Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 9

A sudden hand under my shoulder caused me to cry out. Harry hoisted me to my feet in a matter of seconds, spinning me to look at him. His jaw was clenched in agitation.

"Will you fucking relax?" he hissed. "I fed the little runt what was on your list."

I furrowed my brows, yanking my arm out of his hold. "My what? What are you talking about?"

Harry rolled his eyes, reaching behind him, and I immediately stumbled backward, falling onto the couch with my arms raised in front of me.

"Wait! Don't shoot me!" I closed my eyes, ducking behind my outstretched arms. "I was just asking a question."

"Open your eyes." Harry snapped. "River."

I tentatively opened them back up, peering through my fingers at him, surprised to see that he was not in fact holding his gun. He dropped something into my lap. Swallowing hard, I lowered my hands and picked up what I realized was a crumpled-up piece of paper. Smoothing it out over my legs, I furrowed my brows.

"My grocery list," I half-whispered. "You took this off my fridge when you were here yesterday!"

"Well, it looked like you weren't ever going to get it done," Harry grumbled, still towering over me. "Considering the state of your fucking cupboards, I'd say you haven't bought shit in weeks."

I ran my finger over the inked writing that I had scrawled out a few days ago, noting the new little checkmarks that had been added beside each item. For some reason, the sight of it caused me to laugh and I immediately clamped a hand over my mouth.

Harry was busy lighting another cigarette as he hissed, "What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head, biting down hard on my inner cheek to keep from laughing any more. "It's just... I can't imagine you–" I looked him up and down. "–walking around buying cat food. Did you bring your gun with you?" 

"I bring my gun everywhere with me," he muttered, smoke pouring from the corners of his mouth. When he finally caught onto the fact that I was making fun of him, he took a step forward and leaned down to my level, bracing a hand on the couch behind me. "If you aren't going to eat, we're leaving."

I quickly straightened up, tucking the grocery list into my pocket and stumbling after him into the kitchen. "Wait, where?"

Harry whirled around, stopping me in my tracks. "Not to my place anymore. There's been a change in plans. We need..." He paused, taking note of my rigid stature. "Jesus, you're extra fucking jumpy today." He narrowed his eyes. "Did something happen?"

My mind flashed to the SUV. I quickly shook my head, trying to change the subject. "Why aren't we going to your place anymore?"

Harry was silent for a moment. He took a few steps until he was directly in front of me. "River," he said quietly. His tone was calm, almost lethal. A shiver ran up my spine. "What happened today?"

I looked toward our feet, backing up a step. Harry suddenly grabbed hold of my jaw and gently, but forcefully, turned me back toward him.

"I'm not going to fucking ask again," the cool metal of his rings dug into the skin of my cheeks as he muttered the words, smoke falling from his mouth and brushing over my face. "What happened?"

"Don't touch me," I hissed, closing my fingers over his wrist and pulling his hand away from me. "You. You happened..." I shook my head, trying to rally my thoughts. "There was... fuck. Ugh. I don't know. I was followed today. And I think it might have been those guys–"

Harry backed up a step, his chest suddenly heaving. He pulled the gun from his waistband so quickly that I flinched. "What the fuck?" He shouted, running a hand through his hair. "What the fuck, River? Why wasn't that the first thing you said when you fucking came in?"