His. There was someone behind all of this. And it just so happened to be theperson I had ran away with, started a life with, created a home with. Thiscouldn't be his doing, though, my Harry couldn't possibly have done this.But he did. That I became all too aware of as he stood, back facing me,hammering in another patch of horrid skin. I screamed.It was a mistake, I knew, but what other possible reaction was there?The hammer clattered to the floor. Harry did not become alarmed or evenwhip his head around. Still facing away from me, he calmly took in a breath;of anger, it must be. Then slowly, so slowly that my heart was about to burstfrom my chest with anticipation, he faced me. "I told you," he said in a voiceso quiet it was almost chilling. "Not to come in here."I didn't know how to respond. Too many things were hitting me all at once. Iwanted to vomit, sob, scream, and run for my life at the same time. But mybody did not choose any of those options, frozen on the spot despite myefforts to flee.He walked closer. "I'm sorry," he said. I was surprised to hear him say it,taken back slightly. He was sorry? That was his response? His explanationfor this horrible crime? And worse yet, he was lying. If he were truly sorry hewould have said the words with some remorse, some guilt. But his eyeswere vacant. I could not look at them but had no where else to look exceptfor that horrendously decorated wall or the bodies lying along the floor."Rose?" he asked. He began to walk toward me. His features had restoredtheir usual qualities. He looked poised, put-together, as if we were not in aroom full of dead people. "This doesn't mean anything. This is just somethingI do, it doesn't change us," he said, gesturing between me and him.When I didn't answer is when he began to panic slightly. Suddenly his voicegrew small and vulnerable."Rose, you still love me, right?" he stepped closer. There was desperation inhis eyes. His lips were pouted slightly and his features softened in worry. Fora moment he looked like a little boy, fingers going to my arm for the comfortof my touch.But I was not fooled. I yanked away from his fingers that had momentsbefore held a patch of human skin.And the false innocence was gone almost as fast as it had come. Hisfeatures contorted in anger, furious that I had refused his plea. And I nolonger felt his right hand on my hip, but instead striking across my face.A sting was left in its place. It was not the pain of his assault but rather thenature of it that made my eyes grow wide in fear, tears welling up insadness. And those emotions did not cease, much like his anger. He lunged,and before I knew it, his long fingers were wrapped around my throat. Hewas shouting things, sentences I could not hear. I could feel him squeezingharder and harder, his fingers digging into my skin, stealing my breath andclenching my throat. My thoughts were stricken with panic and disbelief. Howcould my Harry do such a thing? He had usually been my happiness, mysafety, but here he was like a knife stabbing through the heart I had lovedhim with.I tried to breath, to get a sliver of oxygen between my closed throat. Ahorrible terror rose within me as I wildly pushed and punched and kicked. Iwas losing breath, and within seconds, my mind floated intounconsciousness.I woke gasping for air. Harry and the shed and the bodies were gratefullyripped from my mind, replaced by the impossible dark of the room. But it wasa comfortable dark and I relished in it. I felt around myself in a haste to gainback some elements of reality.There were those soft blankets. Fluffy pillows, the heat of the air around me.My hands went to my throat, fingers grazing the skin. I was fine. It was just adream."Rose?" The same voice from my nightmare called. I yelped in fright.A dream, I reminded myself. The dream was fictional, but the Harry I lovedwas real and calling my name. I let out a deep sigh of relief. "Are youalright?" He asked, rushing toward me. Within seconds he was at the bed,looking over me in concern."Yeah," I said, still catching my breath a bit. "Just a bad dream is all."He studied my face for a moment, contemplating whether or not to askquestions. He seemed to have decided against it, climbing into the bed."Well, I'm here now," he said, pulling me to him. He leaned us against theheadboard and I turned to the side, slinging my arm across his torso, lyingmy head against his chest. It was a weird feeling, taking comfort in him frommy nightmares of him. But it was a different him that dwelled in myunconscious mind. It was an evil version, where here beneath me lied thetrue