asset [h.s.]

thirty eight // maybe, maybe not

Alicia

I don't know how long I've been hiding under this bed, but the gunshots and shouting seems to be going on forever, and I've dug my nails in so hard to the flesh of my hand that I think it's starting to draw blood. It feels like time has completely stopped as I stay hidden in the darkness, feeling my heart pounding against the carpet I'm laying on. The room itself is deathly silent, the kind of silence that makes you think you might actually go insane if it goes on for too long, the throbbing of my own pulse in my ears the only sound I can hear.

However, the serenity of the silence is suddenly broken when I hear the door of the hotel room being forced open, wincing when I hear the cabinet that I wedged against it crashing down onto the floor, knowing they've demolished the only security and protection I could give myself in the short amount of time. I'm so distracted with the fact that they're coming for me and are only a few feet away when I remember Harry. If they've managed to get in here, that means they've got past Harry.

And I can only think of one brutal and completely heart-wrenching way they could've possibly achieved that.

I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts, not allowing my mind to wander to that type of dark place. He must be here somewhere. He has to be.

He said YOU would get out of here, my subconscious reminds me mockingly. Never said anything about him.

I feel tears prick at my eyes but I furiously blink them back, not allowing myself to cry. Out of everything that's happened up to this point and all the jobs he's had to do before, I don't think Harry would fail at this. Surely he's survived worse than this? But I suppose if you have the type of job Harry has, you can only dodge bullets a certain amount of times before the inevitable comes along.

"Where are you, little girl?" A voice suddenly coos and I clench my fists together. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

I jump a little every time I hear something being broken or opened from them searching, listening with immense fear running through my veins as they literally tear the room apart looking for me. The fear is slowly eroding the strong and brave exterior I've tried so hard to embrace, making me just want to cry and scream until I can't anymore. My stomach feels as if it's contorting in ways I never knew possible, and my breathing is erratic and desperate, like I'm getting smothered and trying to gain as much air as I can. 

"Where the fuck is she?" I hear another voice say, different from the other one, and it's enough to make my heart completely sink in my chest.

Two men dead, two men still alive. Harry wouldn't only kill half of who he was supposed to, he wouldn't complete half a job. And that's the only confirmation I need for my earlier theory, the only thing that makes my heart feel like it's breaking all over again.

He really is dead.

"I don't know. She couldn't have gotten away that quick," The first voice replies, sounding closer now. "I'll look in here."

The bedroom door is kicked open and I freeze, holding my breath as soon as I spot a pair of heavy looking, black boots step into the room, leaving dirty prints on the cream carpet. I watch in horror as the feet walk out of my line of vision, hearing the closet being pulled open and I'm thankful that I decided against hiding there. I try to stay as quiet as I can as the footsteps make their way around the whole room, listening as the man searches every singe possible place I could be. When the boots get closer to the bed, I clamp my hands over my mouth to insure I stay silent.