I put one foot out in front of the other and stepped softly on the thin layer of snow coating the ground. My hand, intertwined with Harry's, swung back and forth as we walked down the icy gravel path.
"This is nice, isn't it?" I ask, smiling.
"Yea, it is," Harry replies.
"I love snow so much. It's beautiful, especially here in the big city since it's so rare."
"We had a little bit of snow in England but not much. We were cursed by months of rain," he sighs.
"Ha!" I laugh loudly. "You should live here. You'll see the sixth months of ice-cold hell we go through. Of course, not in the city like this, but yea," I say with a smile. Harry chuckles.
"Ice-cold hell?" he ponders. "That sounds nice."
"It is," I giggle. Harry raises my hand, still entwined with his, up to his mouth and kisses it gently. I blush and look to my snow-covered boots.
"You're so beautiful," Harry coos. My cheeks spread with warmth again.
But, the heat doesn't stop at my cheeks.
It spreads down my neck, slightly uncomfortable. I pull my hand from Harry's and take a step back.
"Baby?" he asks, a confused look taking over his emotions. I simply shake my head as the heat spreads through my shoulders and my arms.
It stops at my forearms. The heat starts burning hotter and hotter, no longer just uncomfortable, but painful. Pulses of pain target the inside of my arms and I bring my hand to caress it, but there's nothing there.
"My... my arms..." I whisper.
"Pardon, love?"
"My arms... they... they're burning..." I cry out, dropping to my knees and pressing my arms into the cold snow. It doesn't do anything though; if anything, the snow makes my skin cold. The heat in my wrists only continues to increase. I shiver from the snow but internally, hell is taking over my bloodstream.
"Harry, something's wrong, help me!" I cry.
I look up from the snow only to see that everyone from the park has vanished into thin air. The burning in my arm pulses and I scream out into the air, my pained voice echoing in the wind.
---
My arms pulse, as if in continuation from the dream I just awoke from.
A gasp breaks the silence in the room as my eyelids flutter open, taking in the surrounding hospital room.
"Aubrey," Harry sighs in relief. I give a small smile.
"Harry," I whisper, voice harsh from sleep.
"You scared me," he whispers. "Jesus, you frightened me so badly, Aubrey. Don't ever do that again," he scolds, striding towards my bed and getting down on his knees. He kisses my knuckles and looks up to my eyes.
"What do you mean, don't do that? What the fuck did I do?"
I don't know where this attitude came from.
"What even happened?" I ask cluelessly.
The last thing I remember was watching the game at Harry's apartment... and then a few flickers of the times after that. I see a shot glass, hot metal, blood, and a towel... duct tape, too?
What?
"We're still trying to figure that out," he mumbles. "Neither you or Josh remember anything."
At that moment, two police in uniform walk into the room. I stiffen immediately.
Oh my God, what if they searched my apartment? What if they found my drugs? My weapons? Oh my God, I'm going to go to jail.
"Is she awake yet?" One asks, a female with dark red hair.
"She just awoke, can you give us a moment?" Harry asks, not looking away from me. I nod in agreement.
"Alright, you have five minutes until we require a statement. Make it quick," she says formally and turns on her heels, exiting the room. A man with brown hair follows her.
"What's going on?" I ask quietly.
"You really don't remember anything?"
I shake my head.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"Being at your house... watching the Jays game," I speak. He nods.
"Well, we went for an meeting that day, and left you alone at home. When we came back, you were gone and no one knew where you were. I tried calling Josh but he didn't pick up.
"We searched around everywhere we knew, three times, and no sign of you. Then, Louis' phone starts ringing but he doesn't answer it cause he thinks he found a lead...
"Turns out it was you. You left this message saying something along the lines of... "I need you to -""
I join Harry as some of my memories return.
"- meet my friend," I finish. Harry stares up at me, his eyes wide.
"Do you remember anything else?" He asks. I shake my head.
"Only bits and pieces..."
