tw//rape
I gasp quietly, trying to get my hands off of my stomach. But in that moment I realize my hands and legs are tightly wrapped in super stick duct tape. I look back into his devilish eyes and open my mouth to say something, but I can't force anything out.
I can't fucking believe this. I'm about to get raped. And it's entirely my fault.
"You're safe with me. It'll all be over soon." He practically laughs as he says that. Like this is a joke. That this is for the enjoyment of us both.
The worst part is that his words were so false. This is not going to be over soon. The next hour or so of my life is going to be absolute torture. I just want someone to come bursting through that door. My mom, George, Harlow, anyone. Literally anyone. I just can't bare the thought that only my second time is going to be wasted like this. I would have it any other way. Just not like this.
He inches closer to me. From the edge of the bed, he's gotten as far as my stomach. He gives me the most disgusting look. I want to puke at the sight of this. What position he's got me in. He forces himself forward as mushes our lips together. The only difference is, that he's the only one putting in any effort. My lips stay still, almost attempting to hide inside my mouth until he stops.
My ears ring as I sit up in bed. Flashbacks. That's the second night in a row. My flashbacks of that night with Alex have escalated from not being able to close my eyes to not being able to sleep without having a vision of him. Just his figure appears at the edge of my bed sometimes and I don't know what to do. Thank God mine and Harry's rooms are far enough apart to where I don't wake him up. He would probably say something about how I'm being dumb and it's not that serious.
But it is. I don't feel clean. Ever. The day Harlow and I went to get groceries is the night this started. Which was four days ago. For four nights I've had these awful flashbacks. I've been counting days like a prisoner since he did that to me. 11 days. He assaulted me 11 days ago. It's June 22nd. I've also been thinking about how many days I haven't seen my mom. 20 days. I can't do this anymore. My head is constantly thinking about ten different things. All of which I want my mom to tell me it'll be okay. I don't have a choice. I have to move on. With a snap of a finger, everything in my life has collapsed.
I've showered twelve times in these past four days. That means three times a day. Harry complains about me hogging the shower for so long, but I can't even begin to explain to him. The showers have helped. It's like a cleanse. I feel restored for a handful of hours and then I just do it all over again. That shower is the only place where I feel fully clean. Where I don't feel like I have a pair of grabby hands all over me. Even if he only touched my stomach and barely in between my legs, it feels like he's left an ident on every body part I have.
"Is it that difficult to get one good night's sleep?" My hands uncover my eyes to reveal Harry's figure standing in the door frame. For some reason his words make me want to cry. I want to scream at him sometimes.
Yes Harry it is hard getting a good night's sleep.
Before I say anything, he speaks before me, "I've noticed that you haven't slept past 4:30 any of these nights. Is something wrong with your room?"
"No, the room is fine." My fingers go to throw the hair in my face backwards.
"Then what is it? Because your fumbling around in the kitchen at 5 in the morning is disturbing my beauty sleep," The bed dips when he takes a seat at the edge of it.
I sigh, "It's nothing okay? I've just been having a hard time adjusting."
"We've been here for six nights Noelle." He almost looks concerned. His brown curls frame his face as he stares at me, waiting for a response.
"I know. I'll be fine just go away."
And with that, he's gone again. I'm left alone in my room with nothing but my thoughts. What am I supposed to do? I can't go out and get something to eat or get my book because Harry just complained I'm too loud. I'm just stuck in between these four walls, clueless. I pick up my phone to see it's only 2:49AM. I guess I could at least try to fall back asleep. My eyes start to fall closed again. Through mine and Harry's conversation I didn't realize I'm still tired.
I yawn, my head falling back to the fluffy pillows and my arms going to pull the gray sheets over myself. I snuggle in, immediately falling back into deep sleep.
Through the involuntary kisses, I manage to mumble, "Please, please stop! You're an EMT! You help people! You're not like this!"
I shuffle in my uncomfortable position as his lips attach to my neck, leaving messy kisses all over it. My eyes squeeze closed as he travels up my throat. I'm struggling so much in my placement, that his hand flies to hold my throat still while he continues torturing me.
He stops for one second to speak. "Oh pretty girl, we haven't even gotten to the fun part yet."
And with that, his hand slides down my shorts. I let out the most god awful shriek, the whole town probably heard me.
"No! No! No! Please!" I continue to beg, hoping any cry will convince him to stop. He laughs into my neck while my legs struggle underneath him.
A thud peels my eyes open. My heart is bouncing in between the walls of my chest. To my ultimate surprise, it's Harry again. On the floor with my hand in his.
