Cleo Horan
Do you know when you're feeling so fucking tired that you just want to sleep but you're also too tired to even begin to fall asleep?
That was me right now.
It was currently 7 a.m. and I was in bed wearing just my new unicorn sweatshirt and underwear after a much-needed shower to clean the dry blood off my body.
And now I was staring at the ceiling and trying to process the past six hours of my life.
Harry and I had gotten home two hours ago but we didn't come to bed straight away, I had to redo the bandage on his wound and also take care of the cut on his cheekbone, and he helped me stitch up the gash on my neck. It wasn't anything too serious, but I risked a lot when I forced myself against the knife, it could've been much worse.
Harry and I had gotten home two hours ago but we didn't come to bed straight away, I had to redo the bandage on his wound and also take care of the cut on his cheekbone, and he helped me stitch up the gash on my neck. It wasn't anything too serious, but I risked a lot when I forced myself against the knife, it could've been much worse.
The bandage around my neck was a bit suffocating though, I was already having trouble breathing properly because of the imminent panic attack threatening to surprise me at any given minute.
I didn't even bother to take painkillers, to be honest, my mind was too numb already and it was taking over my body, I'd never felt so detached from anything else before.
Harry and I also stopped by the living room and decided to update the crime board written on his window, while our brains were still fresh with all the thoughts about the information we recently discovered, and we just had to write it all down.
Turns out we erased pretty much everything we had there and we made a new one, and Zayn was going to be very confused when he woke up, he was deep asleep when we arrived. We left a note to let him know we were back because Harry and I were naive to think we would manage to get some rest before diving back into this mess, that's why we went to his bedroom.
He was lying down right next to me, also looking at the ceiling, hoping that maybe we could find some answers there.
We had even more questions than we previously did, which was a new record. There was this constant buzzing in my head and it managed to be worse than a headache, rushed thoughts and memories had intertwined into a mess.
But on a brighter note... we weren't arrested and we talked to June. Well,
Amber.
Breaking into an FBI agent's home, stabbing said agent, and nearly killing her, were just a few things I could add to my resume now, along with experience with sociopath parents and a Ph.D. on being lied to during your entire life.
I was honestly about to let Harry kill Amber, I felt so fucking betrayed and hurt that I couldn't even process anything. But what she told us... the moment she told me about my mother and Desmond working together, there was no way I wasn't going to ask more questions.
Which was how we ended up talking for hours... mostly just me and Amber because Harry still wanted to kill her and he made sure to keep his gun aimed at her head.
But the more she explained about the trafficking, I'd only get more confused and upset, and I told her everything about the list and our targets, the whole connection with my father, and also the small detail someone was setting up both me and Harry.
We argued and Harry thought I was stupid by telling her everything, but honestly how much worse could it get? We were fucked and I saw an opportunity... an opportunity to learn more about what was going on so we could finally get our answers.
