Chapter Ninety-Three

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"Thank you, Brittany," Harry says to her in a genuinely thankful tone that I don't think I've ever heard before.

"Don't thank me, Harry; I was just doing my job. You'll be cursing me soon enough."

"I'm just going to ignore that last part for right now because I know you're stubborn and just don't want to accept my gratitude."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," she smiles, yet something about it doesn't seem completely right, but Harry doesn't seem to notice. "Just hurry it up, okay? I've got my orders."

Harry nods to her and she walks off. He turns back to face me and looks me up and down for a second before seemingly making his mind up about something. I become overly conscious and begin to cross my arms over my chest as he chuckles and pulls his own shirt off before handing it to me.

"Here, wear this until we get home," he says as I hesitantly take the top from him.

"What about you?"

"I'm a guy, no one will give it a second look if I'm shirtless, you on the other hand..." he starts to explain.

I slip the shirt on over my head, "I don't know about no one looking twice when they see you shirtless, Harry."

He smirks and grabs my hand, pulling me to him, my free hand pressing against his bare chest instinctively to steady myself.

"You jealous?" he retorts, the smug grin still prominent on his lips as he looks into my eyes.

I hate when he does this, it makes my mind go all fuzzy and I can't think straight, yet I love it all at the same time.

"I'll take that as a yes," he answers for me after a short silence.

Before I can even respond to his conclusion, he has me cradled in his arms and is carrying me out of the room and down the hallway.

"What are you-" I begin to ask before he cuts me off.

"You're body is so weak right​ now you were wobbling just standing there and you expect me to let you walk?"

"Um..." I reply, unable to really say much else, "thank you."

I can feel the embarrassment in my cheeks as he sits me down his car, which Brittany was able to have brought over for us to go home. Harry ended up talking to her for a while after he'd gotten me into the car and I waited there patiently.

Whilst it did bother me to see him smiling with another girl, I knew better than to get upset about it. He told me they were childhood friends and she did just save me from getting raped. But didn't he also mention that they used to date? Oh, stop that brain.

Before I could let myself get any further with those thoughts, Harry was climbing into the driver's seat next to me and starting the car.

"So...how'd you end up getting out of the chains?" I asked, breaking the silence that had previously filled the car as we drove back to the house.

"Well I'd gotten the lock picked on one of them by the time Brittany got there and she was going to unlock the other herself, but I made her go and get you first so eventually I got the other one and then I came straight upstairs to see what had happened since it was eerily quiet."

I nodded, coming to the realisation that had he not made her come and get Jason away from me right then, he would have partially had his way with me and I'd be even more emotionally -- and physically -- scarred.

I was worried about Harry and Brittany when I watched them talking and smiling, but now I see that he was only thinking about me; that makes my mind feel more at ease. After all, he was chained up like an animal and didn't even think of himself for a second, he only worried about me.

"What're you smiling about?" Harry asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh, me?" I replied, finding myself unaware of the fact that a grin had crept its way onto my lips. "Nothing, I was just thinking about how much you care about me."

"You're just now realising that? Did you forget that I left my home country​ to chase after you?" Harry raised his eyebrow at me as he put the car in park.

"No, I just... Well, I never thought about it that way I guess," I stated, shrugging my shoulders slightly and then grimacing from the soreness. "Ow," I muttered, hoping he wouldn't notice.

My face must have given away my discomfort because Harry's expression became concerned. "Come on, I need to get you inside and figure out what that prick did to you."

I nodded slightly and was soon brought into the house in his arms, then laid down gently onto the soft mattress in our bedroom.

"I'll be back, don't try to move too much, okay?" Harry insisted.

"Okay," I agreed.

I had thought Harry would only be gone a few minutes, tops, but it has definitely been like fifteen since he left the room. He said he'd be right back, so where did he go? More importantly, why does my bladder have to choose now to be the time that I have to go pee?

A sigh left my lips as I resolved to force myself to get up on my own. Besides, it's so embarrassing to need help to get to the bathroom. I mean, I'm not a child, nor am I disabled or elderly -- I should be able to do this myself. I don't want to have to ask for help to go pee...

I struggle to stand myself up, stifling my groans of pain as best I can and slowly stumble my way across the floor to the bathroom, which is luckily attached to the master bedroom in this house. Just as my bare foot makes contact with the cold linoleum tiles, everything around me starts to spin.

"Dammit," I mumble under my breath as I reach out to grab the closest wall to steady myself. With my blurred vision of my surroundings, I fail to grasp anything and feel my body collapse onto the hard floor just as everything goes black.

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