Murder Mystery - H.S

32*

The smut in this chapter contains a threesome. If that's not what you're into/your cup of tea, there is a star ☆ where it begins so feel free to stop reading :)

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Juliet.

Harry opens the driver's side and gets in, locking the doors, which I unlocked. As soon as the doors are unlocked, Harry speeds down the road.

There was no way I could jump out of the car without physically hurting myself. I quickly whirled around to face Harry. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Even though I wasn't sober, I immediately felt sober because I was aware of everything that was going on and who I was with.

My mother's killer

Harry just tightened his jaw, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. "I'm talking to you, Harry." He looks at me as his head turns.

" Just shut up Juliet." I parted my mouth to talk.

"Don't tell me to Shut up. You need to stop being so fucking demanding all the time. Stuff doesn't always go your way, Harry. You need to stop forcing me to do stuff." He shakes his head while driving quickly down the road, swerving cars, and gets honked at every time. "What the hell is your problem?"

Silence

"Slow down." I gritted my teeth, reaching for my seatbelt, which I had yet to put on. "Harry, slow down," I scream even louder, whipping my face in his direction. "I do not want to get into a car accident because of your reckless driving." Surprisingly he listened- only slowing down a bit.

I rolled my eyes, crossed my arms across my chest, and found myself thinking about the note once more.

Harry murdered your mom. and all of a sudden I remember who I was next to. In a car so small that it felt like the air in me was getting trapped in my throat screaming to get out.

I sucked in a breath and placed a hand over my heart trying to stop the way my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. My head pounding like a ticking bomb that would go off any second now.

I tried to concentrate on my breathing letting my eyes flutter softly and taking a deep breath. Trying to control the way my body reacted every time I remembered who I was next to. Normally, whenever I remember sitting next to Harry, I become hot, jumpy, and anxious. But today, none of that was there. I felt angry—scared, upset, and disgusted.

How easy it was for him to kill someone and get away with it. How didn't he leave a single handprint at my house or on his team? Is his team the people he surrounds himself with?

Instead of attempting to contain my anger, I began to worry once more; I hadn't even noticed the car coming to a stop at a mountain. It felt like the car was going to tumble over and off the cliff.

We were basically in the middle of nowhere; there were no surrounding houses or lighting; it was pitch black. The only light I could find came from the moonlight and the city below us.

Harry says nothing to me—he exits the car, and I stay inside for a few minutes. I wiped the tears away and rested my head against the headrest.

I wanted to scream— I wanted to let my anger out. I needed to sob. I hated my skin and myself. I dragged my nails up my arms and leg. The tears ran down my face more quickly while I was attempting to rip off my skin.

I've grown unhappy with myself ever since my mother passed away. with any physical contact, I received and with the way people held me. After exhaling, I wiped my eyes. I felt my skin crawl and I breathed out heavily.