Chapter 24
"C'mon." I teased, massaging the red welts at the top of my cheeks left by the goggles. "Admit it. You had fun."
Harry rolled his eyes, balling the coveralls he'd just taken off in his hands and grabbing his gun from the bench. "I'm not admitting anything," he said, tucking the weapon back into the waistband of his pants.
"You had fun." I affirmed, more to myself than him, throwing my own coveralls on the bench. Harry picked them up, squishing them together with his own. His eyes were on me while I leaned forward to re-do my bun before adjusting my turtleneck and swinging my purse over my shoulder.
"What am I doing with these?" He asked, holding up the clothing in his hands.
"We'll bring 'em up front," I responded, grabbing both sets of our goggles and starting back down the hall toward the front of the building. He fell in step behind me, his boots stomping heavily against the linoleum flooring.
"There they are," Maggie greeted us as we stepped through to the front room. She set down her pen and the few pieces of paper that she'd been looking over on the desk, before swivelling in her chair in our direction. "You two have fun?"
"We had lots of fun," I responded for the both of us, setting the goggles down on and bracing my hands on the edge of the table. "I think Mr. Harry over here enjoyed himself, whether he's willing to admit it or not."
As if on cue, Harry awkwardly cleared his throat before stepping forward and placing the coveralls on the table beside me. His chest brushed against my shoulder and I felt his body vibrate as he managed in a low voice, "Thanks."
"Wow," I blew out a small breath, pulling away from Harry, trying not to dwell on the warmth of him, and instead directed my attention to Maggie. "A thanks. Better than I've ever gotten."
"Glad you enjoyed yourself, Harry." Maggie grinned over my shoulder, eyes dancing between the two of us briefly. She tapped a finger on the table, leaning back a bit in her chair.
"Do we have to pay?" Harry's voice spoke from behind me.
I turned toward him with a frown – a little taken aback that he'd both thanked the girl before us and was now being courteous enough to ask if we had to reimburse her for the time we'd spent here. Maybe I should bring him here more often. Harry met my eye with a small shrug.
"Nah, don't worry about that." I turned back to see Maggie waving her arm in front of her. She got up from her seat and took a step toward us, placing her hand over top of mine to give it a small squeeze. "Never any charge for my girl Riv."
"Thanks, Maggie." I turned my palm upwards, looping my fingers through hers and giving a squeeze back. "I'll come around more to visit, I promise."
"I'm holding you to that!" She laughed, releasing me and jerking her chin toward Harry. "Maybe I should get Bond to bring you in at gunpoint." With a small one-armed hug, she added, "I'll see you."
"Promise," I said again, giving her a small smile before making my way toward the door. Harry didn't say anything else, but he followed behind me while I made my way out and materialized at my side once we were back out in the parking lot.
"She doesn't care that I have a gun." He stated. I had a feeling it was supposed to be more of a question, but it had come out sounding like a remark.
I glanced over at him. "No, she..." I shrugged a shoulder, digging through my purse to find my keys. "She deals with a lot of different people at this place. Most of them have come from rough upbringings or have criminal records. As long as you're polite and directing your anger in a safe manner like she wants people to do here, she won't judge or make any assumptions. She understands that life is shitty and that it's hard for people who are constantly looked at like a villain."
"Mm," was all I got in response. Not that I had expected anything else. It was a surprise he'd even initiated a conversation. My brows furrowed when he suddenly held his outstretched palm toward me, the two of us having halted in front of Moira.
"Um," I squinted at his hand. "What's that for?"
"I'm driving."
"What–"
"You almost killed us on the way here." A bit of an exaggeration. "And I didn't even argue with you about it–"
"Um, yes you did–"
"Not as much as I normally would have." He rolled his eyes, wiggling his fingers. "C'mon. Seriously."
I pursed my lips, glancing between his outstretched hand and the keys crushed in my palm. On one hand, Harry broke my fucking passenger seat already and there was no telling whether he'd do the same to the driver's seat. On the other hand, if I was sitting passenger, I could control the music and he had been less of a dick today – had even said thanks to Maggie.
With a small sigh, I held the keys toward him. "Fine–" Harry went to go snatch them from me but I yanked them back. "Wait. On few conditions."
"Jesus, River–"
"No, don't 'Jesus, River' me, asshole," I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. "You broke Moira on the way here. Do not break my driver's seat. That's the most important part." When Harry didn't say anything, I jangled the keys in front of him. "Well?"
"Fine." He huffed, bracing a hand on the hood of the car and rolling his eyes yet again. His other hand hip dipped into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette, which he was toying with between his lips. "Fine, fuck. Even though this piece of shit car could die anyway. You're gonna get yourself killed driving this thing."
