Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

My neck was in pain. The kind of pain, I realized as I slowly began to move, that radiated down my whole shoulder and along my back.

With a soft groan, I opened my eyes and shifted into a sitting position. Blinking a few times, I noticed with a glance at the windows to my left that it was now light outside. And I was still in the living room on the couch.

"You're finally up."

The sound of Harry's voice made me jump. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest when I turned to look at him. Of course, that seemingly constant expression of malice and irritation that he seemed to wear everywhere was burning bright in his gaze.

"What time is it?" I croaked, furrowing my brows. His gun was still on the coffee table. The plate of food I'd set down last night had disappeared without a trace. Beside me, Meatloaf was slumped on her back, dozing away.

I dragged my gaze back over to Harry, who was still watching me. He curtly responded, "Almost 10."

"Oh my God, in the morning?"

"Obviously, in the morning," Harry grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"I slept here all night?" I asked, bewildered as to how I'd been able to both fall and stay asleep on the couch beside Harry for almost 10 hours. "With you?"

"I didn't sleep," Harry said, an echo of last night, "Not like I could anyway. About 20 minutes after you put that God-awful movie on, you passed right out and sprawled along the length of the couch snoring like a chainsaw."

For some reason, my immediate reaction was to clamp a hand over my mouth. "I don't snore," I hissed softly into my palm, wincing slightly. That explained the crick in my neck.

Harry's brows shot up in amusement. He pushed off the counter, leaning down to level himself with me. "Oh, yes," he muttered with a small smirk, "You do."

A pang of both annoyance and embarrassment shot through me at the fact that Harry had born witness to my ugly sleeping habits. If he had just fucking left last night like I'd wanted, I wouldn't be in pain right now and he wouldn't know that I snored.

"Don't stand so close to me," I mumbled in irritation, backing up on the couch. "I know for a fact that you haven't brushed your teeth since yesterday morning."

Harry's expression morphed into annoyance. "I went back to my place this morning."

"What?" I shook my head. "When did you even get the time?"

I should've picked up on it right away. I hadn't even realized, in my sleep-ridden state, that he was wearing different clothes from yesterday. No longer was he dressed in his blouse and slacks but had changed into a black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"You mean when you weren't sleeping half the day away?"

My eyes narrowed at him. "Okay, 10 a.m. is hardly the whole fucking day, first of all," I shot back. "And second of all, not all of us can stay up for 48 hours straight."

It unnerved me that Harry had managed to both leave and come back without me knowing. Mainly because I probably should have been more alert, given everything that was going on, but I guess part of me just figured he would have stayed. Not that had I wanted him to, but he'd been here anyway.

The events of last night came back in fractured pieces, popping up unbidden in my mind. I screwed my eyes shut, giving my head a small shake, in attempt to rid of them, only to find that the picture of Damien's face and Harry beating the shit out of some man seemed to sink into the sides of my brain like glue. Sticky and relentless, unwilling to let go.