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Harry had been in Italy for two weeks and nobody had heard anything out of him. Kate was growing worried because she wasn’t exactly sure what kind of work Harry did in security. Was his line dangerous? Was there a possibility he wouldn’t come back? Why had she not bothered to ask more questions about it?

Kate tightened her scarf and white pea coat around her as she walked the brisk London streets. The weather had gotten colder in the past two weeks and it would probably try to sleet soon. It was late. It took her awhile to get her story written and put in as she was waiting on a source. She still made it by deadline.

Kate gripped the straps of her green Marc Jacobs bag that she had received as a freebie the previous week and stepped into the Dizzy Dragon for a cuppa before she went home. The bar was bustling, but not as busy as usual as it was a Tuesday night. 

She grabbed a seat at the bar directly across from where she and Harry had first met. A group of women were sitting there awing over one woman’s apparent new engagement ring. Kate watched the stone sparkle in the pub light. It was a lovely ring and she caught herself wondering when she would be able to show off one of those rings.

Kate quickly shook those thoughts out of her head. She and Harry had only been together for a few months and her thoughts were being too quick.

“What can I get you love?” It was the same bartender from when she met Harry.

“Dirty Grey Goose vodka martini.”

Kate looked around the bar, not interested in the scene like she used to be. She could see some of her coworkers gossiping in their designer clothes in a corner booth, but she wasn’t interested in joining them tonight.

Kate took her martini and took a sip. She missed Harry. His quirky oddness kept her guessing what was going to happen next and she loved it. She missed his green eyes penetrating hers as their bodies connected. Kate bit her lip and stirred the olive in her martini.

He was so mysterious sometimes, perhaps too mysterious at certain points when it came to his job and childhood. Maybe that was just a part of his security training that floated into his everyday life.

“Kate?”

Kate turned around to see Pat standing behind her, his long hair shagging in his eyes.

“Pat! What are you doing here?” Kate set her glass down and hugged him tightly. Pat took the neighboring barstool next to hers. “I thought you blokes were on tour.”

“We are,” Pat flicked his hair out of his eyes somewhat awkwardly, “but since we saw each other the other night I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Even after Harry tried to kill you?”

Pat laughed, “Yeah, even after that. Are you still seeing him? I don’t see him around.”

Kate smiled and nodded. “I am and things are going so well. He’s on a top secret assignment in Italy right now and nobody knows when he’ll be back. I hope soon though,” Kate took another sip of her martini and the room began to spin.

“Woah,” she leaned against the bar for support, she felt as if she were going to fall over.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Pat grabbed her and held her tight. “Are you all right?”

Kate shook her head and then realized it was a bad idea as the room started to swirl in techicolors. Pat’s scent felt intoxicating and his manly strength was dizzying. Before she knew what was going on, they were back at her apartment, clothes flying off of their bodies.

Kate could feel Pat digging into her, begging to go where Harry had gone. Pat suckled her breast through her bra and slid her matching panties off. Kate moaned in pleasure as he kissed his way down, further and further.

“Harry! Harry,” Kate screamed, gripping the bars of the headboard.

“My name’s not Harry and you’ll do good to remember that,” Pat growled as he flipped her over and made a high pitched scream escape Kate’s lips. She could hear her neighbor banging on the wall, reminding her to be quiet.

That neighbor often interrupted her and Harry’s sexual encounters, but it never bothered her. Tonight it was too raw, too sensual to quiet down. The only thing missing was him.

Kate bit her lip and groaned as Pat gripped her hips. She could feel the onset of bruises. Harry never left her with bruises, at least not ugly, ferocious ones like Pat’s. The headboard was banging against the wall.

“Stop,” Kate asked, beginning to come to her senses. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t her and that surely wasn’t Harry. The world wasn’t spinning anymore but she was feeling sicker and sicker with every thrust.

“Oh no, you started this and you’re going to finish this whore,” Pat growled as his fingers dug deeper, making the bruises more prominent and painful.

“Pat, stop it! Stop it now!” Kate yelled, her voice scratchy with fear. Tears were filling her eyes with fear, pain and regret. “Please,” she hit his chest but it did not faze him, he kept on, ignoring her pleas and cries.

It was hurting her, physically and mentally. Harry’s face kept dancing in her mind and what he would do if he ever found out.

Pat let out a groan and let go of her. He was done with her. Kate slumped on the bed in pain. She curled into a ball and let out a sob as Pat got dressed, unconcerned with her. Kate pulled a blanket over her and coughed from her tears as Pat leaned down and kissed her cheek, which she pulled away from.

“Tell Harry about this and I’ll kill both you and him. Of course, even if you do tell him he’ll leave you. After all, isn’t that what happened with his last girlfriend? Tut, tut, tut. Poor bloke. When will he ever see what was good for him?

“But you know what,” Pat tapped his chin in mock thought with his finger, “maybe you should tell him. Guilt is a poison you know. It eats you up no matter how pretty or victimized you think you are. You should be used to it though. I mean, this is all girls like you are good for, a fast lay and leaving the dirty laundry with you. I like that. We should do this again.”

Kate shook her head, crying harder as Pat degraded her and reminded her of how she destroyed her relationship with Harry for no reason.

“Oh don’t worry Kate, he’ll get over it. There are better girls out there for him. Ones who are like him and understand. You aren’t one of them, no matter what you do, you won’t be one. Give it up.” With a laugh, Pat walked out the front door, but it was Ron Weasley who left the complex, still laughing.

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