Chapter Nineteen

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Harry

I was gritting my teeth and wincing in absolute agony as Tom drove the winding, bumpy roads to this apparent safe-house Harvey had promised us. Ethan kept eyeing me out of the corner of his eye and when he wasn't looking so damned concerned, he was glaring at Harvey, baiting him to make any sudden moves.

I wanted to cry when Harvey instructed Tom to turn off of this already tumultuous road onto an even shabbier one. I had most definitely broken a rib – maybe two. I could see Tom was trying to drive as carefully as possible but his attempts were futile. I would still be in agony even if I was in the comfiest bed in the world right now. My energy seemed to have become non-existent since we started driving. I was assuming the initial adrenaline at getting out of Hugh's house as fast as possible had been very short term.

My head was resting against Ethan's shoulders in an act of comfort but to be frank, it was the most uncomfortable position I could be in right now. The pressure in my chest was relentless and my shot arm was in agony.

I knew that the comfort wasn't for me, though. He had just watched me die and come back to life. He was the one who needed this physical, reassuring contact.

I had thought I would feel more badass about rising from the dead like Jesus or the zombies in The Walking Dead. But I was being a wimp – the pain was overbearing. I could be badass tomorrow.

"Welcome home, boys!" Harvey cried as we left the brambles and mess of trees and arrived onto the grounds of fucking Downton Abbey.

The house was huge – it wasn't even a house, it could have been a hotel. It had old stone walls that gave it character and ivy climbing towards the roof. The grounds were manicured and magnificent. Where the holy fuck were we?

I tried to sit up to get a better view of the place but a hiss escaped my mouth at the movement. My limbs seemed to have gotten heavier too – my neck was like lead.

"We need to get him some medical attention," Ethan instructed in a no-nonsense tone, not acknowledging where we were.

"Relax Ethan – I'm fine," I lied. Wow – I never realised how much energy I needed to talk. You never appreciate the given things in life until it's made ten times harder to do. I always dream of the good old days whenever I have colds. Blocked noses make you appreciate your life with your perfectly unblocked nose, able to smell and taste everything.

My mind was wandering – where had I been going with this? I was beginning to notice a stabbing pain at the back of my head, too. I was choosing to ignore it, though. Ethan was worried enough as it was. I would say it quietly to the doctor when I got there.

I knew myself that I was a drama-queen at the simplest of injuries. I craved the attention and milked every ounce of sympathy and help from people. That was because I knew that there was nothing to truly worry about. It was just a bit of fun – always the joker.

But when I was truly injured – when Ethan got that look in his eye – I felt compelled to hide it. I didn't want to worry him and I didn't want to worry myself. My tactics were going against me though. He knew that the quietness meant I was hurting. The lack of jokes meant my mind was screaming.

"Like hell you're fine," Ethan growled, easing me off of his shoulder gently.

"I'll get a wheelchair to the car pronto – don't fret!" Harvey said dramatically, running from the car and up the steps to the grand entrance of this super-mansion.

"This place is a nice change from the shithole we've been living in the past few months, eh Ethan?" I tried to joke lamely, my laugh falling flat at the stabbing in my chest. Jesus, who would have known that ribs were motherfuckers when they wanted to be?

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