009

         His eyes watched me carefully as I exited the bathroom of the McDonald's we had stopped at on the way to the airport. I had an indescribable urge to use the restroom, and luckily he felt a little generous at the hour.

        I also threatened to piss in the car.

        He looked bored the second we met eyes. The way he treats me makes me feel bad, but I am a little sensitive, I guess. I can't pretend that nothing bothers me.

        "Let's go." He murmured.

        My hands were tucked into the pocket of my shorts as we made our way into the parking lot. I was afraid to ask him to buy me McDonald's, since the airplane food must be horrible. I'm afraid that will have to do, however.

       The drive to the airport was quiet and lonely. I felt as if a ghost was driving the car, and I had been it's company. A day's twenty four hours felt like a year's three hundred sixty five days with Harry.

        I wondered what Sicily would have in store for us. My father is currently there and so is my sister. I get to see her once more after a few months. She tends to hate everyone now because she's not granted freedom like most teenagers.

        There was an itch inside my bra, and in an attempt to cease it I went to scratch it. Inevitably having my hand inside my bra for a few seconds. Harry had remained seated as I tried to readjust my bra.

        I laughed a little at him when he had glanced at me only to find my hand down my shirt. He didn't find it amusing at all, and ended up using both of his hands to steer, his knuckles white from his intensive hold.

       "Harry, what's the first thing we have to do when we get to Sicily?" I asked him, interested as to where this investigation is going. They're obviously clueless as to the intentions of the enemy, and just like them I want to know the whats and the whys.

        He sighed heavily, moving his head from side to side, attempting to stretch the muscles in his neck.

        Like expected, he gave me no answer.

        "It seems to me that you'll probably immediately discuss the incidents with my father right?"

        "Catalina, shut up before I tape your mouth closed."

        "I don't see how you'll get tape." I remarked.

        "You're not helping yourself right now." He warned coldly.

        "I want answers, Harry." I persisted.

        Harry grunted in frustration, rubbing his thumb across his nostrils and pressing his plump, pink lips into a thin line. "Do me a favor, Dollface. Keep that mouth of yours closed or I'll stop this car and toss you into the fucking trunk."

        I turned green at his words. "W-what?" I stammered. Of the words Harry has said to me nothing has been more threateningly horrifying. There was no questioning the amount of will and motivation he had at this point. Harry was driven by a determination rare to mankind nowadays. He made a statement, but in his words it was a purely cold fact.

        "You seem surprised." He retorted. "I wouldn't dare to question what I'm capable of, Catalina. So keep the lips closed. Or you'll regret it."

        God, he makes me so bone - rattlingly crazy. So narrowed eyed with anger that all I see is red through the frustration blinding me. I am driven to fear as he stares me down with the beautiful green in his irises.

        He makes no movement, but only stares as to question my obedience. I hate how he can manipulate my emotions. He takes control of me easier than one can only feel as a freed man, nearly a slave.

        But I don't rebel against this. I choose to sit back and avoid his eye contact. Turning my cheek and focusing on the road to the side.

        When we arrive at the airport, Harry looks for a man in black pants, black button up, and black hair neatly combed back. He is dressed much like everyone else in my father's organization. 

        "One, six, eight, eight, four, eleven, nine, five," Harry muttered to the olive skinned stranger in front of us. The code was strictly classified and rarely used only on occasions just like these. It was used to aware people who was with us.

        "Styles." The man nodded, his eyes barely glancing at me when he turned around and lead us through a different gate. They didn't even check my bags or the clothes we're currently wearing. It must be another way my father has slithered through the cracks of every government, publically issued ground.

        The gate was isolated as we passed through. It lead to a private jet. My father would be one to own such luxuries. I hadn't had the slightest doubt of his taste ever being anything less than perfection.

        I sat cozily in a chair that was screwed into the rug floor beneath our feet. My feet were pressed into my chest as I hugged my legs with my arms.

        I watched Harry sit down, only to seconds later get up and walk to the bathroom. He effortlessly shut the door and came out moments later, his black boxers in few just as he zipped up his pants, buttoning them as I feverishly looked away. Angry that I saw that and I was stupid enough to see it.

        He rubbed his jaw in stress as he sat down on a leather chair, bringing a laptop from a bag the man flying our plane had brought to him earlier. Harry rubbed his eyes and began to play with the ring on his lip, focused on the bright screen before him.

