Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

I couldn't say exactly what happened after we left the hotel. Nor could I say who dragged me out, shoved me into one of the black vans and slid into the seat next to mine hollering out at the drivers an address in Italian that I couldn't recognize. I also wouldn't be able to say just how I wound up next sitting squished between Niall and Louis at a booth in a very loud, very crowded bar with a drink in my hand.

Whether it was the nerves or the adrenaline that followed, everything had been a blur.

The only thing that had rung out loud and clear to me, the thing I found myself wondering as I stumbled out of the hotel on unsteady feet, as I sat fiddling with the hem of my dress in the back of the van, as I now sat alongside the rest of everyone else was that Harry wasn't here. And I had no idea where he was.

He'd disappeared right after the drop. All I'd gotten was a few seconds of confusing eye contact before he'd fled, completely ignoring me when I tried to go after him and ask what was going on, if I'd done something wrong. They were the questions I kept asking myself in the hours afterwards, where I played over and over in my head the events of the drop, trying to pinpoint exactly where I'd screwed up until I couldn't even stomach thinking about it anymore.

What I did remember was my ability to make mindless conversation, that I'd somehow been able to stay engaged enough with everyone around me to talk about what had gone on, to reiterate a million times over how crazy it was. That no, I hadn't gone in there expecting to break a man's nose and arm but yes, I would do it again if provoked. I had felt giddy, almost euphoric, in a way I'd never before experienced. The world around me, for a few brief hours at least, had seemed surreal.

But now that the adrenaline had worn off and the perfect, excited little bubble that I'd allowed myself to float around in these past few hours had popped, everything seemed too real. The severity of the situation, what I'd done, what Damien had tried to do, hit me like a physical blow. One that, when I finally found myself being dragged back to reality kicking and screaming, I was glad I was sitting down. And that someone had put a glass of whiskey in my hands.

"Where are we?"

The words sounded foreign coming out of my mouth. It didn't even sound like my own voice. For a few seconds, I wasn't sure if I'd just thought them or actually spoken them aloud until a hand closed tightly around my shoulder and an Irish voice slurred, "We're celebrating!"

"Niall, give her some space." Morgan wrapped her hand around his forearm, dragging him out of the booth, before promptly dropping herself down in his place. She set down her own glass, dragging a finger through the condensation, her eyes never leaving mine. Quietly, she clarified, "We're at a bar. A little out of the city."

"Right," I nodded slowly, taking a sip of my drink. My nose scrunched in disgust at the smoky, foul liquid that pooled onto my tongue. "Have we been here awhile?"

"A few hours," Morgan said softly. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, still eyeing me carefully. Like I was a ticking time bomb.

"Where's Harry?"

"We don't know," she went on, trying and failing to hide the strain in her voice. "We still don't know anything since you asked about a half-hour ago."

"I – what?" My brows twitched together. I ran the heel of my hand over my forehead a few times. "I already asked?"

Morgan huffed a laugh, audible only to me over the music. Everyone else that had been sitting at our table had disappeared. "You sort of... checked out for a bit."

I glanced over at her. "Checked out...?"

"You were super talkative on the ride here; I swear you were almost vibrating right out of your seat. Zayn practically had you in his lap to keep you from jumping out the door," she was smiling now, trying to chip away at the thick layer of tension that hung between us. "You kept threatening to go back and break Temarran's other arm. You even showed us that Harry taught you how to use a revolver." She drew in a steadying breath, sobering her tone a fraction. "I think you were on a bit of an adrenaline high because as soon as we got here and actually started talking about repercussions, about Damien, you just sort of went... a little quiet," Her gaze landed on mine, eyes full of something I couldn't read. "It's normal though. The first time I did anything like this, I went into shock too. When I was like 14, I saw some guy get his shins shattered and I didn't sleep or talk to anyone for almost two whole weeks."