Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 18

I blew out a small breath, trying to steady myself.

"Scary drug man?" My eyes flew open to Harry standing right in front of me. I furrowed my brows for a second, confused as to what the fuck he was talking about when he suddenly pulled my phone from his pocket.

"Dude!" I angrily hissed, yanking it from his outstretched hand. My eyes shot up to meet his. "What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

Harry shrugged, reaching over to grab the gun from the coffee table where he tucked it back into his waistband. "I had to. I needed to know if you'd told anyone about what you've seen."

My mouth parted in shock. "I told you I didn't! How the fuck did you even get my password?"

Harry, as usual, ignored me. Immediately, I tried to wrack my brain as to what he could've seen. My social media, my text messages, my notes app, my–

"Oh my God," I blurted, "Did you go through my camera roll?"

Harry turned from where he was currently headed toward the kitchen, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn't know a girl could own so much lingerie," he remarked innocently, "Send those pictures to anyone special, River?"

My face flushed, heat crawling all the way up to the tips of my ears. I shot to my feet; my phone clutched so tightly in my hand that I wouldn't at all be surprised if the screen cracked.

"Fuck you!" I shouted, yanking the sleeve of his shirt to turn him back toward me. "That's so fucking gross what you did. It's a huge invasion of privacy."

Harry, who had pulled a cigarette from his pocket, rolled his eyes. "Relax. I didn't specifically go through your fucking phone to look at your nudes–"

"Well, you saw them!" I snapped. "What the fuck could I possibly have been hiding in my camera roll?"

"You could have taken pictures at the dinner or the warehouse," Harry's eyes shone with rage. "I had to do it, River. As great as your fucking word is, you haven't had the tendency to make great decisions since I've known you."

"Fuck you," I repeated through gritted teeth. "You saw everything then, did you?" My hands were trembling as I took a step closer. "The group chat where my friends and I talked for over an hour the night I got my tattoo about how much of a fucking prick you were? How we all agreed we hate you?"

A muscle in Harry's jaw feathered. He blew out a sharp breath through his nose. "I did see that, yeah." He flashed me a malicious grin. "Kind of funny though that you'd be hung up on me enough to talk about it for that long, huh? Seems like a bit of an obsession, if you ask me."

My next reaction was to put both of my hands on his chest and shove him backwards. Harry didn't even stumble.

"Get out of my apartment."

He rolled his eyes. "Get dressed, River. We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

"I'm not going," I spat. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Look," Harry grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him, the curls around his face bobbing as he lowered his head. "Be pissed at me all you fuckin' want, but I had to do it." He paused for a split second, chest heaving. "Now go to your fucking room and get dressed so that I don't have to nearly kill a guy again because you don't know how to properly defend yourself."

He let go of my wrist with a small thrust, sending me a few steps backward. I was still staring at him, arms crossed tightly over my chest, while he lit his cigarette. He slid his eyes to mine, huffing out an irritated sigh, before mumbling, "If you're so worked up about it, keep that aggression and take it out on me later today."