The Merciless (h.s.)

Chapter Fifteen

Arabella

Harry's tantalized voice stuns me stock-still, every living cell flowing through my bloodstream, every nerve and muscle lining up my unique anatomy, is suddenly paralyzed in pure and utter terror. Frozen. Bone-chilled.

I try my absolute best to steady my shaky breathing, desperate to ease this severe perturbation. Harry's fast beating heart almost breaks through his chest and pounds right into my back. The pattering pulses beat together. Except, Harry's heart thumps hard because of adrenaline and exhilaration, while mine is out of trepidation and pure fear. I breathe heavily through my nose, his hand still guarding my mouth. He doesn't trust the sounds that are ready to fly out of it.

Harry's strong arms are firmly latched around me, one arm strapped around my torso and the other taped to my lips. It's as if he is preparing to perform a faltered version of the Heimlich. But, even if he was staring at me from ten or twenty yards away, I still wouldn't have the power to make any kind of getaway. His menacing aura has such a tightening grip alone that it has the power to completely immobilize me.

I can smell Harry's spearmint and evil laced breath while his lips abrade the skin of my ear.

"Listen to me very carefully..."Harry snarls. "You are not going to make a fucking sound. If you even make the slightest fucking peep, I will rip out your vocal cords right here with my bare goddamn hands and wrap them around your throat. Do you understand me?"

Fear is the driving force behind my expeditious nod against Harry's chest, the top of my head just barely able to nibble at his chin. His threats are what hold me hostage, having an awful feeling in the pit of my nauseous stomach that they aren't empty.

"Let's test if that puny little brain is working for once," Harry's hot breath burns my skin like my head is right up against an open flame.

His hand slides off my mouth and transcends down my jaw and latching firmly onto my neck.

Harry's detention of my neck makes it hard to get a solid breath out. I don't make a sound. I even keep my staggered breathing mute.

"That's a good girl..." Harry perilously coos after hearing nothing but the resilient nature of the night and my hesitant breaths. He speaks to me as if he's talking to a pet animal who just performed a nifty trick.

Oh. I'm so fucked.

"We're going to back up a few steps here, right into the street. You are to walk straight. into. the. car. If you try to run, I will tie your legs together and break your own fucking arms to do it. I will use your own little fucking body to tie you hostage and shut you up. You got that?" Harry's harsh whisper caresses my earlobe, his tone very encouraging and even a little bit soothing while he spits the most lethal threats.

The last time Harry spoke to me this gently while spitting deadly words he immediately gave into his urges to defile me. The worst part is, I happily submitted to the temptation. I was able to come out from under him alive that time, and shamefully yearning for a little bit more myself. Although, I would never admit that out loud.

But, this is different: this tone of voice and the softness of his vile words. I fear that Harry isn't going to give into any other impulse tonight other than killing me. I can feel the hand stuck to my neck, literally itching to squeeze the life out of me already.

My nerves twitch as Harry pulls me a few steps backwards, my spine still affixed to his chest. Harry's bruised fingers stay padlocked onto my windpipes as one step turns to three, and then three steps turns to seven, then seven steps turns to twelve until I officially give up counting how many paces I must conquer before facing my imminent doom.