cherry (h.s)

ten

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—

Charlotte Thompson

"If you ever try to pull anything like that again I'll have you killed. You don't know the people that I know. They don't care about who you are or where you come from. If they're asked to kill someone, they do it." Harry threatens as we walk through the front door, returning from the unpleasant visit to my parents house.

I'm learning that Harry's threats are mostly empty. Sure, he'll terrorize me with a knife every so often, but he won't go through with killing me. I don't know why, but he won't.

I have a weird feeling, like there's something going on that I don't know about. Something is telling me that this is much deeper than him just taking me to use me as a 'maid'.

Or maybe I've been here way too long and I'm starting to lose my mind and make up theories to fill the void.

I just walk away from him, back up to my room because it was almost six in the morning and I haven't gotten any sleep.

But I can hear him following me up the stairs.

Maybe he's just heading to his bedroom.

I turn down the hall and open the door to my room. I walk in and sit down on my bed, sighing out of exhaustion.

I was about to flop onto the quilted mattress and just pass out, but instead I was stopped by my door opening.

Harry stood in my doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"What do you want?" I shake my head and ask in annoyance.

"You really think I'm gonna leave you alone after what you just pulled?" he says, now walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

I let out a huff and thread my hands through my roots out of frustration. "I'm not gonna do it again, Harry. I told you I just don't have it in me."

He shrugs, nonchalantly pouting his bottom lip. "Don't care. You tried once, you'll try again as far as I'm concerned."

God, he makes me so mad. Why did I have to be kidnapped by a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch who won't leave me alone.

"So, what, you're gonna watch me sleep in here?" I question, sitting impatiently on the edge of my bed.

"See, I could do that..." he starts, pacing around the front of my bed until he stops right in front of me, looking down. "...or I could take the right precautions to make sure we both get to sleep."

I was confused, but then I saw his hand fish into his track-pant pocket and pull out something shiny and metal.

I widen my eyes, realizing they were handcuffs.