DIRTY BULLETS

chapter thirteen

I DIDN'T GET much sleep that night.

When I heard the men coming my way, it was as though that sound thawed my frozen state and I didn't think twice before I raced as fast as I could back to my room, unseen. After what happened with Harry, the last thing I wanted was to face the sure slander I would get from his men. And since their boss was... well, occupied who was going to stop them from doing something to me?

As soon as my feet felt that familiar carpet and my back pressed against my closed door, my head faced override. Letting my back slide down the door, I dropped myself to the ground, my legs pulling to my chest as my whole body shook.

The one person that I didn't want to run into tonight, and of course with my luck, it didn't consider my hopes.

God, I'd fucked it. How was I going to get out of this? What was going to happen to me? How could I be so stupid as to practically walk right into him? My foolishness baffled me sometimes.

It clearly must've looked like I was trying to escape so surely, Harry wouldn't let this go unpunished. The phrase 'actions speak louder than words' sprung to mind, and his words were already always spoken so damn loud, I really dreaded to know what his actions would be for my consequences. I had given him a reason to act anyway; I had gone against what he said.

But then another thought slinked towards the front of my frenzied mind - why didn't he confront me when he saw me?

I supposed he wasn't alone, and he wasn't going to threaten my when he could fuck and just threaten me tomorrow.

So that begged the question, why didn't I speak up while I had the chance? The one possibility of help and I didn't take it. It was as though I had suddenly fallen mute and the overwhelming emotions that drowned all senses didn't allow me to think logically, to act the way my mind screamed at me to.

Though, as I thought about it more, it probably was more rational to stay quiet than not. Had I spoken up, who was to say that Harry wouldn't then trap the other girl too? Or if she wasn't of any worth then maybe she would've been killed. The girl was stood in his building, against his door with him stood in front of her. Of course, it wouldn't be so easy as for me to just tell the girl in front of Harry and then for the girl to simply leave and get help. Harry would've stopped her; he would've dealt with her. And it would've been my fault.

As I continued to sit on the floor by my door, dread slithered over me like an anaesthetic numbing my body and dulling my brain to emptiness. I should be freaking out, crying, panicking, anything. That's how anyone would react in this situation, but instead I was just sat there in a state of complete shock and disbelief. There was only one thought offered to me and that was simply, what would tomorrow bring? Though, instead of it suggesting an idea of hope and potential, it only throttled me with dismay and the one constant I seemed to hold; goddamn fucking fear.

-

"She was wandering the fucking corridors, Will." Harry spat at the blonde. The vein on the side of his neck pressed against the surface of his skin as it showed the rage that pumped his blood.

It was the next day, and Harry was pacing and berating, his fury nearly causing the room to shake as he shouted and swore at the man. But to his frustration his words seemed to be having the same effect on Will as a feather in the line of gunfire.

"How the fuck did she get out of her room, huh?" He barked, his eyes narrowing on his friend that leaned comfortably against the wall in the main room. Bringing his third cigarette up to his mouth, Harry raised his eyebrows mockingly as he waited for a surely insufficient answer.