"Well, Louis called back, and you sounded all weird. It was like you were programmed or something until some guy took the phone and threatened your life if Louis didn't go.
"Of course, Julian was beside them when he got the call, and made him put it on speaker. Within 15 seconds, the top police units were on their way to your apartment..."
Harry stifles a deep sob and his eyes fill with tears.
"Shh..." I say, bringing my hand up to his cheek. I gently brush a tear with my cheek and press my lips to his.
"I - I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around," he murmurs, sniffling. I give a shy smile.
"It's okay," I whisper. He smiles back at me.
"Do you want to know the rest?" he asks, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"I think that's all the time they'll give you... The police want to talk to me, I'm guessing?"
The policewoman opens the door and strides in, clipboard in hand.
"Ms. Caldwell, I am Officer Black and this here is my trainee, Officer Hall." I nod and reach my arm out to shake her hand until I see the bandages and gasp.
"What... what happened?" I ask. I press my hand to my bandaged left arm and gasp in pain.
"You didn't tell her, I'm assuming?" Officer Black asks. Harry shakes his head. "You may go now."
"Please let him stay," I beg. She shakes her head.
"Miss, we need your full attention."
"Please..." I beg, tears filling my eyes. There are few things I hate more than being in a room of police.
"Officer Black, no offense or anything, but I believe it would be better for Aubrey if I were here as emotional support," Harry says quietly. She sighs and rolls her eyes. How professional.
"Fine, you may stay, but if you become a distraction, you need to leave," she sighs.
"Miss Aubrey Caldwell," she addresses me. "When we arrived at the scene of the crime, you were bound with multiple injuries, unconscious beside your friend... Josh, his name is? Yes, the blonde boy. He is fine; he had some date rape drug in him to knock him out, but he's fine now."
"Anyways, back to the topic," she says, "The apartment looked fine, other than the excess amounts of... blood... and a bedroom. The bedroom was covered in glass and was wrecked from head to toe, excluding the bed which was made with a single daffodil on top."
No letter?
What about the bouquet?
"Do you remember anything? Anything at all?" The trainee officer interrupts.
"Officer Hall," the other officer scolds.
"No... only bits and pieces..." I whisper.
"Do you care to tell us?" she asks straightforwardly. I take a deep breath as Harry tightens his grip on my hand.
"I guess... I really don't remember much," I sigh.
"That's alright," she assures.
"There was a lot of blood, I remember that. And I remember talking on the phone... and there was a gun... and I could smell burning metal. I heard the sound of duct tape but I can't see it. And I remember his curly hair..."
"Curly hair?" Officer Black presses.
"Yea, black curly hair," I explain quietly.
"Do you remember his name?"
I shake my head.
"Can you try to think really hard?" she repeats.
I lose myself in my thoughts, ignoring everything around me. I swirl around in a cloud of darkness until the letter pops into my mind. Martin's words... his apprentice...
"Andrew," I gasp.
"Andrew who?"
"He didn't tell me his last name, I think. He was the same one who beat me up, or at least he was the last person I remember seeing the night of the... attack," I explain quietly. Harry tucks my hair behind my ear as it drapes over my eyes.
"That's enough information for now, miss," Officer Black says. "Do you have any questions?"
"Yea," I tell her. She looks at me pensively. "I... I heard a gunshot before I blacked out... Who got shot?" I whisper.
"Andrew, if that's his name."
"But... how? The gun... it - it was aimed at me," I sob.
"You remember that?"
"Clearly, now," I whisper. A tear drips down Harry's cheek, onto my hand. I send him a small smile.
"And... I heard the gun shot ring out... If I didn't - If I didn't -" I sob, gasping for air. Harry pulls my head into his chest and kisses my shoulder, my forehead, my lips.
"Shhh, shh, it's alright, baby," Harry coos, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"W-who got shot?" I stutter through sobs. "Was it- was it J-Josh?"
