Chapter Nine
His hand fully constricted around my throat and immediately began squeezing-hard-against my sensitive skin. A noise gurgled from my throat, muffled since my airways were being squeezed suddenly, the pressure building up, and I was instantly prying at his hand, trying to get them off of me. However, his grip was powerful and unrelenting, and my vision was really beginning the sway as his fingers tensed up, even more pressure being added.
"No!" I heard Fran shout. "Let go of her! Let go of her!" I was gurgling now, helplessly, tears springing in my eyes when I realized I could not breathe. My nostrils were flaring, trying to take in as much oxygen as I could, though there was a terrible burning sensation all over my throat.
The pressure lessened for a moment when I heard Zayn snap at Fran, and I heard something hit the wall-it must've been Fran from Zayn throwing his arm at her to get her off of him. My mouth was open, panting silently, and my eyes were wide in pure panic.
If he kept this up, I was going to die.
I could already feel my lungs burning from the lack of enough oxygen, and I felt as though my throat was being squished by his bare hands. I was then unaware of where I was, or even who I was.
In moments before death, things get hazy.
I stared straight ahead, but I didn't see Perrie's body lying on the bed or the white wall. No. All I could see right now was inevitable death-of the fact that these were probably going to be my last moments on earth. And I felt salty tears streaming down my cheeks as my hands dropped limply to my sides, succumbing to Zayn's assault. I didn't bother gurgling anymore; my body even went limp, leaning back into Zayn, his arm supporting me around the waist and his hand constricting my throat much like a boa constrictor would do to its prey.
This is it. This is the end.
I instantly thought of my parents-I remembered the day my mom first brought me to pre-school. I was so shy, and I wanted nothing more than to stay with her. I then remembered when I graduated from elementary school, and how my father brought me a red rose to congratulate me on my success and high grades. It was amazing; despite the fact that I haven't spoken to my parents in a long time, they were the last things I thought about in these few moments. And these few moments felt like they were hours long-I felt like I had been dislocated from my body and I was watching a few past memories on a large TV screen.
My head started spinning.
My mind grew faint, and the last memory I had before I simply couldn't think anymore was when I first arrived to London.
I remembered how fascinated I was with the foreign, different world. I fell in love with the literature, the historical sections of the town, and I fell in love with everything at first sight. I remembered getting out of the cab and smiling as I looked right up at the London Eye.
I knew I belonged there.
I could feel it.
And now, here I was, about to die in Cheshire, a completely different town.
Zayn was talking to me, I could feel his breath fanning across my ear, but I couldn't hear him. It was like the world went completely silent-the only sound I could hear was my struggled, ragged breathing, and the pounding of my heart echoing in my shadowy mind.
My eyes flickered closed, my mouth going flaccid as I uttered something that seemed so natural and automatic. I wasn't thinking right now-I was welcoming the enveloping darkness, welcoming death that was sure to come.
Harry.
I mouthed his name, and my head dropped back just when I could feel my world physically tip upside down. My world was pure black for a few moments; the darkest black I had ever witnessed. It was darker than when I first met with Harry back in that run-down building-it was darker than being locked in a closet.
Like Harry once told me, this darkness was empty. Void. It was nothing.
Everything was so quiet and peaceful.
There was no noise.
There was no screaming.
There was absolutely nothing. It was actually full of nothingness.
Death is peaceful.
Death is easy.
I almost felt like smiling at the serenity that washed over me. I've spent nothing but hours and days feeling terrified 27/7 and depressed, so it was nice for a change to feel this tranquility.
Maybe death isn't so bad.
And suddenly-light swarmed everything. My eyes were opened, and I saw just in time as I fell to the ground. My throat was burning like it was on fire, and noises-violent coughing and spurts-were coming out of my mouth, spit dripping down my chin. My eyes were wide in confusion as I grasped onto the carpet, my senses returning in mere seconds.
I was alive?
