RED ROOM [H.S]

21.

24 hours to go...

My new favorite game was to watch how many times Harry crackled his knuckles.

Within the last hour, I counted 10 times. I feel like that was a lot for one person, but he didn't really seem to realize what he was doing. I felt more relaxed as I stretched my legs out in the backseat of his Range Rover. Oddly enough, I felt refreshed. My body was still ridden with anxiety, though I found the worries of Smurf, my apartment, the club, Bill drifting away slowly as we drove further away from the place I called home.

I hated the fact that they were all going to still be there when I got back, but for now, I pretended I was going on a vacation and that I was going willingly. Like this was all my idea. It sounded crazy, but it actually helped the heaviness in my chest ease and the fear I had for the future numb. I knew it was still there, but it was crammed in the back of my head, in an area I refused to visit.

I shut my eyes tightly. If I was going to die between here and New York, I might as well try and enjoy myself. I will die somewhere far away from all the bullshit of Las Vegas. At least I wouldn't die in the same city as my parents. I would not want to see them when I was ghost. They'd be the reason why my place in heaven would be revoked.

"Tired again?" Harry asked. I heard him lower the music so it was just a slight hum.

I opened my eyes to meet his in the rear view mirror. "Not really, just enjoying the ride."

Harry's lips twitched into a smile. I could tell the small talk we had been having was making him happy - if that's even an emotion he could feel. I didn't know if psychopaths felt any positive emotions to be honest. But he seemed rather content about my answer.

"Interesting answer," he commented, turning his eyes back to the road.

I turned my own gaze to the window, watching how the trees turned into a blur of green. "I've accepted that I'm going to die. I'm just going to enjoy the time I have before then. I've been miserable every day of my life for the last twenty-three years. For once, I am going to try and be happy, even if death meets me at the end of the road."

Harry didn't say anything, but I heard the deep intake of breath. "Spice-"

"You wanted me to be honest," I said interrupting him. "That's me being honest, Harry."

21 hours to go...

I called time three hours later. I didn't know how Harry could sit there driving for so long, but my body was aching, and my stomach was rumbling. The sun was beginning to set, and I genuinely couldn't comprehend how we had been driving for so long. Harry had stopped to fill up gas a couple of times, but other than that, he just kept driving. He was a man on a mission.

We were passing through a town when I decided to speak up. "Can we please pull over?" I asked, stretching my legs out. My phone had died on me in the middle of a boring game of Angry Birds and I hadn't nothing to distract myself. I was sick of being in the car.

"We have a few more hours of daylight," Harry answered, though his voice gave away how tired he was. "We can't stop."

I sighed loudly. "The suns about to set - I don't think it will kill you to pull over."

"You'd be surprised," he said flatly.

I ignored his comment. "I'm sure there's another motel around here somewhere...and possibly some place to eat?"

He frowned. "You're hungry?"

"I'm not a bird, I need to eat three times a day."

He rolled his eyes at me, but didn't say anything. I was prepared to start begging, but he pulled into the first restaurant he saw. It happened to be right across from a motel. Thank the fucking lord.