I start full out balling, my tears staining my cheeks and Harry's shirt. I can feel the distress radiating from his figure.
"No, no. The man you've identified as Andrew shot himself in the head before we got there. You had passed out from blood loss."
I stop sobbing as shock runs through my like electricity.
He - he's dead?
Dead?
"He's gone?"
"Yes, he was dead when we arrived at the scene," Officer Black explains.
I nod and press my head further into harry's warm chest.
"Is that all?" Harry asks as I try to calm my breathing, concentrating on the faint smell of cologne coming from his body.
"No, one more thing. Ms. Caldwell, we know this is the second time you've been ambushed - we were wondering if you would be interested in our help. We would like to conduct an investigation, with your permission, to figure out what happened and why-"
I shake my head, trying to appear calm. "No, that's not need. Thank you, though. Andrew is dead now."
"Okay. Thank you for your time."
Both officers leave the room in silence.
"Aubrey?" Harry whispers.
"I can't believe... I can't believe he's dead. He's gone," I whisper.
"Shh," he coos, rubbing my back.
"He's gone," I choke.
"You're okay," he tells me.
I sniffle and press my lips to his collarbones, then snuggle my head in the crook of his neck.
"Aubrey?" Harry whispers.
"Yea?" I croak, looking up at him through blurred eyelashes.
"I love you so much," he murmurs. "Please, please listen to me when I ask you to stay at my apartment while I'm gone. You worry me so badly," he whimpers.
I give a weak attempt to smile. "Sorry, Harry. I didn't think I was going to get attacked."
"You were piss drunk," he tells me. "So was he."
"I'm sorry, Harry."
"Don't apologize." He shakes his head. "Next time, if you really want to leave, at least let me know. Okay?"
I nod. "I'm still sorry."
-
"So what's the injury count this time?" I joke, a smile over my face as I try to catch my breath.
Oh, how I love a good make out session.
"Well, let's see," Harry hums, wiping my thumb with his lip slowly.
I lean down and place a kiss on his collarbone, then move up his neck, placing several more. I stop and graze his ear before pulling back.
"I'm sorry, am I distracting you?" I ask seductively, my voice low in his ear.
I shift my weight over so I'm laying directly over his crotch. His breathing increases, but he remains silent.
"Hmm..?" I push.
"I - uhh, I mean --" He stutters, blushing a deep red. I giggle at his state.
"You're so cute," I hum, pinching his cheek. He blushes harder.
"Am not," he mumbles.
"Yes, you are," I repeat.
"Noo," he murmurs into the crook of my neck.
I move my head and connect our lips together, sparks flying everywhere. His move softly, with an edge of submissiveness as I take control. Adjusting my hips to a straddle, I roll myself over him the way I had first done so when Harry slept over. This time, though, it wasn't an accident; I knew exactly what I was doing to him. I can feel him react subtly beneath me, hardening.
"Aubrey," Harry moans, disconnecting our lips. His breath is hot against my cold skin, warming me at his every touch.
"Hush..." I whisper as I slowly drag my hand down his shirt, pressing my fingertips gently against his toned stomach.
"I swear to God, you will be the death of me," he groans and brings his lips to mine again. We fight ever so gently, pushing against each other yet moving in complete sync.
"Ahem," someone coughs from the doorway.
"Whoops," I mumble and blush, breaking away from Harry's grip.
I look up and meet the judging eyes of Dr. Sapri.
"As much as I love PDAs, let's keep it PG, alright?" She says strictly. Harry nods but I just stare at her, smirking. "It's bad enough that I've seen you five times this year. This is a hospital, not a doctor's office. I should be seeing you never."
"It's not a PDA if you knock," I push. "And I don't purposely try to come here often."
Harry tries to talk, but I press my index finger against his lips, quieting him.
"At least wait for me to be done before you straddle him again, please," she sighs. I laugh as she comes over to me and checks the numbers on the machine beside me.