I gingerly touched my neck, and my skin felt hot and throbbing under my touch. I could hear sounds from behind me, and I turned over my shoulder just in time to see Liam Payne pressing Zayn into the wall, holding him to it with a huge grasp of his collar. Zayn didn't look scared or even remorseful; he just stared at Liam with a blank expression.
"...Harry will kill you," Liam snarled. "He's going to fucking kill you, you know that right?"
"I don't care." Zayn replied boldly. "The bitch needs to die. She's nothing but a distraction. I don't know why Harry's so interested in her anyway."
A low sob racked through me when all the pain was returning to me, washing away the numbness. My throat felt like it had been stepped on by an elephant, and I was weeping loudly, unable to control my fear as I backed up against the wall, cradling my knees to my chest. I began rocking myself, my bangs plastered to my face from all the tears.
I almost died.
I almost died.
I could still feel his fingers around my throat. I could still feel the harshness of his voice-the blood oozing from the side of his face.
And suddenly-unlike before, I didn't want to die. I wanted to go out and see more of the world, I wanted to get another coffee from the nearby store, and I wanted to feel the sun again. I had so much more things I've never done before that I still wanted to do-so much more to live for.
I didn't want to die.
I wanted to live.
And I was literally moments from everything being completely over.
Footsteps sounded into the room, and the first person to walk in was Niall. His blonde hair struck me, and his blue eyes immediately glanced at Perrie and then at me. His face was expressionless as he turned and saw Liam yelling at Zayn again, shaking him roughly, trying to get the other boy to understand the current predicament he was in right now.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Harry's harsh voice sounded then, and Niall moved out of the way just as Harry came into the room. His dark emerald eyes were instantly on me, taking in my disheveled form and my tears, and his entire face twisted into an ugly, furious expression. I've seen that expression before-I've seen it when that one man picked me up and tried running with me. He only had that truly deadly furious face when he was ready to literally kill someone.
Harry was crouching in front of me in just a few seconds, silently pulling away my hair to peer down at my neck. He must've seen something, because his eyes flickered at the sight, and he straightened up and turned on Zayn.
Liam had released him now, standing off to the side, and Zayn was staring back at Harry with a cold look.
"I don't know what's with you," Zayn started, "but that bitch is nothing but a distraction. She's a problem, mate."
Harry didn't reply like I thought he would. I could see now that Louis joined Niall off to the side with serious expressions, watching the scene in front of them with neutral eyes. I, on the other hand, was backed into the wall as much as I could, my mouth open and low sobs coming through. I couldn't stop myself.
I've never felt this scared before.
"What did I tell you about touching her?"
Harry's voice was quiet and calm, eerie and demanding. My arms grew small goose bumps from the sound of his voice, and the room was utterly silent.
Zayn shrugged, hesitating. "You told me not to touch her."
Harry moved so fast-I had to keep a close watch to even see what was happening. Harry suddenly had Zayn pinned forcefully up into the wall, and his own hand was around Zayn's neck, forcing him back. He had a firm hold, and he wasn't squeezing, but he was pinning Zayn by his neck, so I could see Zayn struggling a bit under the hold.
"I gave you a fucking order," Harry seethed loudly, and because of this, Louis slowly locked the front door to the apartment.
"I'm trying to help us," Zayn replied loudly, though his voice was strained from the hold of his neck. "Don't you see what she's doing to you? She's making you weak."
It was silent again when Harry delivered a powerful punch to Zayn's abdomen; the curly-haired male released Zayn's neck, and I was surprised that Zayn didn't even double over from the strong blow. He was stronger than that. However, Harry only delivered a punch to Zayn's face, and from that blow, something snapped in Harry.
He started punching Zayn in the face over and over, his blows fast and ultimately powerful. My crying ceased when I heard the punches making contact with Zayn's face, and I saw Zayn's strong body being thrown back against the wall from Harry's blind assault.
I couldn't ever imagine getting hit like that, especially by Harry.
