"We'll discuss that tomorrow when I'm sober." He says a little harshly but keeps his voice low. He then leaves the room locking the door behind him once again.
I stare at the closed door wondering what could possibly be going through that thick skull of his. What the hell does he want with my father? Is my father doing things behind my back? I rub my face with both hands out of frustration. Why is this happening to me?
I lay on my back of the uncomfortable bed and stare at the ceiling. The room got darker as the night went on and I became too tired to try and stay awake. My eyes failed me and closed with out permission and placed me into a deep sleep.
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"Wake the fuck up!" I hear a voice growl and my eyes shot open. What the hell? I sit up quickly realizing Harry was standing over me with the meanest look on his face. "I've called your name so many times, Dawn." He sighs, irritability clear in his voice.
"Sorry." I say, not really sure what to say. I didn't even realize how tired I was.
"It's noon, now. You must be hungry since you haven't eaten all day yesterday." He says uncuffing my ankle. I actually really am hungry, but I didn't think he'd feed me so I started to ignore the loud cries my stomach was making. He gestures for me to get up and follow him. I get up slowly and he grips my arm pulling me outside of the room.
He drags me down the darkly lit hallway to a staircase. I take in my surroundings and realize that I'm in a normal looking house. He moves swiftly while he walks down the stairs and practically has me running just to keep up with him.
Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I notice straight ahead is the front door. "Don't even think about it." He says noticing my stare. I look back at it as I follow him to the kitchen.
He points for me to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen island and he begins pulling things from the cabinet. I take this time to take everything in about him. He's dressed up in black skinny jeans, and a white t-shirt. A watch wraps around his wrist, not too loose, but not too tight. His curls are long, cascading down his shoulders. I notice he runs his hands through his hair a lot. And his hands. Rings on almost every finger.
"Here." He slides a bowl of fruity pebbles in front of me snapping me from my thoughts, he places a spoon next to the bowl and then takes a seat across from me. Hesitant, I look down at the bowl and my stomach instantly begins speaking again. I pick up the spoon and begin shoving it down my throat. I haven't eaten since the night of that party.
"I know you have questions." He starts as I finish the rest of my cereal. I look up at him waiting for him to finish. "I'll tell you everything you wanna know." He sits back against the stools back, crossing his muscular and tan arms across his toned chest.
"Where are we?" I start.
"Tennessee."
What the fuck? Why are we all the way in Tennessee?
"Why am I here?" I say setting the spoon down inside the bowl.
"You're here because of your father." He simply states.
"I don't understand. How do you know my father? And what the hell do I have to do with it?" I spit, my anger boiling up in me.
"Watch it." He snaps. "You're father owes me a shit ton of money."
"Money? Why would he owe you money? How do you know him?" I ask, confused.
"You're father has worked for me for years, love. You see, I run a strict business here. I have people who work for me to help run it, your father being one of them." He states leaning his arms on the table.
"What kind of business?"
"Nothing you need to know about." He sighs. He runs his hand through his hair again. "Usually he's pretty good with keeping up with the business. But lately, he's been slacking off with payments. Why? I have no fucking clue, and it's been pissing me off."
"How much does he owe you?" I dare to ask.
"Fifty grand." He says through gritted teeth.
"No. There's no fucking way my dad owes anybody any kind of money. My dad doesn't do shit like this, he's a realtor and that's it." I say angrily standing from my stool. He stands up leaning across the table.
"Yes he does. Whether you like it or not, he does. Where the fuck do you think he gets all that money from? He gets that money from me!" He says angrily, banging his fist against the counter causing me to jump. "And he hasn't been giving bringing in any of what he owes me."
"No." I say shaking my head, wanting to cry. "I don't believe you."
"Now, money is the most valuable thing to me in this entire world. It's all I care about. If I can't have the most valuable thing to me, your father can't have the most valuable thing to him. That's you. He gets me the fifty grand, you can go home. If not, you're stuck here with me." He grins devilishly.
"He'll just call the police on you, Harry." I say, hot tears falling from my eyes.
"Oh darling, if he knew better, which I know he does, he wouldn't dare to call the police. You wanna know why?" He begins to walk around the corner, his body hovering from behind me. He puts his lips close to my ear, I can feel him breathing which causes goosebumps to rise on the surface of my skin. "Because I'll just end up having to kill you. And he'll just have to admit to the police what kind of illegal work he's been doing as well, and you and I both know he doesn't want either of those things to happen." He smirks
"And before he even has a chance to say anything to the police, I'll kill him too." He snaps.
My breath has been caught in the back of my throat, I was now full on crying.
"And besides," He backs away from me a little, enough for me to turn around and face him. "He doesn't know what I look like."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I don't show my face to anybody that works for me. I have people who get the money for me and bring it back to me. So if someone who works for me gets caught, they can't throw my name in the mix. I'm not stupid enough to get myself caught in some bullshit. I'm not one you should fuck around with, Dawn." He finishes.
"Let's go." He says grabbing my arm and pulling me out the kitchen and back up the stairs. The tears are slowly falling down my face as we enter the bedroom. He pushes me towards the bed and take my spot back on the bed. He yanks on my ankle harshly, pulling my entire body towards the end of the bed. He brings the cuffs back around my ankle before letting my foot drop back to the bed. He gives me one last look before turning on his heel and slamming the door shut behind him.
I stare at the door in disbelief, taking in all the heartbreaking information about my father. Why would he do something like this? I thought I knew him better than that. There's no way my father would get himself into a dangerous situation like this. He could get himself in a lot of trouble with the cops too if they were to find out. None of this makes sense. My father wouldn't do something like this.
I just can't believe this, this was all too much to take in at once. My heart is aching, my anxiety levels are through the roof, and I just want to go home.
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