The Deal (English)

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

*Olivia Harper*

I walked out of the store with two ice cream tubs in a bag. I figured if I picked Harry up right now, we could go home and binge on ice cream right before dinner. It seemed silly, because we would end up filling our stomachs with just that, leaving no space for dinner. But I was okay with that, and I figured Harry was too.

As I was walking to my car, I spotted three guys laughing. I was about to look away, when I realized one of them was Dylan.

Oh great, I thought to myself. I was going to have to face this asshole again.

I lowered my head, hoping they wouldn’t notice it was me, and acted like I hadn’t seen them. When they neared me, I could hear what they were saying.

“…and he’s finally going to leave her alone.” Dylan was saying.

“How can you be so sure, man?” the other guy asked.

“Dude, did you see the way I beat him up?” Dylan asked. “If he has any brains, he won’t touch Olivia again.”

I stopped mid-step, and my heart lurched. I’d heard my name in their conversation, and I’d also heard something about beating someone up. My mind immediately raced to one name, but I didn’t even want to think about it.

“Dylan, man, we just left him lying in the alley like that…”

“Let him rot there. Let him die,” Dylan spat. “Once he’s gone, Olivia won’t care anyway.”

I was almost certain they were talking about Harry now. Who else would they beat up to threaten them to stay away from me?

Dylan and his friends walked by me, and thankfully, they hadn’t seen or noticed me. The moment they were a safe distance away, I rushed to the alley I’d seen them coming from.

I could see a crouching figure next to the bins, and with every step I took towards it, Harry’s shape was becoming more evident. Please don’t be Harry, please don’t be Harry…

But it was. Because when I was near enough to see properly who it was, I instantly recognized the curls, though they were messed up, and a few strands stuck to his forehead with blood. His face was bruised, and his beautiful green eyes were shut as he lay still against the wall.

“Harry!” I cried, and ran towards him. I crouched down next to him, setting the bag of ice cream on the ground. “Harry?”

I pulled him onto me, his head falling against my chest. “Harry, open your eyes, you idiot.” I said desperately, shaking his shoulder and patting his cheek. “Come on, come on. HARRY!” Panic coursed through my veins as Harry continued to lie limp against me. Tears pricked the back of my eyes and I gritted my teeth, my attempts to wake him up becoming more frantic.

“Harry, open your motherfucking eyes,” I sobbed. “Harry. Harry!”

To my immense relief, a slight groan escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered open, even if only a little. There was blood dripping down his chin, and I wiped it away with my thumb.

“Harry?” I asked softly. “Dude?”

Harry groaned again and made an effort to speak. Finally, he let out a strange noise which bordered on a chuckle. “Hey,” he breathed, and I sighed. “Hurting…my…shoulder…”

I immediately released my grip on his shoulder, and sighed, relieved. “Thank God.” I said. “I thought you died.”

“Feel…d-dead.” He mumbled. “Stop…crying.”