I saw a glimpse of blood as Harry didn't once pause, and I was still shocked when Zayn simply took the blows-he didn't raise his arms to defend his face and he didn't fight back. I guess everything was happening so fast, the pain overwhelming, that Zayn simply didn't have a chance to fight back.
However, it got to the point where Zayn fell to the ground. Harry stood over him, and I could physically see Harry's chest heaving a little from his exertion. Zayn stayed limp on the ground, blood on his face, his right eye swollen and black, and he was coughing blood now. I thought it was over.
But it wasn't.
Harry started kicking Zayn, like he was a dog or something. He was kicking Zayn everywhere, but he started with the face. Even I winced when I saw this, because this time, Zayn's body was in survival mode, and he raised his arms to shield his face from Harry's blows. Zayn's body was trembling terribly-and I knew he was hurt very badly.
Louis and Niall looked like they were going to step in, while Liam was shaking his head in disappointment.
"Do you call this weak? Harry shouted, his voice booming throughout the apartment before he brought his leg back and delivered a kick to Zayn's stomach. "Huh? Is this fucking weak to you?"
Zayn wasn't making any noise, which was alarming me now. His hands were held up blindly, his body twisting and churning, trying his best to avoid Harry's foot. I knew Harry's black boots were hard-it was different than wearing tennis shoes. These boots probably hurt ten times worse.
"The only weak one around here," Harry continued, "is you."
Louis finally stepped in; he grabbed Harry by the elbow and said gently, "Harry, mate, you're going to kill him."
Harry didn't reply. He did, however, pause, but then he delivered more swift kicks. I could see his curly hair bounding with his movements, his hands constricted into tight fists.
"Harry, for fuck's sake!" Louis said louder, nodding at Niall. "Zayn is our mate, remember?" He and Niall both grabbed Harry's arms and pulled him away. Harry gave up on kicking Zayn now, though I could hear his heavy breathing from where I sat. My entire face and body was frozen now, my eyes staring at Zayn, unable to look away. I couldn't even see his face now; it was covered in nothing but his own blood. He was lying on the ground in a heap, his hands still shakily shielding his face.
And the strangest thing happened.
As I looked over Zayn's inconceivable face, I felt pity. I didn't even know the pain he was feeling right now-he was probably knocked unconscious. And yes I was terrified still from him nearly killing me earlier, but it was still never right to kill someone.
That's what I've been taught all my life. Life was precious, and it should never be taken by someone else's hands.
It looked like Harry was actually trying to get out of Louis's and Niall's grasp; his legs were moving, itching to get back to hurting Zayn. I was on my feet in moments, and despite all the fear and pain from earlier, I knew it was never, ever right to kill someone. The only exception I could think of was unless someone was trying to kill you. But extracting revenge on someone was not a good enough excuse-no matter what they've done.
Louis and Niall noticed my movement instantly while Harry was still glaring at Zayn with such a hateful look in his eyes. My face was masked as I walked to Harry, and his eyes flickered to mine, widening for a moment when he saw me approaching. Louis and Niall glanced at one another before slowly releasing Harry.
I paused in front of Harry; he stared back at me, his chest still heaving a bit and I could see Zayn's blood splattered on his arms. There was even some blood on his cheeks, and his hair was wild in a frenzy from earlier. Even his eyes looked crazy and unstable.
He was unstable.
My lips opened and an unwilling snuffle came out, a weird sound that came out so unexpected, and without another moment of hesitation, I threw myself into his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my head, smelling his musky scent.
"Just let it go," I said, my voice muffled. "Don't kill him, Harry."
Harry pulled me away, his large blood-coated hands grasping onto my shoulders, and he had to bend his head to peer straight into my eyes. His brown eyebrows were furrowed in bewilderment, and he stared at me like he thought I was losing my mind.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill him," Harry said, his voice now hushed and hoarse from his yelling earlier. "Fuck Claire, look at your neck." His face grew furious again, a deep scowl forming on his face just when his eyes glanced down at my neck. "He fucking bruised you. Watch out," He made to brush past me but I moved forward, grabbing him around the waist again, burying my face back in his chest.
