Jump | H.S.

Chapter 24

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," I curse as I pace around the empty room in frustration, my fingers roaming my scalp, not knowing what else to do.

The flashing colors of red and blue reflect from the walls onto my face, telling me that my father is finally here. My back is pressed up against the musty wall, as my body slides down, defeat punching me in the damned face.

"Is it clear?" I hear dad ask Paul.

"Its clear!" I shout, my voice getting stuck in my throat.

"Harry, are you okay?" Paul asks as both of them run inside, their pistols in their hands ready for fire.

"They're gone. He took her, so much for protecting her," I say, my eyes focused on the wall opposite me. "They could be anywhere in the world right now, and I can't even be there for her."

A silent moment passes, and I know I should check airports, call numbers, but I feel numb almost like my body's here but my soul isn't.

"Harry, there isn't-"

"Stop!" I shout, as I quickly stand from the concrete floor. "Don't say their isn't anything I could've done. You know nothing!" I scream, my hands moving around showing my anger. "If I wasn't such a dumb ass, she wouldn't have left! If she didn't leave, we could be home eating spaghetti!" I didn't take much thought to the word 'home' until I used the word we. We could be home together, eating that fucked up pasta we just love so much.

"You didn't know this would happen!" He shouts back, his face red from anger as his index finger is shoved in my face. "Stop blaming yourself!"

"I did know!" I fume in reply, anger taking up the sadness. "I knew that if she walked out of those doors she'd walk right back into his life. But did I stop her? No! Because I'm am idiot!"

"You're not an idiot!" His voice echos off the walls, running back to me like another damn punch in the face. "You didn't, I don't give a shit what you think you knew was going to happen, you didn't know."

I want to slam him against the wall, curse in his face, tell him he doesn't know jack about me. But I can't move as the thought of what's happening to her runs through my mind.

I know he's already hurt her, inflicted pain on her physically or mentally, probably both. He will die, by the pistol in my hand, he will feel the sheer pain of a bullet penetrating his skull, spilling his brains everywhere.

He will die, and he will die because of me.

"I need to go," I say, finally regaining myself. "Every second that passes is a second lost where something terrible could be happening to her, or maybe she could already be-" I couldn't say it, I could not process the word dead from my mouth. And I didn't want to.

"I can promise you that she won't die, as long as I can help it," my father says, trying to make me feel better. But it only made it worse.

I wanted to reply with, "Don't make promises you can't keep. It reminds me of the last shitty promise when you said you would find Darcy's killer."

I keep quiet, as I think about the evidence of the man that had his DNA on the dumpster was dead. But there's more and I will find out who killed her, even if it half kills me first.

"Lets go," I mutter as I walk past him, my shoulder shoving him roughly in an angrily manner. I was pissed, and he knew it.

"Harry, you need to calm down or you can't do this," he remarks as he follows close behind me.

"I can do what I want!" I shout, the veins in my neck protruding the skin. "I'm in this! And by God I'm going to find her!"

"Calm down!" He snaps. "You have a gun and you're pissed off, I need to know that you're mentally stable."