Harry was lighting the smoke as I said, "Well if I die driving Moira, that's on me." Before he was able to interject – probably with something along the lines of how he wasn't going to continue trying to keep me alive if I was willing to let a shitty car take me out – I added, "and you can't complain about the music I choose if you drive. Or threaten to jump out of the car like a maniac again."
Harry's cheeks hollowed out as he took a long, steadying drag of the cigarette. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he leaned back on the hood of the car, tipping his head to the sky and blowing a puff of smoke out the corner of his mouth. "Fine," he mumbled, his lips closing around the smoke again. The end ignited, ash falling over his boots. "Anything else, your fuckin' highness?"
"Nope." The cigarette almost fell from his mouth when I suddenly threw the keys at him. He lurched forward, uncrossing his arms from over his chest to put his hand out and catch them in his palm.
"Thanks," he grumbled sarcastically as I sauntered over to the passenger side. Even though he wasn't being sincere, it was the second thanks I'd heard from him today and I counted that as a win.
"God, you really did a number on this," I commented, sliding into the seat and feeling it teeter beneath me. When I directed my attention to the dash in front of me, I was sitting on an angle. At least I had enough room to basically spread my legs straight out in front of me.
I was in the middle of inconspicuously sizing up Harry's legs compared to mine when he managed to get the seat to move backward – this time without destroying it altogether – and he sat down beside me. He flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground before pulling the door shut beside him.
"Again," he gave me a mocking smile, trying and failing to get the engine to start a few times, "a piece of shit."
"You're a piece of shit," I countered with a small laugh, leaning forward to flick the radio on. Harry stiffened, inhaling sharply through his nose, yet said nothing. Good.
Neither of us had talked about anything we'd said in the rage room. I was perfectly fine to just let things fall into place on their own, but it still didn't mean I felt any more at ease suddenly being forced into such a small proximity with him again. The car seemed a lot more suffocating than it had been earlier and I was grateful when Harry cracked the window as we pulled onto the road.
"Do you know where you're going?" I asked, propping my feet up on the dash and using my hand to cover the light from the setting sun pouring in through the window. "How to get back to the studio, I mean?"
Harry glanced over at me. "Don't do that."
I frowned. "Do what?"
He reached over, hooking a hand under my knee and pulled my legs down from the dash. He pressed his fingers firmly on my thigh to keep me from putting them back. "Don't put your fucking legs up there. We get into a crash and your knees are going straight through your skull."
"Lovely visual, thank you." I snorted, rolling my eyes and lulling my head back. My eyes shot down to Harry's hands – to the fingers that removed themselves from my pant leg to rest back on his own thigh. "You know," I grinned mockingly, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you only did that so you could touch me."
"You wanna start that right now, River?" Harry slid his gaze to mine. He tapped an innocent thumb on the wheel, his rings glinting in the evening sunlight.
I opened my mouth, angling my head to the side, readying to tell him that I would like to be provided with the exact details of what that entailed when the sudden sound of a ringtone cut me off. Harry furrowed his brows, glancing once at me before lifting himself up in his seat and retrieving his phone from his back pocket.
"Oh, nice," I scoffed under my breath as he answered the call and muttered a hello. I tipped my head to rest against the window. "Says I can't keep my feet on the dash and immediately proceeds to pick up his phone while driving."
"Now?" Harry barked into the receiver. I flinched at his tone – at the sudden change in energy and glanced over to see that he had gone completely rigid. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around the phone that his knuckles were white. "I can't – fuck." He glanced over at me. "He won't do Tuesday?"
The curious little minx in me had my ears straining to catch whatever the person on the other line was saying. Unfortunately, all I could pick up on was a distinct, muffled noise that sounded like someone talking quite quickly – maybe even yelling. Harry glanced again at me, seemed to hesitate for a split second, before suddenly veering the car left onto a small side street.
"Woah," I braced a hand on the door to steady myself, the two of us swaying with the movement of the car. "Um–"
"Yeah, I fucking know." Harry was saying now. He pressed his foot down on the gas, Moira humming to life beneath him as he sped down the deserted street only to suddenly pull off onto the shoulder. "Whatever, fine. Fuck, tell him it's fine."
He turned, one hand on the wheel and the other holding his phone to his ear, attempting to glance behind him. I realized at the last second it was because he was trying to reverse and I couldn't tell you what possessed me to do it, but I suddenly reached up and pried his fingers off the phone, putting my own in their place.