"No," I said quietly, shaking my head. "No, Harry."
"Let go of me, Claire," Harry sounded angry again, and I could hear the rapid beating of his heart. His arms were trying to pull me off of him, but I had a death-like grip on his waist.
Louis and Liam took this as the opportunity to get Zayn off the ground; I could hear them shuffling him out of the room. Harry was getting rougher with me, trying harder to push me off of him. But I only clasped my other hand behind his back and held on for my life.
"Are you fucking insane?" Harry snarled as soon as Zayn was gone. I let myself be pushed away as Harry glared down at me.
"Nobody needs to die tonight," I murmured, and as I said this, I remembered Perrie. I looked over to see Fran and Louis standing over the bed; Louis was feeling her wrist, his face entirely solemn.
I rushed to her side and felt like crying all over again that day when I saw her pale, sweaty face. Her legs were still bare, and I felt like throwing up when I could see the bodily fluids all over the bed from what Zayn was doing to her. And for a moment, seeing her body like this, I really wished I had let Harry kill Zayn.
"Is she alive?" I asked Louis, tearing my eyes off of her.
"She's alive, but barely," Louis replied, setting down her wrist. "She's heavily drugged. I have an anti-septum that'll counteract the drugs."
"He drugged her?" Fran asked.
"Yeah." Louis looked at Fran.
"What can we do for her now?" I asked.
"I think we should clean her up." Fran choked a little as both of our eyes traveled back to her legs, seeing multiple bruises forming now. The smell of their bodily fluids was heavy now that I was sitting next to her, and my throat was tightening greatly.
"Claire doesn't need to be seeing this," Harry muttered as his hand grabbed my elbow, encouraging me to stand up. "Come on, let's go back to our room."
I tugged away from him, gritting my teeth. "I'm not leaving Perrie."
"Harry's right," Louis added, "none of you girls need to see this." His eyes were actually almost repentant as he looked over Perrie. "Liam and I can clean her up."
"What does it even matter to you?" Fran asked a little coldly now, her voice venomous. "You've probably seen much worse than this and you probably didn't do anything about it. What's so different this time?"
Louis's eyes turned into a tight glare as he stared at her. "Do you want us to help her or not?"
Fran let out a resigned sigh and got off the bed. I felt Harry's hand on my elbow again, pulling me up, and I tore my eyes off of Perrie as Harry began leading me out of the room. Liam passed us by with two wet rags in his arms, and his brown eyes didn't look at me. Niall spoke to Fran and started leading her to where he was staying, and I caught a glimpse of Eleanor in the hallway. However, Harry had his strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist, tugging me off to our room.
"You should've let me kill him." Harry muttered as he sat down next to me, setting a cup of water on the table for me. I drank greedily from it; my throat was burning again, and I think it even may be internally bruised or something. I drank as much as I could, feeling Harry's eyes on me, and set it down.
"Killing someone is never right," I replied, as if trying to convince myself. I kept thinking back to Perrie.
"It gets things taken care of." Harry replied, and I felt his eyes go back to my neck. I looked in the mirror earlier and yes there were bruise marks from Zayn's fingers, and yes, I was still deeply unnerved by my near-death experience. But for some reason, seeing Harry almost beating Zayn to death made me even more disturbed. But then I thought about when I walked in on Zayn and saw what he was doing to Perrie...
"The world is so messed up," I said, my mouth going dry again when I felt the inevitable tears returning. I licked at my lips, and my lower lip was quivering. I knew that if I didn't stop thinking about what happened earlier, then I was going to start crying all over again. I dabbed at my eyes and turned to Harry, "Why is the world so messed up, Harry?"
His face was emotionless as he took in my reddening eyes. He didn't answer for a few moments. "I don't know, Claire." His eyebrows scrunched at my expression and he actually wrapped his arm around me and pulled me swiftly halfway into his lap, letting my legs sprawl out over the other side of his lap. My back was sitting up against the edge of the couch, and Harry's eyes looked like they were thinking back to something.
