Undone

Amara Reed

The air was different this time. Thicker. Charged. It clung to my skin, seeping into my lungs with every shallow breath. It wasn't just tension; it was a warning.

The dim light overhead flickered, casting jagged shadows against the walls. The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke and something metallic—blood, maybe, or the remnants of whatever deal had gone south in this place before I got here. The chair beneath me was cold, the rough wood biting into my back. I wasn't restrained anymore, but the ache in my wrists from the earlier bindings still lingered, a ghost of captivity refusing to fade.

Harry stood before me, fists clenched so tightly that I swore I could hear his knuckles crack. His whole body vibrated with restrained fury, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths as if he was trying to keep himself from detonating on the spot. His eyes burned into me, dark and unreadable.

His phone rang.

Once.

He ignored it, his eyes locked onto mine, sharp as cut glass.

Twice.

His jaw twitched, but he didn't move.

Three times.

With a snarl, he yanked the phone from his pocket and answered. "What?"

Silence from my end. But I saw the shift immediately. The way his fingers tightened around the device, his expression darkening like a gathering storm. His entire frame went rigid, his knuckles turning white against the black of his phone.

"There's no Armando?" His voice was a whisper of a blade unsheathing—quiet, but lethal.

A pit opened in my stomach.

A pause. His breath hitched, sharp, controlled. "Are you sure?" Another silence, and then, "No. I'll handle it."

The call ended, and when he looked at me again, his eyes were cold, cutting through me like steel.

"You lied to me."

I swallowed hard, but I refused to look away. If I showed weakness now, it was over.

"I did what I had to do," I said, steady, measured.

Harry let out a short, bitter laugh—one with no humor, only sharp edges. He took a step closer, and for a second, I braced myself for impact. But he didn't touch me. He didn't have to. His glare alone carved into me like a blade.

"There was no Armando," he said, his voice low and seething. "Matteo's men tore through half the Bronx looking for him. Nothing. Because he. Doesn't. Exist."

I kept my face still, my pulse thundering in my ears. "I needed time."

"Time?" His fury erupted, bouncing off the walls. "You threw me into the middle of this nightmare for time?"

I instinctively took a step back, but the chair behind me stopped me cold. "And yet, you're still here."

His nostrils flared. He turned away, running a hand over the back of his neck, fingers digging into his skin like he was trying to physically restrain himself. But it didn't last. He spun back, his glare fierce enough to set fire to the room.

"Do you have any idea what Matteo's going to do when he figures this out?"

Of course I did. I had been preparing for it since the moment I spun the lie.

"That's why we need to leave. Now."

His gaze narrowed. "We?"

I inhaled, slow, deep, steadying my hammering heart. "You think Matteo will trust you after this? You led his men on a ghost hunt. He'll think you were in on it. That you helped me."

Harry's face darkened, his fury rolling off him in waves. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm right."

He exhaled sharply, running his tongue over his teeth as he paced, his movements tight, erratic, like a caged animal searching for a way out. I could see it—his mind running through every outcome, every risk.

"I'm not going with you," he finally said, voice tight.

I blinked. "Harry, you don't have a choice."

"Like hell I don't." His eyes burned with defiance. "You got yourself into this mess. I'm not running away because of your lies."

I stepped forward. "You think Matteo will let you off the hook? You were the one leading them on a wild chase. He'll blame you, too."

Harry scoffed. "You truly think that he wouldn't believe one of his most loyal men. I can explain what you did."

I shook my head. "No, you can't. Matteo doesn't do second chances, and you know it. This one slip up has set you back so far from him trusting you ever again. You stay, you die."

His jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might crack a tooth. "Damn it, Amara."

"Damn me later," I shot back. "Right now, you have two options: come with me, or wait here to see how forgiving Matteo really is."

His pacing stopped.

A long silence stretched between us, thick with the weight of the inevitable. Then, finally, he let out a sharp breath and nodded.

"Fine," he growled. "But if you screw me over again, I'll make sure Matteo's the least of your problems."

Relief surged through me, but I kept my expression even. I just nodded, stepping toward him, toward the only way out.

Harry pulled a gun from the holster at his waist and jerked his head toward the door. "Stay close. Don't do anything stupid."

I didn't need to be told twice.

We slipped out into the dimly lit hallway, our shadows stretching unnaturally against the walls. Harry moved fast, his steps soundless, his whole body taut with readiness. I kept up, ignoring the dull ache in my limbs, the remnants of too many hours tied to a chair.

"Where are we going?" I whispered.

Harry shot me a glare but didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a side room just as footsteps echoed down the corridor. My breath caught in my throat.

Two of Matteo's men walked past, their voices clipped, urgent.

"She's gotta be here somewhere."

"Matteo's gonna kill us if we don't find her."

Harry's grip on my wrist tightened for a fraction of a second before he let go. He pointed to the window across the room.

"Out," he mouthed.

I hesitated. The drop was a long one. If we jumped, we might break something and I had just gotten used to how to work my legs again after sitting for days.

Harry didn't give me time to argue. He yanked the window open, swung one leg over the ledge, and turned back. "Move."

I took a deep breath, sent up a silent prayer, and followed. The night air slapped against my skin as I gripped the edge and dropped down.

I hit the ground hard, pain shooting through my legs, but I forced myself to stay upright. Harry landed beside me a second later, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the alleyway.

Shouts erupted from above.

They'd noticed.

Harry tightened his grip. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried all the urgency in the world.

"Run."

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short chapter!! i'm sorry!! i promise longer chapters are coming :)