No Control

I Could Use Somebody

A few things:

1. Made a seperate book for author's notes instead of flooding this book with them.

2. Probably doesn't interest you guys, but I have been asked if someone could translate Stockholm Syndrome, and I am so pumped for that! Yes, it's in a language I don't understand (Russian) but it's still amazing to me, so there are now two other versions of Stockholm Syndrome.

The Russian version by @larryespain

And the Camren version by @CatiaPinheiro4

3. Thinking about making a spotify playlist for both this book and S.S. and you guys can make recommendations if you want.

4. Lots of angst, so read on 😝

Chapter 63:

LOUIS

I drove as fast as I could, hardly caring about the speed laws or any laws for that matter. Until Lincoln could get together the records from the money frauds and we found Druer, there was nothing we could do but desperately look for which property he's holed up in.

I came to the property, a giant house made up of mostly glass and marble. Sure it was impressive, but it was a perfect cover-up for the bastard that lived inside. The asshole who would never see another day if he so much as put a hand on my fiancé.

I drove up to the gate, ramming into it without any care but it proved to be unbreakable. I backed out and stopped the car, climbing out as soon as the engine stopped. I walked up to the gate, trying to find a way around it but there was no control box or buttons. I yelled in anger as I rattled the gate, and I knew the only way passed was over.

I put the keys in my pocket and grabbed onto the gate, pulling myself up before I began to climb. I was going as fast as I could possibly go, just desperate to see Harry again. If he was even here.

I finally made it over, hissing in pain as my hand scraped the top of the metal gate- the tip pointed like an arrowhead. There was a decent cut on the palm of my hand, beeds of blood beginning to spill out, but I ignored it, not caring about the stinging pain.

I got off of the floor and ran to the house, stopping to look into the window. It seemed to be empty, which is another reason why it'd be the perfect place to hide someone away.

I went to the front door, not thinking about any consequences as I kicked the door in, hearing it bang against the wall. I ran inside, running in any random direction, searching the whole entire house to find Harry.

"Harry!" I yelled, hating how the only reply I got was the echo of my voice. I knew deep inside that nobody was here, but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to believe that I still had no idea where Harry was, that he could be hidden somewhere else, that someone could be hurting him.

"Harry!" I called again, my legs feeling weak and my heart feeling heavy as I realized this wasn't the right place. I wouldn't find him here. "Please be here." I cried, but I knew it was useless.

I sat on the floor of the entryway, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. I wanted to find him. I wanted so badly for him to be okay. I've never felt this way before- so broken up inside- not even when my mum died in the same house I was in. Because Harry was what gave me hope, life, and love. So much love.

I let out a sob, feeling weak and useless, which only made it worse. I was heavily crying, yelling in rage at my inability to do anything but worry and desperately search. I promised to protect him, but I couldn't even do that.