Aggressive and Possessive

Chapter 22

"We need reinforcements. It's essential for them to know we're not fucking around, I want you to send them a message." Harry ordered through the phone, "Isn't his bird pregnant? Good. I want you to use it against him."

I visibly winced within his grasp.

Monster.

I let out an unsteady breath, attempting to shake off his daunting words as he continued to stroke my hair ever so lightly. His touch resembled to a snow flake falling gracefully from the cloudy sky, but I knew his movements could transform into something much more destructible if I were to speak out of order.

"He's a family man, he won't hesitate to work alongside us if he desires to keep them safe. We need all the people we can get to make this work, and I will not accept no for an answer. He'll either work with us or against us; it's black or white, no grey."

His hand then wandered down my shoulder slowly, grazing my skin that momentarily aligned with goose bumps from his feathery touch. I found it absolutely astonishing how he could discuss the death of not only a man's life, but his pregnant girlfriend, while his actions were completely diverse. His fingers were dancing graciously up and down my arm, as he's talking about killing a potential family.

He was always like this. He's always been a monster. Nothing's changed.

"I want this fucking operation done right, so we're going to start small and work our way to the top. I don't want anything to be rushed. I want it all planned out and drafted by me before we strike. The plan's going to be quick and smooth, and we must overlook all of our options and discover what could go wrong, and how we'll wrench our way out of it."

Harry was on his phone discussing some plan of attack - on whom, I'm not entirely sure. He's been private and discrete all morning, leaving me isolated in his bedroom with no one else to talk to but myself.

Since the wallpaper was so thin, I could constantly hear the pleads of Eleanor begging Harry to allow me to see her, but each and every time his reply is a firm 'no'. Only thirty minutes ago he returned to the room - originally just to change his attire - but his phone started beeping, signifying someone was trying to reach him. He answered the phone and situated himself on the bed, beckoning me to lay with him as he chatted away on his mobile.

He was careful not to slip his tongue and not reveal who the topic of conversation was, but I personally held no desire to know.

Sleeping last night was bizarre. After mine and Harry's threatening encounter he wandered outside, leaving me alone in this awful room. I tried to fall asleep after he left, but I was too scared and my mind was buzzing with unanswered questions.

How long is he going to treat me like an animal?

What happened to Jake?

When is he going to set Joanna free?

What happened to Olivia?

"No," Harry snapped abruptly, "There's no way in hell he's going to - what do you mean he's back in town?"

Harry rose from the bed and I awkwardly toppled to the side.

"There's no fucking way - you saw him?!" he roared, the vein in his neck prominent as his skin flourished a deep, red colour. His face twisted in a look of pure disgust, and his breathing was becoming heavy and slow, "He's a fucking dead man if he thinks he can step foot here. This is my town and that means he's going to abide by my rules."

I pressed the base of my palms on the mattress, pushing myself upwards so my back rested against the headboard.

"What do you mean he wants to see her? How does he know who she is in the first place?" His voice was dangerously low as he spoke. "He's not going to step foot in this house. Over my fucking dead body."