"When I saw what he did to you," Harry murmured quietly, "all I saw was red. I couldn't think, I couldn't even see straight. I really, really wanted to kill him when I saw your neck." His voice was almost gentle now, reassuring me, and my head lolled back against his broad shoulder. The tears were dissipating from my eyes, and I literally felt my entire body relax, despite the look in Harry's eyes when he recalled to what happened. "What I've noticed about the people in the world is that if someone is already too gone, too fucked up, they try to fuck up someone else's life." My eyes flickered to Harry when he said this. "Some people are just too far gone to even realize it. And all they want is to spread it. Because they were fucked up, they want everyone else they meet to be like them." His arms tightened around me, and he shifted a little under me, licking at his bottom lip. "So what I don't understand is why you didn't want me to kill him." His eyes were on me again, and he examined me with interest, his eyes alit with fascination. "Claire, you were literally the only reason why I didn't kill him. You understand that, right? And you also understand that he almost killed you?"
"I know, I know." I replied in a low whisper, since my throat was hurting I didn't want to talk loud. "But two wrongs don't make a right." I looked into his eyes and he still had that captivated look, as if he truly could not grasp what I was trying to mean. I shakily grabbed Harry's hand, my smaller hand taking in his, lightly grasping his palm. "But I'm alive, and I'm okay. I'm really just worried about Perrie."
"Don't lie to me," Harry whispered. "Don't you dare lie to me. You can't just say you're okay-because you're not . I can see it in your eyes."
That was all it took.
I started sobbing-I didn't know where the hell the tears came from, but they came and they wouldn't stop. I was covering my face so Harry wouldn't see.
"I-I came into the room," I said through my hands, "and he was violating her, Harry. He saw me and he gave me this look-I'll never forget the look he gave me. I-I didn't know what to do...but I've never met someone so...so heartless like that. Perrie wasn't conscious; she was just lying there like she was d-dead or something." My voice was hysterical now, my emotions breaking through their dam and spreading throughout me. I leaned further into Harry, my entire body rocking with my sobs, and I was vaguely aware of Harry's arms closing on all around me again, holding me firmly to his chest.
"And then when he was choking me," I continued, "I-I, all I saw was black and I thought I was going to die. I thought all about my parents and I remembered when I first came to London. Everything was so quiet and numb and peaceful and it-it was just so scary and I've never felt like that before. I don't want to feel like that again. His fingers kept squeezing and squeezing, and my head felt like it was spinning..."
"That'll never happen to you again." Harry whispered steadfastly. "You'll never feel like that again, Claire. Not when I'm around." It felt like he wanted to say something more, but then I started rambling again.
"A-and when I knew I was moments from death, all I could think about was..." I trailed off, opening my eyes again to find myself staring up at him. His eyes were just gazing back at me, his face blank again, though I could see this certain look in his eyes. I picked up my hand to wipe my eyes, sniffling quietly to myself. "All I thought about was you."
"You thought about me?" Harry repeated slowly.
I nodded feebly, suddenly regretting on admitting to that. This for some reason reminded me of when I told Harry I loved him back at the police station. To this day, I remembered the look of total disgust I got from him.
I've said too much.
"Can I go to sleep?" I asked quietly.
Harry silently picked me up off of the couch and carried me into my room, closing the door behind him with his foot. He laid me on the bed and I immediately scooted up to the pillow, not caring that I was still in my bathing suit and that my hair was still full of chlorine. Each and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Perrie getting violated by Zayn. I could still smell the stench of it afterwards when I sat next to her. And I could see that Harry still had Zayn's blood on him, even now in the dimness of the room.
"I'm going to take a shower," Harry mumbled.
I nodded in return, turning over in the bed. I heard Harry leave the room, and I head the door open and close as he left.
Two wrongs don't make a right. Remember that, Claire. Don't forget it.
