[Sequel to Home]
Years after her heartbreaking relationship with Harry, all Eleanor has to show for it are the memories that haunted her and their beautiful daughter. For the first time in a long time, she thinks its finally all over.
Harry, danger...
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Harry P.O.V
I don't know how to process what just happened. All I know is that Desmond has to die and soon. I will not lose another person to that man. I refuse too.
"How the fuck did you allow him to catch them?" I furiously shout to the men in front of me.
I rounded up everyone that had been working with Niall and Liam. The group of men that were supposed to protect them. Yes they were grown men but security is paid for a reason. Besides the fact that they have important jobs that aren't easily replaced.
They were my best friends too. Having their heads delivered to me in boxes gutted me. I'd seen a lot in this life that things like that shouldn't phase me. It's always different when it's people you care about. Hits you a bit harder.
"We were ready to fight for them. But they told us to stand down and warn you instead." Maximus, one of the men explains. As if that was supposed to be good enough.
"So you just let him take them? Why didn't you kill him!" I screech throwing the closest thing next to me against the wall. They flinch as pieces of the wooden chair fly past us as they bounce back from the wall.
My hands are itching to get the closest gun to me but that wouldn't be enough. I know that no matter what I do, it won't bring them back. Nothing is making feel better and I know I'm only angering myself more in questioning them.
I'm tired of being a good guy at the moment. Of having morals, of having a conscious. So I just shut off. Anything that would remind me that these men were fathers and sons. Gone like that.
The gun makes it way into my hand. I level the revolver at Maximus's chest, my fingers quaking as the cold metal grows, increasingly heavy with the passing second.
He spoke, his voice a soft plea, "Harry, please. Don’t do this."
My face only grew more grim. My grip tightened on the trigger.
Speaking into the cold air with a cutting tone, I reply, "You're all going to join them. I hope you enjoyed your lives up to here."
With a breath and a blink of an eye, I didn’t even feel my finger twitch on the trigger. The shot is muffled and I can only watch, still, as he stumbles back and stares down at the red blossoming on his chest, before collapsing to the floor.
The other tried to run but once I get going there's no other end for them. I'm a sadistic fuck but the circumstances can't make me care otherwise.
