Aggressive and Possessive

Chapter 23

I give up.

Harry's a monster. Whatever hope I held onto tightly had been let go to vanish into the wind. He was gone; he wasn't the same person anymore. When we used to fight we'd usually fix the problem by now, but nothing's changed. He's still just as angry as he was this morning.

At least, I predict he is. I've yet to see him since I served lunch. I requested his permission for myself to stay in the bedroom, and after slight hesitation, he allowed it. I've been hiding in here since then, occupying myself by playing solo card games. It got boring after a short period of time, but I'd prefer to isolate myself in here, rather than associate with Harry outside. At least in here I was safe.

I had time to think things over.

I was going to work up the courage to convince - or at least beg - Harry to set Joanna free of Zayn's threshold. The only reason she's staying is because she's going to be used as some sort of 'punishment' for my actions, but maybe if I persuade Harry to let her be free - or at least come up with some sort of arrangement - he'll release her from Zayn's grasp.

Maybe if I get Eleanor to help me, we might come up with something together. It could work.

"F-Faye... Faye!"

My name was being shouted from the top of Harry's lungs, but I failed to detect a trace of anger or frustration within his tone. If anything, his speech was slurred.

I moved off the bed - ignoring the cards I laid out on the bed - and cautiously walked towards the closed door, still hearing my name being called from behind the wood.

"Faye... Faye baby, come here!" he whined.

Is Harry drunk?

I opened the door and peered down the hall, seeing Harry sitting on one of the recliners with a beer in his hand. His eyes were shut tightly as he head was rolled back, his mouth parted as he continued to shout my name, "Faye! C'mere darlin'!"

I knew if he were in the correct state of mind he'd be more demanding, and greatly pissed because I failed to follow orders right away. I'm not sure I want to go to him at the moment. I've never seen Harry fully intoxicated before; when he took me to my first club he had a beer or two, but that was the full extent of it.

"Faye, if you don't come to me right this instant -"

"I'm c-coming," I shouted from the doorway, my mouth speaking before my mind had time to register. Idiot.

His head shot up at the closeness of my voice, and he turned to look at with me a lop-sided grin. A dimple formed at the curve of his lip, and I swear it was deeper and darker than a black hole. His free hand that rested on his knee lifted to his thighs, and he began patting softly, still smiling at me.

"Sit here, baby," he cooed softly, his voice sounding throaty from how low he was speaking. He was so quiet, and slightly hushed, as if he were attempting to pat an injured kitten by gaining it's trust. "C'mon, I promise I won't do anything."

I didn't trust him.

He was so sweet in the kitchen. He completely threw me off guard with his words; I couldn't comprehend how a combination of letters filled me with such joy and glee, only for the moment to be shattered into a thousand pieces.

He almost had me.

"Don't make me come and get you, kitten." He warned from the recliner, "Remember, you're injured."

Immediately I frowned at him emphasizing my weakness.

His lips morphed into a cheeky grin, "Aw, c'mon love, don't be like that."