"This is your last and final challenge," Clay said to Harry as he closed the metal door behind him. Sixteen year-old Harry glanced around the room, seeing the pure, pale white walls and the smallness of the room. He did think it was strange that there was a twin bed sitting in the very corner; it had no blankets or pillows. It only had a mattress.
"Once you complete this," Clay continued, "then you'll be part of the gang."
Harry was ready to do anything; he had spent the last four days doing nothing but tasks assigned from the gang leader. He wasn't particularly fond of Clay, since the man liked to wear more jewelry more than anything, which caused Harry to believe that the man was all about money, but Clay was nonetheless, his only string to the opening for the gang.
"If you don't complete this," Clay said, "then we'll have to get rid of you."
By 'get rid of you,' Clay meant that they would kill Harry if he refused to do what they asked.
Clay's dark eyes were staring at Harry, awaiting his response.
"I'm up for anything," Harry replied with a hint of impatience. He flexed his fingers into fists, waiting to finally see what his last challenge was.
"Bring her in," Clay called loudly, and the metal doors opened to have a man wearing a dark suit enter first. Behind him came a girl with light auburn hair framing her face, blowing past her small, petite body, and Harry immediately saw that her hands were tied together in front of her.
"This is Hailey," Clay said, taking a moment to openly look over her body. The girl's head was bowed, her eyes focused on the floor. "Her daddy used to be part of us, but he gave information away to the police a few weeks ago. So, Harry, we want you to show her what happens when shit like that happens."
"What do you want me to do with her?" Harry asked bluntly. "Kill her?"
"No, we want you to rape her." The rest of the men were leaving the room, but Clay was so blunt when he said this. Harry was closely watching the girl; she looked like she was only a teenager, like himself.
"We want you to dominate her, show her who the fuck is boss." Harry watched as Clay stroked the girl's face and suddenly sent a harsh slap across it. She had to bite down on her lower lip from the blow, and her eyes glanced up to meet Harry's. She had pure green eyes, and there were a few light freckles dotting over her cheeks. Her mouth did however open in a yelp when Clay grabbed her hair, forcing her neck to bend backwards from the pressure. "That's all you have to do, and you can have fun with it, Harry. It's even better since she's a virgin." He broke off in laughter and shoved the girl forward, who stumbled into Harry's arms.
Harry was a little, well, very shocked at his last task. He had to rape her? He's had sex before, but it was actually with older women. The last girl he went to bed with was 21, and he was only 16 at the moment. His women history didn't consist of virgins either.
Clay left the room, closing the door behind him. Harry was left staring at the girl's face; she stared back at him, her eyes wide in terror.
"P-please," She whispered faintly, "please don't hurt me. Please."
Harry, on the other hand, was wondering how the hell he was supposed to get turned on by doing this. He liked confident, willing women, not scared teenage girls.
"Let's get this over with," Harry mumbled after awhile, knowing they were probably watching him through a few cameras. He decided he would make this as quick as possible, both for his benefit and the girl's benefit. What was her name again? Whitney? "Get on the bed."
"No," She protested, "No, please, it's not my fault my dad betrayed them! I've had no part in this!"
They can hear every single thing I say.
"Get on the fucking bed," Harry snapped as he began unbuttoning his jeans. The girl stared open mouthed when his pants fell down to his knees, revealing his dark boxers. When Harry saw that she hadn't moved from the spot, he gritted his teeth and grabbed her hair, practically dragging her to the bed. "Lie down,"
If you don't do this, I'll die.
The girl, once again didn't move, so Harry shoved her hard on the bed and his eyes watched her small butt move from the movement. He was really trying to get somewhat turned on, because right now, he really didn't want to do this. But he really had no choice.
He pulled his boxers down and grabbed her hips, pulling her back towards him. She wasn't able to really do anything, since her hands were tied, and her eyes were pleading with him. Harry stared back at her, suddenly realizing that he could actually see the purity and innocence staring back at him. The girl was a virgin.
It's like she's made of light.
