The Short Stories of Harry Styles

The Assignment: Part 8

"They can't find us like this Karenna. You have to leave." 

"But why? We're partners. They had to know we'd get close."

"Not like this. Never like this." 

I blinked my eyes open.

Once.

Twice.

It's pitch black and I am now laying on my bed. My head is pounding and my shoulder is screaming at me in pain. 

I know I am not alone in this room, I can feel the air has a current of another life form here, and I glanced around the darkness for the source. 

"Yeah, she's still out like a light. What do you want me to do with her when she wakes up....oh Jesus Christ Harry....You sure? I feel like you need back up on this....alright, alright. Get what we need and get out of there....yeah, bye." 

My mind is plotting. The rope around my wrists are tight but I can get out. 

There is always an escape. 

Suddenly a pain shoots through my head like I have been hit over the head with a hammer. 

"Please Karenna, I'm begging you. Please let this go."

"I can't! How can you ask me that? You feel it too! I know you do. I can see it in your eyes!"

My eyes squint together as the pain continues to throb through my brain. I do not know what I am hearing. If I were to properly diagnose the situation, I'd say I was losing my mind. 

Finally, the pain subsides as I hear a heavy breath.

"Ah, you're awake. Tough little cookie, you are." A tall man, older, roughly in his early 40's is now at eye level with me and is giving me a medical look over. Nothing sexual, only curious. 

"H said you were quite the handful earlier," the man peers at my shoulder and gives it a once over before turning his gaze back to me, "it looks like he cauterized it good for ya. You should be good as new in a few weeks." My eyes focus on his every move but my mind is still shuffling through all of my options. 

"Where is Harry?" I asked quietly, my throat raspy from the strain it had undergone in such a short amount of time. The man looked at me with a small smile.

"Out. Had a meeting." 

"Where."

"None ya business lady." I narrowed my gaze at him. 

In my training, there were ways to get what you wanted. I was not above using torture to get what I wanted. 

"Name's Don, I'll be looking after you for the time being. If you don't need anything, I'm just going to go sit out there and watch some Game of Thrones if you don't mind..." he went to walk away but then glanced over his shoulder at me with a warning heavy in his eyes, "try anything funny and I won't hesitate to give you a matching wound in your other shoulder." 

I smirked. 

He glared. 

Don exited the room and I heard the television turn on. I furiously began shifting my weight so that I could get my arms out from behind my back and in front of myself. I slid my feet up and under my arms so that my wrists were now in front of me and I began chewing at the ropes, pulling and biting wherever necessary to get them undone. 

It took ten seconds. 

Idiots. 

I sat up and the room spun slightly. I must have sustained a concussion at some point.