Harry looked at me, slightly annoyed, but I just shrugged. "Go," I whispered, grabbing his wrist and placing it behind me on the headrest. "Reverse."
And he did. With one hand on the wheel, his other hand on the headrest behind me and my own hand holding the phone to his ear, he swivelled the car around with the heel of his palm before tearing back down the street in the other direction.
The only thanks I got was a small incline of his head as he placed his hand back on the phone once we pulled back out into traffic – this time headed in the opposite direction.
"Yeah, I'm on my way." Harry ground out. There was a brief pause before he added, "Well, I have no other fucking choice, do I? Just be there." And then he was throwing the phone down into the center console of the car, slamming his hand against the wheel a moment later.
"Fuck," he muttered, bracing his elbow against the side of the car and running his fingers through his hair.
I knitted my hands together, looking toward my lap. "Is... everything okay?" I asked quietly after a beat, still not daring to look at his face – mainly because the rage in his expression made me want to run for the fucking hills.
"I can't take you back to the studio." He responded, grinding his teeth together.
"Wait, what?" I did turn to look at him, noted the way his jaw was clenched and flinched. "Why? What's going on? Are there people after me again–"
"No, this isn't fucking about you right now, River." His words definitely had a lot of anger that wasn't intended to be directed right at me, but it still stung at how harshly they were delivered. Harry, to his credit, glanced over and actually seemed to realize because he softened his tone only a fraction before adding, "Just... some shit came up. I have to go back to my place right now, so you'll have to come too."
Had it been any other day, I might have freaked out. Might have even told him no and that I needed to go back to the studio right away, but just the way he looked so unnerved was enough to have me clamping my mouth shut and nodding.
"Fine, okay. Whatever," I said softly.
Harry was anxiously tapping a finger against the wheel when he looked over at me again. "That's it?"
"What do you mean that's it?" I furrowed my brows, playing with a small fray on the knee of my pants.
"You aren't gonna... I dunno," he shrugged, "Freak out?"
"You seem freaked out enough for the both of us," I stated, leaning back against the headrest and turning to look at him. "I'm not about to put up more of a fight when I know I can't win."
Poor Moira was still trying to keep up with Harry's heavy acceleration. Every turn he took, she groaned beneath the two of us, her engine giving an extra few jolts before fully adjusting. Bad idea to let him drive.
"Right," he finally breathed, almost a full couple of minutes later.
His phone suddenly began to ring again in the center console, the vibrations reverberating around the small car. It rang multiple times actually. And every single unknown number that popped up on the screen, something I had seen with a quick side-eye at the device, he left unanswered.
"Are you going to answer that?" I finally asked, wincing when the screen lit up for a fifth time.
"No." He said sullenly. "I already know who it is."
"Fair enough," I muttered and turned to lean my head against the window.
That was that. Neither of us spoke for the next twenty minutes or so while Harry sped down the freeway in the complete opposite direction of the studio – our entire night having tipped on its axis and done a complete 180 degrees.
I knew better than to ask him what was going on. He either wouldn't answer me or would give me some bullshit answer as to why I couldn't know anyway... for my own safety, of course. But that didn't mean I didn't still sit in the passenger seat, unnerved and curious out of my mind as to what could have possibly brought forth such a reaction from him.
Pulling up to his house after the excruciating drive was nothing short of terrifying. It was exactly how I'd remembered it. The long, winding driveway leading to my penultimate nightmare – the real nightmare of course being the God-awful security system and multiple check points we passed through.
Moira stuck out like a sore thumb once we finally made our way into the garage where Harry parked her alongside Bert, his lovely Bentley. It was the only open spot and the one that I assume should have housed his other car, which was now deserted on the street across from the studio.
"I'll meet you in there," Harry grunted, eyes immediately landing on the screen of his phone that he pulled into his hand the minute we parked. He was looking at the screen with furrowed brows – a little crease forming on the skin at the top of his nose. "What?" He snarled seconds later, snapping his head up. "Go inside, River."
"Sorry," I mumbled, instinctively looking away. It seemed to be a terrible habit I had with him – staring when I shouldn't be. I popped open the door, placing a foot onto the cement outside. "I'm going."
Thankfully I didn't puke on my way inside this time, though my stomach did churn with unwelcome nerves as I made my way through the silent parking garage to the doors leading to the small foyer where the elevators were.
"Okay..." I said quietly, reaching forward to press the button. "It's fine. This is fine. No big deal. I'll be back home soon." With a steadying breath through my nose, I let my hand drop to my side where I toyed with the hem of my turtleneck. "Nothing to worry about, River."
