Chapter 9
Dom
The look on Harry's face when I opened the door told me he knew.
I'd never seen so much fury in his eyes.
He was panting heavily, his hair dishevelled, his muscles stiff, hand shaking as he held it out, glaring at me.
"Give it to me," he growled as he pushed himself into my flat, forcing me backwards and slamming the door behind him.
"Give you what?" I tilted my head to the side, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"The phone, Dom. Give me the fucking phone!"
I could have played dumb and told him I’d never do something like that. But I wouldn’t have lasted five seconds when he looked broken.
And was there any point in lying anymore?
I swallowed my sigh of resignation and reached into my pocket. There it was, the dreaded moment I’d been waiting for.
The colour drained from his face as I pulled his fiancée's phone from my pocket and placed it in his palm.
Every emotion was clear on his face, visible by the squeezing and relaxing of his hand around it, the crease of his brow, his mouth dropping before tightening into a thin line.
The worst was how Harry’s eyes widened in shock before shuttering closed slowly as he drew in a ragged breath, as if he’d resigned himself to it as well.
When he opened them to meet mine, he was bursting with rage.
There was no warning as he raised his fist and slammed it into my left cheek. Pain exploded through my jaw, my head snapping to the side, my right eye tearing up at the strength of his punch.
I turned back to him, lifting my hand to my cheek, hearing his shuddering breaths.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snarled.
I was glad it wasn't up to me. If I’d had to decide the time and place and watch the smile fall from his face as I revealed the truth, I might never have come back from it. But I only got his anger and the agony I was sure hummed in us both.
"Why the fuck would you do this?” His voice trembled through his fury.
“What the hell was running through your mind when you did this?
Did you even fucking think? Or was this just another one of your stupid games?
Let's see how far I can push Harry before he realises what's going on?
Was this some kind of joke for you?" Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he panted.
He stood, his body hard, shivering, rasping with every word.
I held back my groan, another stab of pain shooting straight into my stomach. I thought I could do it, but, standing there, watching him vanish before my eyes, it was too much. I couldn’t take it. I needed him back.
"Harry…" I said.
"No," he said, gathering himself with a deep, shuddering breath before turning back to me.
"Dom, you…” his voice cracked. “Why would you do this to me?
We've been through so much together. I thought we were fucking friends. How could you…?” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, barely controlling himself.
“I couldn't even imagine anyone doing this to another person, so why would you do this to me? You just… this is so fucked up."
I wanted to say it. I wanted it to burst out of me, finally tell him how I felt.
Then I could get it over with and watch him crash as another layer of myself was revealed.
Because there was no way I was winning. Not a chance.
The crack in my heart was swallowing me, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.
"I trusted you.” He wavered, his eyes dropping from mine as he shook. “I trusted you with everything and you – what? Used to me to get off? Or just wanted to fuck me over? Why would you do something like this? To me? Of all people?"
And that was when I snapped. I should have stopped, given him space, but I was so fucking selfish that I needed to hold him. He didn't have time to react as I reached for him, cupping his head, burying my fingers in his hair as I slammed my mouth to his and took what I wanted.
His lips were as soft as I remembered, his beard scratching against mine.
He froze under my hands as I pushed his back to the door, stiff as I pressed myself against his body to show him how much I had been craving him, how I needed to touch him so badly that I had gone to fucked up lengths just to make him see that.
I thought he would kiss me back, that he would respond to me like he had before.
Instead, he cried out, a wonderful sound of anger that ripped from him and burned through my throat. His mouth moved, but only for his teeth to find my bottom lip and tear at me.
I yank my head back at the sharp sting of the cut.
Harry lifted both hands, the phone still in his left, and shoved against my chest.
I didn't step back, but I released him, numbness scattering through my palms.
Panting, glaring, longing, needing. It all mixed between us and around us, and I let go. Everything I had been holding back, failing to control myself, barely able to stop so I didn’t become the person I was always meant to be, it all rose to the surface.
"You want to know why?" I asked coarsely, my thumb travelling to my lips, pressing it against the small line of blood swelling along it. I met his shocked expression with all the darkness that had plagued me for weeks.
"It's because I love you, you idiot."