"What are you doing?" I ask very genuinely. My fingers drop from the engulfment of his large palm.
"What am I doing? What are you doing? You started fucking yelling. So I came in here to tell you to shut the hell up, but then I saw you were dreaming about something. Is that what this is? You're having some fucking nightmare so you can't sleep?" He sits up, criss-cross.
I just noticed that Harry's just sleeping on the tile. He didn't even get a blanket or anything. He just had his body lay across this cold tile.
"Yeah, but why were you holding my hand?"
"I tried to wake you up, but you grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go, so I thought might as well sleep here." He says that so casually. It's almost hard for me to not laugh.
He plants his feet on the tile, towering over my vertical body. "Drink some water and for the love of God, go to sleep."
"I can't Harry." I put my lips to the top of the plastic water bottle he picked up from my side table. He waits for me to elaborate. "I can't stop seeing him."
"Who?" He shifts his position to sit next to me.
"Alex."
His eyes dart to meet my gaze. I sit up myself to match his level. I feel sick just talking about it. I don't know what to do and I honestly have no clue why I'm telling him any of this, but I just can't take it anymore. My heart can't bare it. He doesn't speak, I'm not even sure he knows how to respond to that.
"What did you do with him that night?" I start the conversation again because this is a question that's been lingering in the back of my head for a long time.
"I didn't kill him of course, so don't look at me like that, but Zayn offered him money to leave the country."
"What?" I raise my eyebrows. "Offered money? You didn't make him pay for what he did?"
His Adam's apple dips when he speaks, "Did you not notice the smeared blood across your bedroom floor?"
"How much money?" I gulp the tightness in my throat.
"Why does it matter?"
"Because he's a sex offender Harry. But I can understand that that must be difficult for your underdeveloped brain to comprehend." I pick up the hair tie that's sitting on my wrist and use it to tie a low ponytail. I'm sweating.
He scoffs, "Why am I even here? I'm providing for you, not the other way around, so stop with the smart ass remarks. I'm sick of this shit."
He gets up from the floor and slams the door behind him as he leaves. God he doesn't get it does he? Where did Harry even get money to pay off Alex? I haven't seen Harry work a day in his life. Forget a day, a minute. What does he even do to get such a luxurious house and privileges? Oh my God what if he stole it? No he couldn't have. He doesn't have the balls to. Unless he did. What if I'm living with a criminal? I could be on those true crime documentaries 10 years from now. I'm being stupid. Harry isn't a criminal. I'm getting delirious due to the handful of hours of sleep I'm getting.
The rest of the day is like usual. Eat, read, shower, repeat. I read for a little extra time today so I missed one shower. Around nine o' clock at night, I was sitting on the couch reading again by myself while Harry was in the study.
My head perked up from my book when I heard his phone go off. I ignored it the first time because I thought he would come downstairs and pick it up. But he didn't, and it rang another time. I ignored it a second time. I don't want to think of the tantrum Harry would throw if he saw me touch his phone. Again. Judging on how the first time went, I don't want to go through that again. But I finally decided to go check when 3 messages followed the two missed calls.
I tap the phone screen with the hand that isn't clenching my book. I don't know who I was expecting, but it's just Zayn saying he's outside and he should open the door. I rush over to the front door, revealing Zayn, who is chattering his teeth and pushing past me to get to the warmth.
"Thank you love, that bastard was taking so damn long." He rolls his suitcase away so it's now in between the kitchen and living room. I can understand why he's so cold, it's 40° and he's wearing a t-shirt with a thin jacket on top and shorts.
He's dressed much more casually than last time. He's wearing glasses and a blue hat with headphones traveling from his ears to his jacket pocket.
"Of course. Do you need anything? Water or coffee?" I make my way to the kitchen, already setting out a glass for him.
"An Americano please. Harry still has those right?" He makes himself comfortable on the seat I was once in. I nod, a smile tugging at my lips as I make Zayn his coffee.
I set the glass under the coffee machine and turn to him. "So are you going to be staying with us?"
"No, I have an apartment in the city. But I'm only two minutes away." He throws an arm to rest on the couch's arm.
I should take the opportunity I have right now to learn more about what they all do to get this much money. It'll put my mind at ease knowing that Harry isn't as bad as I put him out to be in my head.
"What do you do for a living?" I just shoot the question at him with no further thoughts.
He looks relaxed surprisingly, "I'm a forensic biologist. I worked with a team back in Cardiff for six years, I just got off and earned my certification."