Harry who was of an opposite nature."Go to bed," Harry whispered in my ear, squeezing me tight while he said it."I'm here, Rose. And I will be in the morning when you wake up."He dragged his fingers through my hair, my eyes fluttering closed with hissoothing touch. But I could not fall asleep just yet."Harry?" I asked quietly."Yeah?""What were you doing when I woke up just now? Why weren't you in bed?"He hesitated for only a second before replying. "Just coming back from thetoilet," he said casually "Oh." His statement left me confused. I didn't hear movement when I wokeup, and there wasn't any sort of light on. It had seemed as if he had beenstanding in the middle of the room. And something was off about the way hesaid it, too, something in his tone. But why would he lie about such a trivialthing? I was probably just tired, hardly even understanding my own thoughts.Harry must've noticed my perplexed expression. "You okay?" he asked,nose nudging my head to the side. "Hmm?"I couldn't help but break out into a grin. "Yeah," I said. I kissed him on thecheek just to reassure him."Good," he mumbled. He pulled the covers up over us, playfully tucking themin around me. After he pressed his lips to the corner of my eye they flutteredclosed, and I began to drift away in sleep. This time I remained as such forthe rest of the night.HARRY'S POVI woke up with two wonderful things on my mind; the memory of Rose'spretty little lips wrapped around me and the feel of an actual mattressbeneath my body. I felt better than I had in a long time. We were both safe,healthy, we had supplies, and the townspeople thought we were dead. Notto mention we were sleeping on a thick mattress with comfy blankets in aheated building. For us two fugitives, life was pretty good right about now.And I continued to be thankful when my eyes lazily opened. They fell on thegirl lying on top of me, the best part of it all. I couldn't stop looking at her softsleeping features. Her beautiful eyes were closed, her red lips partedslightly. Her hair rested just past her shoulders and I couldn't seem to stoprunning my fingers through it. All of her worries were gone, all of the stress ofour harsh reality absent. She always looked beautiful, but especially so insleep.With my hand playing through her short waves her eyes fluttered open. Shelooked up at me through tired eyes. "Hey baby," my voice croaked."Mmm," she smiled, eyes shutting again. She nuzzled into my chest. "Goodmorning."And that was another thing; I loved waking up with her. Spending the firstlight of the sun with Rose by my side just made everything feel so right,made this all feel worth it. My love for her was always somehow enhanced inthese innocent mornings, they were among my favorite of times spent withher."Should we get up?" she asked, voice still drowsy."Maybe," I said. "Or we could just stay in this bed all day." That would reallybe the ideal choice."I wish," she said. "What time do we have to be out of the room by?"I thought back to last night when we got this room from that piece of shit atthe front counter. "I don't think he told us, probably around noon orsomething," I said. The both of us looked to the clock hanging on the leftwall."Oh my gosh!" Rose exclaimed with an innocent excitement. "It's eleven?!""Wow," I chuckled. "I guess it is.""That has to be the latest I've slept in in years," she said. The same went forme, nothing had distracted me from sleeping as long as I wanted last night,which was unusual.With her statement she turned back to her previous position, arms wrappedaround me while she rested her head on my chest. We stayed like that for afew moments.Her lips pressed to my skin about a minute later. "We should really get up,"she sighed.I groaned in protest. "I'll only get up if you get me my cigarettes," I said.She looked at my eyes in mock annoyance and rolled off of me, landing herfeet on the floor. "Ugh, you're always making me get you your damncigarettes." She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at me. I got hitright in the face, waking up fully now.She giggled, standing there in nothing but my t-shirt. "Sorry," she shrugged,beginning to walk away. Someone was in a good mood today."Oh no you don't" I said, abruptly sitting up. I moved to the end of the bedand grabbed her hips, pulling her back toward me and throwing her to themattress. I moved to kneel over her. I pinched her sides and she shrieked,trying to wriggle away. But one of my legs was on the side of hers, the otherin between. I had her pinned.I began my merciless attack, tickling all over her stomach. She screamedwith