        "You should sleep, you know." I told him after thirty minutes.

        To my surprise, he looked up from his area of attention and locked eyes with me. Outside the sun was beginning to set. A pink orange glow played around us.

        "I have things to do. You sleep."

        "All I've done is just that. I think it would be good if you rested before you tried to get through everything."

        Harry did seem reluctant. He wasn't glad for it, but he intended on doing it because exhaustion was winning the game now.

        He stared at me with his eyes slightly narrowed. "Don't pull anything."

        "I won't." Is all I said.

        Three hours later I was staring off to the ceiling in a blanket wrapped around my body to give me warmth in this cool air inside. Harry had been dozed off on the couch with his lips firmly pressed together and his arms crossed over his chest. The man slept angry, too.

        I began to let my eyes wander around the plane. There wasn't much to look at except for when I peeked at the laptop he had closed. It wasn't a good idea to look through it, and if anything he'd probably have a password on it.

        Sighing heavily, I headed to the bathroom to at least wipe my face with water and have a change of clothes. I looked through my bags, choosing a grey hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants.

        In the bathroom, I peered at myself in the mirror -- horrified by the frizz my hair took on these past few days. I combed through it with the stuff I brought with me and made sure to put some hair cream in it to at least reduce the frizz.

        I washed my face and began to remove my clothes. I peeled off my shirt just as I heard Harry yell, "Catalina!"

        The door flew open and I screamed and fumbled to toss anything at my chest to conceal my pink bra from him.

        Heat surfaced as a red color on my skin. I gasped and shouted, "Can't you knock?!"

        "Drop it." He gnarled angrily. I wondered what's up with him now.

        I frowned. "Drop what?"

        Harry pushed in closer to me, the door shutting behind him. As these tiny details remained useless in my defense, his eyes burned into mine with a passionate urge to find what he wants. And I don't know what that is.

       I took a step back, feeling a shaky breath overtake my pulse.

         "Stop with the fucking act! Where's your phone! Who did you call!?" He roared angrily.

       Baffled, I began to feel miniscule against his fiery gaze. His cruel stance and character made my eyes burn with small tears that were meant out of innocence to his accusation.

        "What call? I didn't make a call! I don't even have a phone." I exclaimed rapidly.

        He inhaled. "Save your shit. Give me the phone Catalina or I swear I'll rip your clothes shirt by shirt to find it."

         My lips parted as I tried find words to speak. Only a gasp flew through my mouth when Harry’s body forced mine against the wall. I stood on edge, feeling his chest against my arms that I held up to mine.

        I screamed. "Please, stop!"

        "I'm not going to hurt you." Harry spat. I sniffled just as his hand grabbed my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my fragile bone so tightly even that was going to bring me to the brink of tears.

        "I'm not going to ask again. Did you make a phone call?" He spit through a clenched jaw. I could barely hold the eye contact.

        I looked at the floor, feeling overwhelmed. "No. I don't even have my phone," I cracked out, my voice thick with emotion. It sounded as if I was ready to shake the plane with sobs .

        "Don't fucking cry. Look at me, Catalina. Look. At. Me." Harry saw that I refused to oblige. He then took his other hand and grabbed my chin, pulling my face up to force my eyes to see the anger in his. It was so fast and breath taking. All of this. The one sensation that was constant was fear and the way his breath fanned against my skin.

         I gulped. "I didn't make a phone call."

        "Why are you crying then?"

        I stared up in slight annoyance that he can't see how fucked up he is with me. I raised my hand to wipe a tear, angrily pushing off his grip on my chin. He glared when I did so.

        "Because you're being so rough with me. You can't treat me like this. You're hurting my wrist," I twisted my wrist that was in his grip, a red mark circling the flesh now. He let go, his eyebrows furrowing. "And I can't trust you even though you say I have to. I know I said I did. But that's before I knew how twisted you treat me. You said you wouldn't hurt me but that's what you did."

        He sighed heavily. "I was angry with you. I received a text that someone had made a phone call with your phone. It just pissed me off. Okay? My last Intentions were to hurt you." He explained firmly.

        "Gives you no right to touch me," I persisted, furrowing my eyebrows at him.

        "I can touch you whenever I want. Wherever I want. Your father has given me permission to use force with you."

