𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

68.

"I can't afford to think about something going wrong."

His long fingers stroke my cheek and play with my hair. He falls quiet, sensing my hurt.

"Sutton's pregnant," I then tell him. "She told me at the pier."

"Shit, really?"

I smile, running my hands up and down his back to feel his skin. "She's really excited, but she hasn't told Zayn." My hands stop when I slowly feel my heart sink. "So whatever happens tomorrow... it falls on me."

Harry leans forward and kisses my head. He softly hushes me as a way to stop me from blaming myself. "Zayn is going to get out of there after doing his part. He's going to leave and meet Sutton and I'm going to make sure of it," he soon assures.

I can feel the heavy weight that's pushing me onto the verge of tears. When Harry hugs me, I hug him back tightly. "Please... I'm so scared," I finally admit out loud. "He has to make it out so that he can be with Sutton and have their family."

"He will," Harry mumbles into my hair as the emotional push wins. "My love, he will... It's going to be okay."

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the tears that trail down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them with the back of my hand as he continues to hold me.

"Look at me," he then pleads and pulls back.

I sniffle and try to compose myself when I look at him. His eyes stare right into mine as I feel his thumb slide across my chin.

"It's going to be okay," he repeats. "I'll see you again when it's over. Hold onto that, my wife."

I nod again and I softly repeat, "I'll see you again when it's over."

"Close your eyes."

I listen to him, closing my eyes and feeling the soft burn of tiredness. The more he plays with my hair, the sleepier I get. His soft caresses and his warmth are just enough. I fall asleep by the time I counted his seventh breath.

____

The moment I woke up from a sleep my body needed, everything moved quickly. At six A.M., I held a meeting with the Angelos. By six-thirty, the people in the safe house were waking up. I then tried to eat, but I ended up feeling sick to my stomach. By seven, I had walked up and down the halls, pretending as if I had something to do. Really I had been going over the plan in my head, over and over.

A bit after eight in the morning, I ran into my dad.

"Morning, Sunshine," he greeted, having me stop in my steps.

"Hi, Dad."

"What were you doing?" He raised an eyebrow and then pushed his glasses by the bridge to adjust.

"Nothing," I told a small lie. I then took in what he was wearing when it caught my eye. I smiled a little because seeing my father in pajamas had always been rare to me. Christmas mornings or on days off were the only times I'd get to see him look like my dad—not a neurosurgeon with no time on his hands. "Sleep well?"

"Never thought a twin bed would be so comfy," he commented.

I bit my bottom lip when I knew I had to tell him what I would be doing today. I looked down because I didn't quite know where to begin.

"Jo," my dad said when he noticed my shift. "What is it?"

"I have to tell you something, but you have to promise you'll trust me enough to not get mad."

"Oh no," he mumbled, turning to face me completely. Preparing himself, he fixed his posture.

And then I told him. Midway, he frowned at what I was going to put myself through.