Freed

Six

I can't believe the guy; he was actually going to speak in that manner in front of a four year old. I want to spit at myself when I think about the fact that I actually had feelings toward him once upon a time. Harry's eyebrow flies up at my comment, and he turns his gaze towards Heather.

"You should really train your staff better," he says. "They're quite rude." I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"Well, guess what, Harry? I'm not the one who grabs people from their throats, and shoves them around." I tilt my head to the side, and offer him a smile. "But then how will you remember that one day? After all, manhandling people, abusing them is all part of your daily routine."

Harry's jaw tightens, as he takes in my words.

"At least I don't take innocent lives." I clench my fist beside me, and take a deep breath. If this room wasn't filled with children, I'd end up showering Harry with profanities, and punches.

"Mus!" I turn my head towards the left to find Ashley rushing over towards us. Once she's at arm's length, she embraces me tightly, as if we're long lost best friends. I push away from her body, the scent of her perfume drawing out sneezes.

"Girl, it has been a long time." Ashley announces, making sure everyone in the room hears it. I knit my eyebrows together, offering her a confused smile.

"Ashley, we barely knew each other and in the time that I did get acquainted with you, you came off as quite a fat bitch." I comment snidely, wiping the smile off of Ashley's face.

"Speak to her with respect, she's my wife." Harry comes to his bitch's defense immediately. To be honest, I'm taken aback by his reaction. Ashley beams at Harry proudly, as if he's her loyal pet, who has bitten an attacker. I tilt my head to the side.

"Progress," I smirk. "Last I saw you two, you were just physical buddies." Harry steps forward, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. I'm waiting for some kind of a reaction - for some kind of physical action.

Whenever I saw shit about him on television, I don't know, I could never really bring myself to believe that he was at fault for all that crap. In some way or the other, I wanted to believe that this man was being framed. However, meeting him now after years, I can tell that all the news was real and he has truly become a full fledged monster.

"Hit me," I challenge, narrowing my eyes at him. "I dare you to. After all, that is the only way you can exert control."

"Hey, babe!" Dean's voice echoes around the room. He comes over to my side, and wraps his arm around my shoulders, leaning in and kissing my forehead. Harry's eyes focus on Dean. I lean into his side, and smile up at him.

"Hiya," I say. "Early as always?" Dean grins, and winks at me.

"Shall we go? I've got a reservation at your favorite place, Patio." God, I love this about Dean. No matter what's going on around us, he always focuses on us, and creates a bubble around us. A bubble that I'm quite comfortable in.

"Yeah, let's." I say, allowing him to steer me away from the cause of my headache. I don't need to turn around to see whether or not Harry is staring at me, because I can feel his eyes.

"Things were getting pretty heated back there." Dean whispers, leaning into my ear. "Old flame?"

"Something like that," I mumble. "The biggest mistake of my life more like it, actually."

"Won't ask questions, won't care. Got it," Dean blows underneath my earlobe. I give him an odd sideways look. "Honey, gotta make the guy regret what a great woman he gave up on." I smirk, leaning into Dean further. His hand snakes down my back, and towards my ass.

"By the way, I thought we were dining at home." I say, as we step out and into the compound. Dean shrugs his shoulders.

"A restaurant sounds more date-ish, than eating at home." He explains. I pout, letting out a bark of laughter.

"So you're telling me we don't even have reservations?" I raise my eyebrows questioningly. Dean offers me an innocent smile.

"You can flirt with the waiter. Now lets go," Dean wraps his arm around mine and tugs me toward his car. Once we're in the car, I begin to play around with the music and that's when my eyes travel towards the entrance of the auditorium. A figure is standing there, his head turned in our direction. However, Heather has forgotten to turn on the lights, and all I can see is a silhouette, but I'm quite sure it's him.
*******

"So I'm making a band. Wanna join?" Dean asks, as we take our seats. Eyes trained on the menu, I nod my head.

"Sure, you know I rock at the piano." I say, already making up my mind on what shall ease the monster in my stomach tonight. Once I've decided, I keep the menu down and glance around the restaurant. This place is truly like a second home to me, and I bet everyone - including the sous chefs - know our names. Dean gestures for the waiter, and places our order. He doesn't even have to ask me, because we eat the same dishes on the same days.

Dean begins a conversation regarding the band, while I people watch. The entrance door opens, and in walk two bodyguards. I furrow my brows, wondering who could possibly be that posh. The guards move to the side, and Harry steps forward, accompanied by Ashley. I frown, my hand gripping the edge of the table. What the fuck are they doing here?

Harry's eyes move around the restaurant, until they land on me, and then the dick smirks. He actually has the fucking audacity to smirk! Dean's hand clamps over mine, and he squeezes it tightly.

"What the fuck is the hottie doing in here?" Dean asks. I glare at him.

"Dean, you're my fucking friend, and Harry isn't your new venture. Capiche?" I say, raising my eyebrows. Pursing his lips, my best friend nods and makes a fist with his free hand.

"Sisters before misters, eh?" I nod, letting out a bark of laughter. "By the way, I still wanna make Mr. Hot Pants jealous, so please let me." Dramatically, I let out a sigh and nod my head, even though internally I'm so down with this idea. "First of all, I need to bring my chair beside you."

"You're not touching me," I warn. Dean makes a face at me, and gets up, pulling his chair up beside me. He places one hand on my upper thigh, and cups my cheek with the other.

"Honey, I've seen your tits, so shut up and lemme feel you up." Dean says, when he sees me cringe a bit at the close contact. God, I love this guy.