09.12.23 — Please make sure you are caught up with all the newest chapters. Chapter 68 is the first chapter of the newest update!
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"We're leaving. Now," Harrison snapped at Roberts as he got up from his desk and grabbed his suit jacket.
"Yes, sir," Roberts told him without question.
In a rush, Harrison was speeding down the street to the building where Katherine's therapist's office was with Roberts in the passenger seat. Harrison was swerving in and out of traffic, sometimes driving on the wrong side of the road just to get there faster as he relayed everything that he had found out to Roberts.
When he pulled to the side of the road with his destination, the 1 World Trade Center building, in his line of sight, the police had just started blocking off the roads as the crowd of onlookers grew in the area.
Why did Katherine have to pick a therapist that worked from one of the most notable buildings in the Manhattan skyline? Of course something like this would happen in that dreaded building. It was cursed. They were all cursed as far as he was concerned. Every goddamn one of those World Trade Center buildings.
"You're Harrison King," he heard as he got out of the car. He looked up to see a uniformed NYPD officer standing just to the right on the sidewalk.
Harrison let out an annoyed grunt as he started walking away from the car, ignoring the man.
"Mr. King, you-you can't park there!" The officer shouted at him as he completely abandoned the car and took off in a sprint toward the building.
"Fucking tow it!" Harrison snapped at him as he continued on with Roberts hot on his heels.
He didn't give a fuck what happened to his goddamn car. Sell it for fucking parts. He didn't give a shit. All that mattered was Katherine.
When they reached the NYPD barricade where the majority of the force that was present were placed, Harrison bombarded his way over, even though he was being shouted at and then restrained by the officers guarding the area.
"Get your fucking hands off of me!" Harrison snapped at the officer that put his arm in a hold behind his back.
"Let him go. Let him go!" One of the detectives yelled at the officer when they recognized who Harrison was. In an instant his arm was free and Harrison continued on toward the detective.
"You know who I am?" Harrison questioned gruffly, trying to keep a level head even though all of his senses and emotions were screaming at him.
"I do, Mr. King," he said with a nod, "What can I help you with?"
"What is going on? What information do you know?" Harrison asked quickly as he pointed back at 1 World Trade.
"Sir, we can't just—"
"My girlfriend is in there! She's in that fucking building!" Harrison snapped and watched the man's expression turn to shock in a split second.
"I'm sorry, sir," the detective told him earnestly.
"I don't need your fucking apologies. I need to know what the fuck is going on," Harrison growled. His emotions were all over the place. He couldn't control them even if he tried.
"So far all we know is there is an active shooter in the building. As far as we know, he is in the lobby—"
"Have there been shots fired?" Harrison asked impatiently.
"Yes, sir."
"So as far as you know, he's in the lobby shooting people?" Harrison asked sharply. What kind of bullshit information was that? A primary schooler could deduce that.
For all the NYPD fucking knew, the shooter could be anywhere in that building and these pieces of shit were just standing around with their thumbs up their asses. Katherine was only twenty-one floors from the lobby. In the grand scheme of things, the twenty-first floor was practically in the fucking lobby in a skyscraper that fucking massive.
"All we know so far is what dispatch has heard from callers inside the building."
"Well, when the fuck will you know more?"
"We're working on getting tapped into the security cameras so we can get eyes on the situation. The best thing that you can do is go home and wait it out, sir."
"That's your advice? That's the best advice you can muster up? What's your name?" Harrison seethed, narrowing his eyes at the man. This mother fucker was about to get drop-kicked if he said another stupid fucking word to him.
"Detective Cruz."
"Cruz," Harrison spat back venomously.
He couldn't keep the distaste out of his mouth because he couldn't regulate his emotions for even a second due to the stress and fear he felt. His body was drowning in adrenaline and he had nowhere for it to go.
"Sir, if you could just calm down..."
"Do not patronize me," Harrison growled, his eyes shooting daggers at the man.
"We can call you with an update. I'll tell you what, Mr. King, I can have the commissioner personally call you with an update on the situation. How does that sound?" The detective told him, trying to appease him in any way that he could.
Harrison balled his fists at his sides, his blunt fingernails digging into his palms as he gritted his teeth together, knowing that anything that was to come out of his mouth next could get him arrested. And getting arrested would keep him from Katherine.
"Mr. King..." He heard Roberts from behind him and it helped to ground him, to lessen the anger inside of him, if only a little.
"Yes. Yes, fine," Harrison conceded, although the hostility was still ever-present in his tone.
Harrison reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small metal case with his business cards in it.
"My direct line," Harrison said, handing the detective one of the cards.
"I will get this to the commissioner as quickly as possible," Detective Cruz promised.
"If you don't, I'm coming back for your head," Harrison snapped.
"My head. Yes, sir," the man agreed with a nod.
"Mr. King..." Roberts said again, and Harrison felt his hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, sir. He's right. It's best we go home and wait this out. Attention is already being drawn to you," Roberts told him quietly.
"Mm," Harrison hummed, looking up to see the people all around them staring back at him.
Harrison paid it no mind as he looked up at the tall reflective building, trying to locate the twenty-first floor with just a quick glance as Roberts guided him out of the area.
He was in absolute excruciating pain— a pain he had never felt before. Every inch of his insides felt like they were being dragged over a cheese grater again and again. His insides were a raw, festering bloody mess.
When the two of them got back to the place where Harrison parked the car, it was still there with the same police officer next to it, like he was guarding it or something. Or maybe he was waiting for a tow truck. Harrison didn't fucking care.
"Mr. King—"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fucking leaving," Harrison grumbled as he threw open the driver's door and got in before the cop could say another word.
Instead of going home, Harrison drove back to King Enterprises, which was significantly closer to where Katherine was. As soon as he got into his office, he slammed the door shut and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
What the fuck was he going to do? Katherine. His angel. His everything. His heart felt like it was imploding and exploding at the same time. He couldn't handle this.
"Fuck!" He shouted as he threw the crystal glass of whiskey against the wall. It shattered and splashed all over the wall and the floor.
Without another thought, he poured another glass and took the shot, gulping the smooth liquid down. His mind was an absolute nightmare and he had no idea how to break out of it.