        I sniffled again. "I won't let you."

        Harry watched me carefully. "Wipe the tears off your face." He slowly said later on after watching me for a few seconds. "And put a shirt on."

        I did so just as he took a step back. "I don't want you to protect me anymore. I'm telling my father I want someone else to."

        "Guess what?" He murmured, watching me with little regret for his actions. "Nobody will want to protect you. Your their boss's daughter. No man in that mafia would want to take on the job of protecting the man's most prized possession." He seethed.

        "I hate you so much."

        Harry hadn't hesitated for a second as he was back against my body, his face inches away from mine. "Be careful of what comes out from those pretty lips, Dollface." He whispered to me, looking dead into my eyes. "I chose to risk my life for you. That is my job now. As much as we both hate it, this is how it is."

        "I can't --" I began, wanting to sob again.

        "Shut it," he hissed, his index finger grazing my left collarbone rather slowly. I almost shuddered. "You're so fucking gorgeous. Incredibly sexy. A man wouldn't want to be charged for failing to keep his hands off you."

        My throat dried. "W-what?"

        "What?" He asked mockingly. "You drive me absolutely insane with want and hatred. I want to shoot you, but my hands want to hold your hips while I make you mine from behind. Fuck, the world doesn't need an asshole like me, so why don't I do what I want with you?"

        I stared with shock. "Why?" I had the guts to ask.

        His hand made me feel uncomfortable as it trailed up my bare waist. "Because I have to protect you," he answered quietly. "Strictly kept to only one sole purpose. To keep you safe."

        Harry saw my lack of speech left in me.

        "And this is the only way to make sure it'd get through your head. By expressing my desire, my hunger to have your soft little voice mewling to me how you just can't take it. How you'd tell me you can't and I'll say I know, baby. I know because I can feel it, too. But I can't indulge in the pleasures. My purpose is for your safety. And if I did such things, I'd betray your father's trust. I am a man of my word." He finished.

        I didn't say anything. Nothing could make it out of my mouth. Harry's fingertips grazed the side of my pink lace bra. I whimpered and moved away from his touch. He made me feel threatened more than ever now.

        "Why are you like this?" I asked him shakily. 

        He shrugged, pulling my hips to his. I shrieked, but he shushed me with a small shh and shook his head. He had me drawn into him now. Sexually. At first it was his silence, and now it was his lustful admiration.

        "I will never put myself first. I'm showing you my level of self control. It will take a lifetime until that patience wears thin. I will never fulfill my wants with you, and what a pleasure it would be to see you on my bed, wrapped up in my sheets all fucked and pretty."

        I gasped when he leant forward, his lips barely brushing over mine. "You need to understand, baby, that as long as you are in my sight, everything I'm doing is to keep you safe."

         I shut my eyes, closing them to rid the image of his bare body hovering over mine, my legs spread as he pounded into me onto his bed. Sweat dripping off his forehead, a layer of my own presparation across my chest. But closing my eyes only enhanced the image, and made the feelings unbearably strong.

        "I-I thought you didn't like me..." I trailed off, stuttering.

        "I don't. I just...my body wants yours and I can't fucking do that. I can't have your sweet scent on my sheets or the taste of your hot skin on my lips. It is betrayal and inappropriate of me." He breathed, our lips almost touching.  His hands spread against the wall on either side of my head, his dipped down to see me. "Oh fuck, how I need to be inside of you. Making you feel right. It's insanity. I just won't let it happen. I can't for the sake of both of us."

        I inhaled sharply. "Make me feel right." I blurted out, immediately regretting it.

        He growled, shaking his head and his reaction causing me to open my eyes and look at him. "You're too curious of me. You want to know me, but it won't get you anywhere. My patience has never been tested so harshly before and I hate your beauty and your want to know me for it."

        "Harry, you shouldn't have told me this." This just wasn't good. This was horrible, in fact.

        Harry sighed heavily. "I know. Maybe there was another way to make you understand. But you said I was too rough. That I mistreated you and that you didn't want me to be your protector anymore. And I thought the only way to make you understand what the fuck I'm trying to do is this way. That I'm going against my selfish wants to keep you under my care."

        "I'm not a nice man. I never was. Never will be." He said.

      Note // some of you wanted to know why it was called "mature" so you'll get the point later if not already