blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 31 - harry part two cont'd

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, Harry."

His existence pisses me off beyond words.

I see nothing but red as I lunge after the man who left us years ago. I am not in control of my fists as they violently attack his face.

I feel incredible as my third punch reveals blood. Or was it my fourth? Fifth? I honestly don't know at this point. Nor do I care. His pleas for me to stop and the sound of the nurses from behind me are drowned out by the rage I feel at this moment. He fucking deserves this.

I continue beating the little bitch unaware of the elapse of time that has passed. Then as if out of nowhere I lose my breath and wince from the police officer that has knocked me off my dad.

"Fuck you, fucker," I yell, ignoring my mum's cries and the officer's warning for me to calm down. I'm aware of how escalated this situation is but I just can't stop now. I have no control.

"Fuck off," I shout pushing the officer and continue my assault on the bastard who caused all of this.

His blood on my fists only urge me to continue and I feel relief as his struggle dies down and his breath grows more and more shallow. As I raise my fist to throw another punch I feel an eletric shock from behind that causes my vision to go blurry and I fall down right beside my dad almost instantly.

All of my senses are numbed as I slip into unconsciousness. The last thing I remember seeing is the slow rise and fall of my dad's chest and I inwardly curse myself for the sign of life.

As my vision gets hazy and my mind cloudy I see what looks like a petite angel and drift off to sleep.

WHEN I WAKE UP the first thing that I see is a stone ceiling with a single light hanging from it. All of my limbs are in an agonizing pain and I am stuck in this stony position. Groaning, I turn my attention to the walls on either side of me and cannot make out my location.

The walls are bland. Gray and dull.

Growing bored and in enough pain to send me into shock I give up trying to figure my location and do the only thing my body can do in this state: sleep.

I AM ONCE again met with the lightbulb confined to the ceiling; however, I am in a lot less pain than I was the last time I woke.

Regaining strength in my torso and legs I swing my legs over the hard bed and lift my body up to take in my surroundings.

I see a toilet, a small shelf, and metal bars. . .

I'm in a jail cell.

Fuck.

The last thing I remember is beating my dad before everything gets blurry. I wince at the shock of pain that courses through my body that comes from trying to think too hard and give up on the action.

You really fucked up, my subconscious teases.

"Yea. . . no shit man," I say to myself but obviously loud enough to catch the attention of the officer guarding my cell.

"You're finally awake," the officer says in a monotone voice without breaking eye contact with whatever it was he was looking at ahead of him.

"Don't I get a phone call or something of the sorts?" I ask.

"How long have I been here?" I question right after not giving him time to answer my first.

"About five days," the officer says and my heart instantly drops.

"Five days," I exasperate a little too loudly, earning 'shh's' from the officer and my other jail mates.

"You were in the jail emergency for most of your time here. Just moved in to your cell this morning since the doc cleared ya for recovery," he clarifies in an accent I'm not familiar with.

Letting his words sink in I try to remember what has happened these passed days and can't seem to remember shit.

"Why can't I seem to remember anything?" I ask confused. My memory is failing me and it's honestly starting to piss me off.

"That could be because you bumped your head pretty bad after being tased by Officer Holmes," the guard officer continues without turning around.

I was tased. Fuck.

That must've been what fucked me up after I went ballistic on the little fucker.

I smirk at the thought of him squirming beneath me. Bastard.

"So how long am I in for?" I ask anxiety rising.

"Nine months," he begins and my heart sinks even further down. I can't believe this is happening. I really fucked up this time.

"Is what it would've been if your friend hadn't have bailed you out," the office finishes.

I let out a sigh of relief and roll my eyes at the officer's ploy to get me down.

My friend?

Ha.

Don't have any.

Who could have bailed me o-

"Do you happen to know the name of this. . . friend?" I ask lifting my body up much too fast, eliciting a shock of pain.

Fuck.

It couldn't be.

"I think his name was Harper or something like that. . . I don't know man. Enough questions. You are allowed one phone call until your friend comes to pick you up. He should be here in about an hour or so. He's come by every day to check on you since," he says his voice trailing off.

I see his cheekbones raise slightly from behind, him smiling, at what I assume is the pleasantness of 'my friend'.

"Nice kid. Don't understand why he's associated with the likes of you," the officer spits, venom laced in his voice.

Parker bailed me out. I can't believe this. After the way I treated him? The douche officer is right. I don't deserve him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The thought of Parker excusing my actions and making sure that I was okay makes me sick to my stomach when I think of the way I treated him.

How did he even know where I was?