Deception - H.S

Chapter 20

"Huh?" I look at the navigation re-routing. "Sorry, I mis-read the board."

"What do you mean you mis-read the board? Can you not see?" I can see him looking at me from my peripheral vision and I can hear it in his voice that he is annoyed.

"I can, I just have a little bit of power. I don't wear glasses; I usually don't need them but reading the names of streets and exits is a little blurry." I explain in the calmest way possible.

"You can't fucking see! Why are you driving!" Why are you getting fucking agitated, Harry. I look at him, his scrunched up face, "I can see enough to drive, calm down."

"What the fuck, Whitlock. You need to get your eyes checked. Today." Who the hell does he think he is ordering me what to do?

"I know how to take care of myself so we can go back to not talking and I'm taking a coffee detour so could you please pass me my bag from the back seat." I gesture towards the back seat. He doesn't fight back which I appreciate. I see him turn and stretch to grab my bag, but when he does, his tshirt rides up, revealing a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. "Why the fuck do you have a gun Harry!" it came out louder than I thought.

"And there's the shrieking." He slams the small bag on my lap, "Harry, I'm not driving with you having a gun." I try to fight. I never expected him to have a gun for some reason. He scares me enough and now that I know he carries a gun with him, it doesn't make anything better.

He leans into me over the center counsel, placing a hand on the headrest of my seat, "Listen carefully. You are going to get your fucking coffee and keep your mouth shut while you drop me off or I swear to God I will put a fucking bullet through your head if I hear you complain again." His voice is so calm and composed, like me finding out he has a gun doesn't bother him at the slightest. Why would it bother him, he is a psychopath and he would gladly do what he said. The only other time I have ever been in an encounter with a gun recently is at Deception's concert, which still bothers me at the back of my head but it is locked in a box somewhere for now. I swallowed the very prominent lump in my throat, turning the music up to drown my thoughts and distract me from thinking about the weapon.

What the fuck am I doing with my life.

After reaching the location, which was a bar on the outskirts of the city, he told me to wait in the car no matter what. To which I then said, "Okay, but what if a maniac walks out with a big machine gun, then can I go?" which was stupid of me but he said, "No, you stay." Okay Harry, I will stay throughout a shooting because I'm more scared of you than those people with the guns. His lack of consideration for my safety is unbelievable. Surely, he wouldn't care for anyone but it feels like the carelessness is more when it comes to me.

Luckily, I didn't hear any gun shots or anything else to my surprise and Harry came out around 20 minutes later with bruised knuckles. "What happened!" I widen my eyes at his knuckles, shifting in my seat to turn my body to him as he takes a seat, "Just drive."

"Harry you're hurt!" I was filled with panic, "I'm really not in a mood and your squealing isn't helping so Just. Fucking. Drive." I cuss under my breath at his rude demeanor and start driving. As I am approached by a long empty road, I slam my foot against the gas and go above the speed limit which makes Harry shift in his seat. Is he scared? The possibility makes me smirk, it would mean he has a weakness that I know of and frankly, at this point, I would consider it a small win. "Slow down, Whitlock." He speaks cautiously.

"Why? Are you afraid?" I repeat the words he once said to me but this time I'm the one in control and I'm the one smirking. "No. I just don't trust your driving at all so slow the fuck down." He continues to speak cautiously like I'm drunk, standing on the edge of a roof and he is trying to talk me down.