"That's huge, congrats." I lean against the counter almost in disappointment. "And uh, Harry? What does he do?"
"Hm, assuming he doesn't want me to tell you that." He watches me walk towards him with the coffee in my hands.
Are they all in on this secret of his? Did they make some pact about not spilling Harry's job? What could he be doing up there for so many hours?
"Nothing like that. I was just wondering how Harry has so much money to live in a place like this." I try to play dumb. I take a seat across from him.
He exhales after taking a sip of his Americano, "I'm not going to talk to you like you're clueless, because I know you're not. You're smarter than you let Harry believe. You're trying to play a game with me."
"I'm not trying to play any game with you Zayn. Honestly I like you best out of both Niall and Harry. I'm just lost and tired of being left in the dark."
We both don't say anything for a moment. He just continues drinking his Americano and I stare at him waiting for an answer. If there's anyone who can help me out, it's Zayn. He talks to me like a real person. Like he's not some bipolar and moody bitch who's unpredictable. I like talking to him. He's normal. Regular. Ordinary. Whatever you want to call it. But he's a breath of fresh air compared to those two.
An ear-bleeding voice puts our conversation to a stop. "Well we've certainly made some warm welcomes."
Harry's referring to the coffee in Zayn's hands. He travels down the stairs without any purpose. He looks tired, and less relaxed than usual. This is what I mean. What the hell is he doing up there?
"And what were you doing?" Zayn eyes me as he asks his question.
Harry raises his eyebrows at his question, "Light reading in my office."
He trails down the steps as me and Zayn give a quiet smile to each other. For some reason, Harry came and sat down next to me, resting his arm on the cushion behind me. As if it's a reflex, I scoot a little away from him. I'm not falling for this again.
"You had said you wanted to tell us something over the phone, so go on." His accent thickens his words.
Us? Us?
"She needs to know the full story first. Without that, I'm not saying shit." Zayn copies Harry's position.
"What full story?" I finally turn my head to catch his gaze.
Harry sighs, "It's fine. Just spit out whatever you want to tell me Zayn."
"I said no. Tell her or I will."
"Just tell me Harry." This is starting to get annoying.
"We know who's after us." He starts inching away from me too.
I pause, "Who?"
Harry suddenly stands up, gesturing that he'll be right back. He can't keep me on a cliffhanger like this. After he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a left into his office. My lips part to protest, but within half a minute, he's walking back down the stairs. He has a few folded papers crumpling away in his hand.
He stands in front of me, holding up a picture of a couple of guys with symbols of two white locked triangles on their black hoodies.
"What the hell is this?" I observe the picture he's holding.
"This is a group called Lethal," He puts the first picture at the end of the series of papers. The second picture reveals the men at the fish and chips cart with the symbol on their chains.
"Their life mission and goal is to go back and get revenge whoever's hurt them in the past. And now for some reason, they're fulfilling that towards us. They're ruthless Noelle. They've been around for a long time." He sets down the pictures on the coffee table behind him.
I blink. "Could they have had something to do with my mom?"
"I'm not sure. But I knew 100% that day at the fish and chips cart, that it was them. We just need to find out why they're after me, Zayn, and Niall."
"Hold on, you knew? You knew that day that those men were a part of Lethal?" I stand up. He knew this entire time? And he never said anything about it?
"Well yeah, because-"
"No. There is no end to that sentence. You knew this whole time who the gun men were and you never said anything?" I start approaching closer towards him. He's really fucking crossed it. He had me thinking of so many possible scenarios and links of those men to me. Those men could have a connection to my mom for all I know. And he's cost me all this lost time.
"You would've fucking lost it. I was doing you a favor." He steps closer to me too. Our distance is a couple feet, yet it feels like he's breathing down my chest.
"A favor?" I scoff, breaking our stance and sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. "Go to hell."
My words don't affect him the slightest. He just walks over to sit a space away from Zayn.
"Now, may I continue with my new shred of information?" Zayn finally speaks after what feels like decades. Harry and I had just been so caught up with our argument that I forgot Zayn was even sitting there.
"Please do." I fold my arms over each other, keeping my stare at only Zayn.
"That bloke Alex, was a part of Lethal. He was kicked out that same day he assaulted you, so I guess he took out his rage on you."
I can feel even Harry gasp a little. Tears involuntarily rise in my eyes.
"Oh my fucking God." Chokes out of me.
//
a/n: ok i just wanna say thank u so much. rain hit 1k reads a while ago and i can barely process it. i love u so so so much thank u for reading my shit story and doing all that u do to lift it up. i hope ur all doing ok.