Jump | H.S.

Chapter 14

Jumper's P.O.V.

I wake up to the sunset resting on my face. Trying to turn my neck, I let out a whimper, knowing I slept completely wrong.

Harry is snoring below me. Plump lips slightly parted, curls in his face. I rest my chin on his chest, before slowly turning my neck and laying my ear to his heart. I can feel his chest rise at every breath he makes. It is a soothing sound, one that could calm a person completely.

I blink as I admire the pattern in the back of the sofa, thinking about our earlier conversation. I feel like a burden has been lifted off my chest, knowing that someone knows some of my story. I don't know Harry very much, but I do know I trust him. Arguments or not I trust him with my whole being. I don't think there is a way that I can't trust him, especially after all he's done.

It's crazy how I do trust him, considering how I'm used to being treated by men. But Harry's different. He hasn't tried to make a move, force himself on me, or done anything that would put me in an awkward position. But instead he's protected me. Saved me even, and I can't thank him enough.

I try to divert my thoughts from the memories playing through my mind, as I think of that terrible day, but the pictures kept returning back, refusing to let me think of another incident.

Cigarette smoke was so thick in the air, it almost seemed you could cut it with a knife. Residue of the smoke was on all the furniture, walls, windows; ruining the entire building.

I should've known right when I entered that God forsaken place, that it wasn't just any auction. But I didn't know. Not even with the smirk that Mike had plastered on his face, did I suspect anything. I've never been to an auction, I didn't know how they were.

I can still feel the heat of the lights on my bare back as I stood waiting for the bids to be placed, signaling they've been on for quite some time, telling me their were many girls before me.

My breath begins to speed up, as I think of the moment I was sold. I was guided back down the hallway, told to wait in a room.

It was a boiler room, steam pouring from pipes as I continued to wait for my owner, all the while sitting in a chair while some guy dressed in a black suit made sure I didn't go anywhere.

I was sold like a dog, and no one even cared. All they wanted was sex. Sex and lots of it. It's not even like I radiated a lot of pleasure, it was my first fucking time. I barely even knew how it went.

I remember when the stained door was creaking open, I knew I was going to be taken away. Taken and stripped of the shame I had left.

Surprisingly, he would've been handsome in any other situation. White suit, expensive watch, gold cufflinks, deep brown eyes, light auburn hair, tall figure. But he disgusted me the second I laid eyes on him.

He had a sick grin, and I couldn't help but cry. It showed I was weak, but that's what I was; weak. I remember almost falling on my knees, but being pulled up by the bastard in black. I had no energy left, none. Especially with the fact Mike was standing right there. Watching how I was suffering, not caring about me, just the money my body would bring in.

I began to vomit on the damp cement, and the man clearly shown his disgust towards my behavior, when he pulled me by my hair, out of the room, outside.

He pushed me to the ground, all the men laughing at me as I lie there sick. I remember wanting to die, praying to God hoping he'd have mercy on me before he got a hold of me. But God didn't help.

When my stomach was empty, I was yanked back up, dragged over to a black SUV. I can still feel every bump on the road, as I sat by Mike and the guy, that to this day I don't even know his name, sat on the other side of me.

I was so scared, I counted the bumps every time the tires hit one. Tears streamed from my eyes, running what was left of my mascara down my face.

Mike was annoyed at my behavior, disappointed, embarrassed. "C'mon, Jumper," he sighs, annoyance heavy in his words. "Stop being a little bitch. You're not going to die, and think of all the money were going to receive from this. You and I, richer then God's Son."

I sniffled as I let out more sobs. I didn't care about money, I cared about my body. Mentally and physically.

We didn't keep that money anyway. Mike got into a biker gang, throwing away his money on beer and cigarettes, leaving me to sell my body to just get more money.

I hate him. I hate how he ruined my life, and doesn't even care. I hate him how after we arrived at the guys house, Mike helped me out of the car, up the stairs.

How he walked into the man's bedroom behind us, reclining on the love seat in the corner of the room. How he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and began to smoke while watching the sick man undress the thin layer of clothing my body wore.

I wanted a new life. New beginnings. When I met Mike, I thought he would give me them, but never in that way imaginable.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I still remember his hands skimming my naked body, making me whimper as he'd roam places that I never even touched unless it was to be cleaned.

I can see Mike's face now. A sick grin overbearing his face, as the cigarette was stuck out the side of his mouth. He mouthed to me a "Good job," right before I was pushed back onto the bed.

I can feel tears pour from my eyes, as I shake. My fist fists the material of Harry's shirt, as my eyes dampen it.

I bury my face into his chest, not caring if he wakes up. I actually need him to wake up. I need to forget about the bastard that doesn't care for anyone but himself, I need to forget about the auction, I need to forget about all the other times I was sold, and I need to think of the positive things in my life. But it only seems that the negative outnumbers the positive.

"Jumper?" his voice comes out deep and raspy. "Are you okay?" I shake my head no, as I wrap my arms the best I could around his torso, hugging him tightly. "Shh," he tries to calm me as he sits up, pulling me closer to him. "It's going to be okay." I know he only wants to make me better, but he doesn't know how I feel. How I will always feel from those memories. It will never be okay.

He rubs circles in my back, whispering 'it'll be okay' in my ear over and over. His other hand runs through my hair, as he gently kisses my head.

I know Harry's not a romantic, but at this moment, he could've fooled everyone. I love how Harry is shut off, hating the world, yet he was so eager to let me in even though he still doesn't tell me much about himself. It's just the fact I'm here, in his apartment and being soothed by him, a man that gets sore throats from having a conversation.

I have such strong feelings for this man that's holding me. Such large feelings, but it scares me, because I don't know his past. I don't know what he's done, and I don't know what he's capable of. But I do know the positive. How even though he barely knew me, he was there for me. He protected me. He protects me.

His rubbing ceases, and soon he's just holding me. Arms around my body, chin rested on my skull. We stay silent, but I want to talk. I want to tell him how thankful I am for him, how I'm glad God didn't take me because it brought me to him, how my feelings continue to grow in the short period he's holding me.

But I don't say anything. Neither of us do. The only sound that is being made, is a faint sniffle every now and then escaping through my nostrils.