaming ○

THIS BOOK HIT 8K LIKE 2 DAYS AGO THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG

Dedicated to @6god_halsey bc you've gotten this far which means I'm doing something right so

Welcome :)

*

I came to with a groan, straightening up from the awkward position that had caused my neck to cramp. Another groan escaped me as I opened my eyes just a crack, quickly shutting them again. The overly bright lights made the pounding in my head worse.

"You just don't learn do you?" A voice mused.

My eyes snapped open, squinting until they managed to adjust. As soon as I tried to move I quickly discovered that I'd been tied to a chair, ankles and wrists bound. Every time I so much as moved the rope cut into my wrists, so I knew escape was futile. Des was somewhere in the room anyway, judging by the proximity of his voice. I couldn't see him, but I didn't have to to know who was talking to me. I surveyed my surroundings, taking in the small room we were in. It wasn't the same room I'd been in last time I'd had the wonderful pleasure of visiting this shìthole (note the heavy sarcasm), but there was another makeshift throne off to the side.

Vain, much?

A clicking sound echoed off the walls as King Dìckhead himself walked around me and into my line of sight. He bent down until our faces were level, his hands clasped behind his back, and gave me a chilling smirk. Once again I was struck by the faint similarities between him and his son - except when Des smirked, the feeling in the bottom of my stomach wasn't butterflies or any form of affection.

It was fear.

"Shame we have to keep meeting this way, hm?" He smirked patronizingly. A bubble of annoyance rose in my chest.

I spat in his face.

Des let out what could only be described as the manly version of a shriek as he hurriedly dragged his palms down his face. A guard I hadn't noticed in the corner stepped forward, offering him a handkerchief. I smirked when I spotted the smile he was attempting to hold back. He glanced at me and shot me a wink, which lifted my spirits a little. That meant he wouldn't let me die in here, right? Maybe he, like Harry, got sucked into something he didn't really want to be a part of.

"You," Des snarled, his face now saliva-free. My smirk dropped when I saw the look of fury and pure hatred burning in his eyes. One moment I was watching his hand fly towards me, the next I was staring at the wall on my right, my cheek stinging as I listened to the crack of skin hitting skin reverberate in my ears. "Now we can do this the easy way..." His fingers wrapped around my hair and he yanked roughly, bringing my face close to his. "Or the hard way." I whimpered when he tugged a little harder, as if daring me to rebel against him. He let go of my hair and I let my head hang. "You're a smart girl," he stated, beginning to circle me like a vulture. "Despite Dylan's spectacularly poor performance, I didn't think you would figure it out."

I clenched my fists. "Harry is nothing like you think-"

"But you're a smart girl who keeps making stupid decisions," he continued, as if I hadn't said a word. "And as a businessman-"

I scoffed. "You mean a psychotic criminal."

Des halted in front of me and narrowed his eyes, daring me to speak again. I kept quiet. "As a businessman who got to where he is through intelligent thinking, planning and decision-making, there are three things that piss me off the most." He lowered his face to mine, holding up three fingers. "People who talk back to me, people who make stupid decisions, and people who interfere with my work." I reared backwards as if he brought his face closer, truly uncomfortable. "And you, Katrina, are all three."