"What's the injury count, doc?" I ask, the sexual tension not fading.
"Hm?"
"I asked Harry what my injury count was, but he wouldn't tell me, so I asked you," I explain.
"Hey, you went all touc-"
"Hush, child," I say.
"Well, you have a slight concussion, for one. There are four knife wounds on your left forearm. Cuts, I mean. They aren't infected but we still have to keep a watch on them. You also had a lot glass in your left foot, which we removed while you were under."
"Damn," I mutter.
Then, for some reason, I giggle.
"What meds do you have her on?" Harry asks.
"Tylenol 3's, a little more than usual since we need to disinfect her arm again today." She smiles and shakes her head.
"Ughhh," I groan, flipping and pressing my head into Harry's chest. "No."
"Yes, we need to do it one last time before you head out today."
"But you've already done it like, ten times already!" I whine, a huff following.
"Babe, you're acting like a five-year-old," Harry says slowly in his thick British accent.
"Babe, you're acting like a five-year-old," I mock, rolling my eyes.
I'm glad the doc didn't just give me some weak over-the-counter shit like ibuprofen. Tylenol 3 (T-3's) are god-given. A mix of acetaminophen, codeine, and whatever the fuck else leaves me comfy for a good five hours. Everything's a bit foggy, but it just makes me more attracted to Harry. He's the only clear thing in the room.
"We've only disinfected your arm four times. Once a day, remember?" Dr. Sapri tells me.
"But -"
"No buts. You can hold onto Harry," she huffs as she moves over to my arm and takes off the bandage. Harry nearly gags at the sight, but I shrug.
I had selfishly kept Harry here with me for most of the time during the five-day span I've spent here. His presence, his touch helps me get through it all, especially while disinfecting my arm. I'm always on a good dose of T-3 so I try to focus on him as much as I can. I'm just glad I'm not sober when she does it.
"How can you shrug that off?" Harry asks, dumbfounded.
"Happened before," I mumble quietly.
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
During the crinkle of the wipes being opened, a ringing noise echoes through the air. Harry shuffles off the hospital bed and grabs his phone off the table, before moving to the door.
"Just one second, I have to grab this," he explains, exiting into the hallway. I sigh.
This is gonna suck.
She presses the disinfectant wipe to my arm without warning, and I gasp in pain.
"Damn, could you give me a warning, at least," I ask breathlessly. She gives me a sympathetic look as she dabs my wounds again.
I fight against tears as the stinging in my arm strengthens. Another gasp escapes my lips.
"Fuck," I gulp.
"This is going to hurt," she says as she presses the cloth deeper in my arm. I grip onto the bed sheets tightly, my knuckles red. But, the sheets aren't helping.
"Harry!" I yell, mad that he isn't here.
"One second, love!" He calls back.
"No, not one second! Get your ass back in here!" I scream as my arm stings. "Or give me more meds, for fuck's sake," I seethe.
"I can do that," Dr. Sapri tells me. "One second."
"I'm sorry, I have to go. We'll speak of this later," Harry's voice sways into the room as he slides open the door. Ending the call, he slides his phone in his back jean pocket and then shoves both hands in his pockets.
He gives me a look of pity as he pulls his phone out and puts it down on the table. The bed sinks as he sits down on the bed next to me. I stretch over and try not to move my arm as I press my face into his chest.
"Where'd the doc go?" Harry asks.
"She's upping my drugs."
"Are you gonna have some fun in an hour?" He smirks at me.
"I'm going to be high as a kite, and it's going to be great." A smile doesn't even reach my lips.
Dr. Sapri strides in through the doors. "Well, your dosage is upped but you won't feel any difference for another hour. And I can't wait an hour because I have a renal transplant."
I drop my head to Harry's chest and groan. "It fucking hurts."
"I know, I know it does."
I sigh and tense up as I feel her near my arm.
"Hey... concentrate on my breathing, on your breathing." He hums into my hair, kissing the top of my head. I nod into him.
