ch.49 His key

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“ANGELA!” Harry shouted and his voice shook the already creaky metal staircase.

I started skipping steps in an effort to get to the bottom faster, but that only made Harry even more determined to reach me. He leapt forward about ten feet and climbed down two full flights of stairs. For a lying bastard, he sure had a lot of nerve.

“Angie, please!” he called anxiously now.

His voice was dangerously close this time. I turned around slightly and saw that he wasn’t more than 15 or 20 feet away from me.

My chest tightened and I held my breath. I started to take two steps at a time, but it was no use. Harry caught up with me and grabbed my wrist in his stupid sturdy hands.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” I yelled as I tried to shake off his iron grip.

“ANGELA, NOTHING HAPPENED!” he shouted. I looked into his eyes briefly and saw the frustration and desperation boiling inside him. But it was boiling inside me, too.

“THAT’S BECAUSE I INTERRUPTED YOU!” I retorted harshly.

And it was probably true; Harry had most-likely come out of the shower with her. God knows how long they’ve been at it. Now the image of Becky on top of Harry burned in my skull; it made me sicker than when I felt guilty.

And that’s what hurt me the most, that I had hurt Harry once. I had hurt Becky, too. They deserved to get revenge. I just had to suck it up and stop being so selfish.

Harry swallowed hard for a moment. Then he shook his head quickly and stared at me as if he could burn the truth into my eyes that way.

I took slow, heavy breaths as I realized that Liam was right all along: Becky had much more in common with Harry than I did; they were both domineering bastards. My stomach did a flip as I thought about Liam rotting away in his grave. I thought  about his untimely death and the honesty of his words.

“ANGELA, LISTEN TO ME!” Harry demanded and he practically shoved me against the brick wall.

“LET GO!” I screamed, but he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them against the dense bricks. His hard lean body acted as a shield that pressed against me enough to make escape somewhat impossible.

“Angie, please, listen to me!” he asked more desperately now.

He loosened his grip around my wrists and held my face instead as he tried make me look at his beautiful, but deceitful face.

I shook my head and refused to look him in the eyes, those damn marble-like forest-green eyes. I was tired of listening to his words, whether they were written or spoken. I was tired of listening to his heart and his breath and his body.

“Baby-” he spoke softer now, attempting to win back some sort of sympathy from me.

Baby? I had almost had his baby.

I shook my head. I would have been two and a half months pregnant and had to raise the child on my own.

“Angie, she came over crying and I let her in” Harry began explaining.

I stared at him and swallowed hard. I looked down, knowing that his statement was plausible, but I was still far from forgiving him.

Harry took my silence as an opportunity to continue.

“She started taking a shower and then I heard her scream Blood Mary, so I knocked on the door to see if she was ok, but she started crying in pain” Harry continued desperately. His hands shook slightly as he held my face tightly in his hands.

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