There were a few seconds where I awkwardly shifted on my feet, listening to the mechanics of the elevator whir while it made its way down to the garage, before the door beside me swung open and Harry came stalking in.
The elevator rang out and the doors slid open right as he came up to stand beside me.
"C'mon," he mumbled and placed a hand on my back, guiding me inside with a small push.
Neither of us said anything while we mounted each floor. The silence between us was thick – heavy. But not like it had been earlier. This was in stark contrast to the dynamic that the two of us had adopted at the rage room and even back in the gym at the tattoo parlour.
Any layers that I had managed to peel away from the skin that had him rooted into this rude and aloof demeanour were back and even more complex than ever. I knew it wasn't anything that I had done, but the sudden regression was exhausting. I didn't know how much more of it I could take.
When the doors slid open again, bringing forth the foyer to his home and tethering the suffocating isolation in which we had been trapped, I braved a few words.
"Are you okay?"
Harry had already taken a few hasty steps ahead of me and was almost at the other end of the living room. His back was to me and I watched him pause, his spine straightening before he turned on his heel to face me.
"God, River, stop fucking asking that," he shook his head, the apples of his cheeks flush with annoyance.
"This is the first time I've asked," I shot back, feeling a pang of some emotion I couldn't place hit me deep in the chest.
"No, you asked me this back at Damien's dinner too," the corners of his mouth curved into a frown and he let out an irritated breath. "Don't fuckin' worry about the shit I do. Or me. It's annoying."
"Oh, it's annoying?" I scoffed, eyebrows shooting up to my hairline. "Well, sorry I'm trying to be a fucking hospitable person. Couldn't say the same about you. You just seemed on edge, God–"
"Well leave it," he snarled, taking a step backward to create some distance between us. "What I do and who I am doesn't concern you." Before I had the chance to fire back about how it most certainly fucking did, he added, "For the shit that does concern you, I'll let you know. But beyond that, just worry about yourself."
He had disappeared down the hall before I could say anything else, leaving me to fester in my own frustration. With a small huff, I walked over to the sitting area in the living room and dropped down on the couch. As annoyed as I was, it was fucking comfortable and I leaned back with a small sigh – grateful to be off my feet for a bit.
But before I could even fully enjoy the plush, rich feeling of the piece of furniture beneath me, Harry had already returned and was causing quite the ruckus in the kitchen. I braced an elbow on the back of the couch, craning my neck to see what he was doing only to be met with a view of his back. From what I could make out, he was loading up a large duffle bag with an assortment of items that he'd pulled from God knew where.
The sight of him when he turned around was enough to chill my blood. He'd switched out his black hoodie for a black t-shirt, which he now wore an ankle-length jacket over top of and had even pulled on a black wool beanie on to match – his hair squished beneath the material and poking out by his ears. The dark outfit paired with the duffel bag made him look terrifying.
"You're leaving?" I asked, noting his attire, hating how concerned my voice sounded. Not for him really, but at the prospect of what was going to happen to me.
"I'll be back," was his only response. He grabbed his gun from the counter, tucking it into the front of his waistband this time. I guess he didn't exactly have to hide it in his own home, but it was still strange to see.
"Um, okay." I swallowed hard, jumping off the couch and rushing after him as he stalked his way back to the elevator. "Wait, what about me? What do you want me to–"
"Just stay here," he hissed, his back to me.
"You want me to stay here? Alone?"
"River, you've seen the fucking security on this place–"
"No, I just mean," I ran a hand through my hair, slightly frazzled, "When are you going to be back? I have to go to work in the morning."
"I'll be back." Was his, again, frustratingly ambiguous fucking response.
He pressed the button for the elevator, the doors opening immediately from having been stalled there waiting when the two of us had gotten off earlier. He slung the bag over his shoulder, turning around briefly to meet my gaze, his expression one that I couldn't read.
"You can sleep in the same room you slept in last time. Eat whatever is in the fridge." He stepped into the elevator and hesitated briefly. "Use a car if you absolutely need to. I'll take you home when I'm back."
The terrifying pace at which my heart pounded in my chest and in my ears prevented me the luxury of piecing together a sane thought. My eyes remained locked on his, the two of us staring at one another, my feet frozen to the spot a few feet away from the elevator. I was confused out of my mind – worried about being left here alone, confused about this whole night, trying not to dwell on how he had said I could sleep in the same bedroom as last time insinuating that I most likely would be here overnight until he came back.
But for some reason, out of all of that, the only words that tumbled out of my mouth as the elevator doors slid shut separating the two of us were a quiet and anxious, "Be careful."