THE TAYLORS [H.S]

34.

Hey Alexa, play Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects.

I was sat in the backseat of the car, half tempted to ask Harry to play that exact song to drown out the silence ringing in my ear.

Maybe I was trying to show that I wasn't affected by our little rendezvous by sitting in the backseat and not the passenger, though the fact of the matter was that my hands hadn't stopped shaking since we both hurried to get dressed and made our way down the stairs and out of the club.

I felt frazzled, which wasn't normal for me. I felt like static was making its way through my body, until it rested on my lips. I felt as if I needed a cigarette and I didn't even smoke.

Despite the fact I was trying to make a point by sitting in the back of the car whilst Harry drove us back to the house, I couldn't help my wide eyes pierce into the back of his neck. From here, I could see where the sweat was clinging to his hair, and I had a flash of the moment I was sat in his lap, my hands sinking into his brown locks.

His shirt collar was slightly ruffled, something that looked so out of the ordinary on him.

My snarky comment when we had finished was one of pure defence, rushing to defuse how large the situation actually was before he did. Though his eyes glowed with a type of anger I hadn't seen before. One more possessive. I like it. It was so unhealthy but I fucking loved it.

I shouldn't of loved it, but I did. It made me feel alive. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only one that held his attention, and something toxic in me hoped that was the case. That maybe because I shared a moment with him, so dark and filthy that his mind might be as infatuated with me as I was with him.

As we came into view of the estate, my mind seemed to catch up with where we were as Harry punched in the code, and my eyes narrowed at the driveway that seemed to go on forever.

"Why are we here?" I spoke, my voice sounding far too gravelly for my liking. My eyes searched the grounds, looking at how deserted everything looked. The lack of guards was apparent, and I wasn't sure why that was. Despite my brothers not being in the country, the estate still needed to be guarded. "I don't want to stay here."

Harry's eyes met mine in the mirror, seemingly to glare at me like this was all my fault. Whatever regrets he was suddenly harbouring wasn't my issue, and I wanted to spit the words out like venom, though I bit down on my tongue. Even from here, I could see the mixture of emotions he had towards what had just happened, and it made a wave of tension flow threw my body.

I didn't hold any regrets. About anything. I didn't like being someone's else's regret. I could already feel my defensive walls go up, and I matched his glare.

"I assumed you would want to collect some clothes, Annabeth. We aren't staying here."

We.

I pursed my lips as I looked out the window, waiting for the car to pull to a stop. As we did, my eyes caught a glimpse of car hidden in the shadows of the house, nestled between the trees.

My blood felt cold as I stared at it, not recognising it for any of the cars owned by my family.

"Harry," I hissed as he halted to a harsh stop. His eyes seem to land on it the same moment I did, his gun suddenly nestled between his thighs as he stripped himself from his belt.

"Get down and don't look up until you hear me say your name," he said, his voice low. His eyes however, stayed locked on the car. No movement could be seen, and I think that's what frightened me the most. Who's car was it and how the hell did they manage to get onto the grounds?