Killer Kisses // h.s au

eighteen. Familiarity

Familiarity 

"Long time, no see, huh, Brooke?"

"Don't call me that," the voice I held was low in both tone and volume. My head whipped behind me in search of Harry, but, to my dismay, the landing was absent. I returned my gaze to the built man in front of me, caramel hair scraped haphazardly over his forehead. The two familiar eyes that still had the ability to make me mentally recoil were lurking underneath his thick brows, scrutinising me intently.

"Well that's your name, isn't it?" he hissed tauntingly.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Jonah? How did you find me? What do you–"

"Whoa, calm it on the questions, babe. I just thought it was time for a well-deserved catch up, don't you think?" Patronisation leaked from his tone like acid.

"Fuck you," I spat through gritted teeth.

His face darkened with fury before contorting to a seemingly smug expression. I didn't have time to react as he clamped hold of my upper arms and pulled me into him harshly. He pressed his lips against my ear to whisper snidely. "You already did that for me, didn't you, princess? And plenty of other customers, too. Before you pussied out and left me nearly broke. Ring any bells, love?"

I squirmed in his unwanted embrace, adamant not to make contact with this repulsive, sad excuse for a human being any longer. He didn't let go and I wouldn't be surprised if he was actually enjoying my struggle. I knew what a sick son of a bitch he really was.

"Let me go. I have a man upstairs. Two against one, asshole," I threatened. 

He only laughed, but let go nevertheless. "Wow, B, since when did you need a man to save you? You've changed, baby." He shook his head in mocking disapproval. It was evident he was well aware of my discomfort and involuntary fear, and he was absolutely revelling in it. His hooded gaze lowered to my arm. "Even getting tattoos, I see."

"What do you want?" My fingers clutched the door frame with such intensity, I could see the colour draining from them. Why hadn't I brought my gun down with me? For fuck's sake, Hunter.

The corner of his lip curled up in the most heinous fashion, followed by him roughly shoving me aside to grant himself access into the house. As I turned to follow him, I caught sight of the familiar figure located on the landing, watching us intently. Jonah clearly hadn't noticed him as he strolled confidently into the living room.

Harry's eyes were cautious as he padded down the stairs. He habitually clasped my elbow gently, stare still trained on the door Jonah had just went through.

"Who's that?" he murmured warily.

I exhaled a shaky and unsteady sigh. "It's Jonah, Harry. I don't know how he found me but he did and I want him out. What the hell do I do?"

"He's the ex, right? The guy that hooker–"

"–She has a name, Harry."

"–the guy that...Chloe mentioned, yeah? He was the one you refused to tell me about."

"Yeah, that one. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I couldn't. I can't. He's just...he's just an ex, okay?" My lips pulled downwards apologetically. "But that's not the point. The point is, he's just let himself into your house and he ruined my life, Harry. I can't – I don't...I don't want to see him. Please."

It was only then that his intense glare flicked from the door to me. He appeared distant, as if contemplating something. After a moment or two, he nodded and ran his fingers down my arm affectionately, before storming into the room. I inhaled a sharp breath as I followed behind him, unsure of what the hell was going to go down.