"Let's just get this done," Harry grumbled as he started to stroke his dick, his eyes staring hard at her chest. He didn't want to take it off-since he really just wanted to do this, but she had a light blue tank top covering her chest, and Harry noticed that her chest wasn't fully developed yet. So he tore his eyes off of that and went down to her pale legs, but her legs seemed too skinny to really appeal to him.
Harry forced her legs apart, ignoring her protests once again, and he took off her lower clothing to finally have her bare naked. He could already tell she was tight, and he saw a small patch of auburn hair framing her womanly part. The sight of her most private part of her body did have an effect on Harry; he could feel his dick hardening under his hand, and he was glad. They could finally just get this over with.
He knew this was going to hurt the girl. He knew it was. But he figured that if he could just get it over with, then the pain would be less because it wouldn't last that long.
"No, no," She begged again just as Harry positioned himself.
He scrunched his eyebrows, his eyes focused on her legs. "Shut up."
He then smoothly thrusted into her, and his face winced when her tightness actually hurt his dick. It was almost like she was too tight.
She had started crying now as Harry began thrusting into her. It really was hurting his dick, but he grabbed a firm hold of her knees and tried to keep his gaze to the wall. He didn't want to look at her face right now, not when he could hear how hard she was crying.
However, even when he was looking away from her, he could feel her staring up at him.
"Stop looking at me," Harry snapped, more pain erupting in him when she clenched against him. This really was hurting him, but it was better than taking a bullet to his brain-that was for sure.
The girl grew strangely quiet when Harry was almost done. He could feel her blood pooling on the bed, soaking the white sheets, and the blood was actually making it was little less painful. He actually began to enjoy himself, losing himself in the moment, until he looked down when he was close.
Her eyes were staring up at him, her mouth hung limply open. She wasn't staring at him with hateful, cold or accusing eyes, and this deeply bothered Harry. He even paused a bit, his dick shoved inside of her, face turning into confusion.
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked quietly, going back to thrusting into her. He still stared down at her, exhaling sharply each time he thrusted in.
"I forgive you," She whispered quietly, her voice breathless. Harry's eyes saw her chapped lips turn into a small smile, despite the torture shone in her eyes. "I forgive you..."
What the hell was she talking about?
Harry, suddenly not wanting any part of this, pulled away from her and quickly grabbed her pants, wiping at his dick. He saw her blood oozing off of his member, and he stared at the girl, who was still lying on the bed with her legs opened, as if she was insane.
I forgive you.
"There," Harry stared loudly so whoever was watching could hear it. "I did it. I'm done." His heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chest when he saw her eyes still staring at him, that faraway look in his eyes. The bed was now stained in blood, and the blood was also soaking her inner thighs.
Harry then quickly decided that from then on, he would never rape a girl. There was no pleasure in it for him-he wanted willing women, not girls who were going to beg him not to do it. Besides, he wasn't very comfortable with a girl staring at him like this girl was.
"Congratulations," Clay suddenly strode into the room just as Harry was zipping his jeans back up. Clay was holding a silver pistol and was twirling it with his fingers. Harry froze when he saw the lethal weapon-did he do something wrong? Were they going to kill him?
"You're part of us now," Clay stated, throwing his arm around Harry. "You proved your full-fledged loyalty to the gang. I mean, look at her." He gestured to the girl, who was now crying again, trying to sit up on the bed. "Isn't she a beauty? She would've turned into one hell of a woman, do you agree?"
"Sure," Harry mumbled, wanting to roll his eyes. However, when he looked up, he saw Clay's face narrowing.
"Too bad that the penalty for disloyalty is death," Clay grumbled, and Harry's eyes widened when he aimed the pistol at the girl.
Harry turned his head just in time to see a bullet hole go right through her forehead, and her green eyes were right on Harry when they froze completely. Blood was immediately coming from the whole on her head, and her entire body jolted from the powerful blow. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in death, and they were still on Harry, although they were now empty. They weren't pure or full of light-they were dead.
She was dead.