laughter, and I couldn't help but laugh with her."Harry, stop!" She cried. But that only urged me to continue while she tried tobreak free. My fingers went to her ribs, her neck, everywhere. She wriggledand thrashed while she cracked up, her smile lighting up her features. Shekept trying to push me away by my shoulders and almost prevailed, but Igrabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand.The tickling ceased. Rose's delightful laughter slowly quieted while she liedbeneath me, her chest rising and falling quickly. She was so sexy.I couldn't resist, I leaned into her parted lips. They were soft and sweetagainst mine and I savored it. I let my hand rest at the side of her thigh, justunderneath the fabric hanging from her torso. The other released her wristsbut stayed on the mattress to prop myself up above her. My tongue enteredher mouth and glided against her own.She slid her fingers into my hair and pulled me down to her, my bodypressed against hers upon the soft sheets. Even kissing her, feeling her insuch an innocent way as this, was generously satisfying. A single touch wasalmost enough, but at the same time I couldn't get enough of her. I wouldalways need more of that satisfaction. I could not imagine us growing oldand losing that hungry need. Now, and in our thirties and forties I wouldalways want to explore her skin further, kiss her deeper.But sadly there was not time for that now. Rose was the one to pull away, asmall smile playing on her slightly swollen lips. "We should probably getgoing," she whispered, her blue eyes swimming with affection.I nodded, kissing her one last time."To be continued," I promised.She laughed and we finally got out of bed, beginning to pack up our things.Rose kept my shirt on so I wore the only other one in my bag, another shortsleeve.Black this time. We dressed and shoved as much as we could to ouralmost overflowing bags; shampoo, conditioner, a throw blanket. We ate abreakfast consisting of water and bananas then went to the toilet to brushour teeth. Then we exited the room. Part of me worried we wouldn't luckilystumble upon another motel any time soon, but staying in one place for toolong was dangerous.So we left. Wearing jackets and with backpacks hanging from our shoulderswe walked toward the front desk to check out. That fucking rat from last nightbetter not still be there.And when we went through the doors to the lobby, I didn't find him. Insteadthere was a rather large, older woman standing back near the wall behindthe counter. She seemed very distraught, her expression solemn with thephone call."Who is that?" Rose whispered from beside me. "Does she look familiar toyou?"My eyebrows furrowed in thought, but her image brought up nothing. "No,not to me," I shook my head before approaching the counter."What did they do?" The employee asked into her phone. She noticed meand held it between her ear and her shoulder, rammaging through a deskdrawer. The cord seemed to make it difficult for her but she managed. Theonly attention she paid me was when she placed a registration card and penon the counter for me to fill out. I wasn't about to pay much attention to her,either, but something in the conversation caught my attention."Is he alright?" She spoke into the phone. A person from the other end of theline spoke for a moment before she let out a long sigh. And then she beganto cry. This conversation was certainly not just a friendly catch-up. Ipretended not to notice, currently thinking up a fake address to write down.But I still listened, and I knew Rose was doing the same from beside me."How did that happen? No guards were there to stop it?"First I was interested, and now I was hanging on to every one of her quietspokenwords. "Why would they do such a thing? James was a good kid, hedoesn't deserve that," she said through small sobs.I stopped writing. What the fuck?"He's only my nephew, I can't imagine how you feel, your son. I knewrunning that institution was a bad idea, I knew it."Institution?I was done filling out the card. I placed my key on the counter and looked tothe woman. She then acknowledged me, nodding before taking my paper.My mind was racing. I quickly grabbed Rose by the hand, pulling her out ofthere as fast as I could. But I didn't dare say a word.Because, from what I heard, it sounded like we had just been in front ofJames Hellman's aunt. I was the man who killed him, I was the reason forher sobs. I felt like at any moment she would come to realize that.But what was even worse was that she seemed to be on the phone withnone other than the woman most intent on tracking us down.