The intense stinging sensation attacks my forearms again, the heat the exact same as it had felt in the dream before I woke up. It feels like hell is running through the veins of my arms.
"Fuck!" I cry out.
"Shh, hey. Breathe. Listen to my breathing." His fingers tangle their way into my hair and he nuzzles his head down on mine. I slowly begin to feel calmer, counting the seconds between each inhale of his.
One, two, three, four, exhale
One, two, three, four, five, six, inhale
One, two, three-
"Fuck," I mumble, stretching my neck back in response to the pain. I grimace as Dr. Sapri continues to attack my arm with rubbing alcohol and some other disinfectant.
Sharp pain spreads through my arms. I grasp his shirt in my hand and ball it up, tightening my fist as she presses hard one last time.
"That's all for today," she announces. "Good job, you didn't move as much as before," Dr. Sapri tells me. I don't attempt to smile as she stands up from the stool and disposes of the wipe. "I just need to give it a new bandage and you're free to go."
"Sweet," I huff, voice and tone making me sound drained. Hell, I am drained.
She presses the red button beside my bed and brings a roll of gauze to my arm. I hold it out straight as she wraps it several times before tying it off.
"You need to wipe your arm with water every day, twice a day and then change the dressing. Since you've already been here for five days, you only need to disinfect it once a week from now on. You need to call me immediately if anything seems off, though. An infection with a wound like this can be deadly. Do you understand me?" She says strictly. I nod and thank her as she stands up. The nurse from my first visit joins us in the room. "And no bathing with your arm in the water. No soaking it."
She turns to the nurse.
"What do you need, miss?" She asks, looking at me. I shrug, clueless.
"Draw some blood and make sure her counts are good before she leaves." Dr. Sapri turns to Harry and I. "Harry, out - now. She'll be joining you in a minute."
Harry sighs and rolls out of bed, fixing his hair subconsciously before exiting into the hallway. I grimace as the nurse comes up to me and pokes a needle into my vein, pulling out a large sum of blood.
I look away, and before I know it, she's written something on the clipboard in her hand and stood up, disposing of the needle while she's at it.
"Everything looks good. I just need you to sign here and we'll discharge you," she explains, handing me her clipboard. I sign my name on the lines and stand up.
"Actually, you'll need these again for a bit-" She hands me a pair of crutches and I sigh. "Your ankle isn't broken again, but it's badly sprained."
I nod. "Okay. Thank you."
"And I did give you some more T-3's for your arm and feet, but not too much. I still want you to be careful and only take them when you need to. I don't want you coming in here again with another overdose, okay?"
I look to the floor. "Yeah, I'll be careful."
I silently thank God in my mind as I open the door from the private hospital room and slowly step out, searching for Harry.
"Hey," I say when I find him. He doesn't see me as I approach him. He faces opposite, his back to me, with his phone up against his ear. The other hand pulls through his hair in a motion I know too well as the stress reliever.
My head is starting to get foggy again, but that doesn't stop me from hearing Harry's continued phone conversation.
"No, I don't care. I told you to stop contacting me, and that's final," he grunts.
The person on the phone says something and he goes quiet for a bit.
"Thank you. And you know what? Delete my number while you're at it." He sighs.
"Mhm."
Someone else speaks again.
"Goodbye, Joanna."
Joanna.
"Hey," he says, turning around and striding to me. "Crutches again?"
Well, he doesn't seem worried to see me so close during his conversation. Maybe it isn't anything bad, or maybe it doesn't concern me.
"Yeah," I nod, looking down at my boot. "Sprained my ankle pretty bad I guess."
"You're so brave," he says, cupping my cheek with his hand as he comes closer and connects our lips together.
No. He was just talking to Joanna again. I don't want him to kiss me, I want him to explain her.
"You're so beautiful," he coos, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. "Let's get home, yeah?"
When am I really going to figure out who this girl is?
"Yeah," I sigh.