Harry and Sally
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2004 by Lazlo Zalezac

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sally is a sixteen year-old runaway girl that left home in search of a modeling career. What she found was the seamy side of life and a Druid by the name of Happy Harry.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Magic   Voyeurism   Slow  

The world spun out of control as she attempted to stand up. Her attempt was a failure and she fell back to her knees, her hand sliding across the puddle of vomit on the ground. Disgusted, she wiped her hand on her jeans as she sat back on her heels. She closed her eyes hoping that would make the world stop spinning, but it didn’t help. Instead, it made her feel like she was the one that was spinning.

She bent over and vomited. Her stomach and back hurt with the effort. Her throat was already raw and her sinus cavities burned. Even as she voided the last of the food, she felt the cramps coming on again. She fell over to her side as she held her stomach unable to believe how bad she felt. She cried out, “Oh, God.”

“Shouldn’t eat food that has been thrown out from a Chinese restaurant.”

She looked in the direction of the voice thinking that it sounded like her father. She cringed as she saw two copies of the figure swirling in front of her. It looked like a woman wearing a sack, but the voice was male. Here she was, sick to her stomach, and an old pervert in a dress has shown up to take advantage of her. She had no doubts that this pervert would kill her. In a way, it fulfilled the prophecies that her father had made when she threatened to leave home. She mumbled, “I’m really fucked now.”

The man approached her, taking his time as he stepped around pieces of trash in the alley. His walk ended with him standing beside her. He looked down at the young woman taking in her attire. Her jeans were a little dirty, but weren’t worn out. The tee shirt was rumpled from being worn for several days. He guessed that she had run away from home two or three days ago. Considering that she had been desperate enough to eat food out of a trashcan, he guessed it was closer to three days. He observed, “You’re pretty sick. Have the cramps started yet?”

Summoning her strength, she sat up and wiped the vomit from her face with the back of her hand. Defiant, she answered, “I’m feeling fine. Get away from me.”

“You’re going to be throwing up again any second now,” replied the man looking down at her. She was an attractive enough young woman, the kind that pimps liked to put out on the streets. In the dark, it was impossible to tell what color her eyes or hair was. He added, “You really shouldn’t eat food that has been thrown out from a Chinese restaurant.”

She stared at him, unable to make out his features in the dark alley. Her forehead broke out in a sweat as her stomach churned. As if to confirm his words, she started dry heaving. As she attempted to void an empty stomach, she noticed that the man had backed away. At least that was a positive change. It gave her hope that if he was disgusted enough that he would leave her alone.

Rocking back on her knees, she saw that he was holding something out to her. The first thought that flitted through her mind was that he was going to stab her. It took a minute to make out that it was a bottle of Gatorade. Holding it so that she could see the label, he said, “Drink this. Take small sips.”

“Oh, fuck. You’re trying to drug me,” cried the girl feeling helpless. It wasn’t the first time over the past few days that she had felt that she was in over her head. She realized now that she had been stupid when she had decided to leave home. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. She would run away from home and sign up to be a model at the agency that had promised her a great future as a fashion model. The first thing they wanted from her was money. When she said she didn’t have any, they suggested that she model nude.

“This is Gatorade. You need to drink it in small sips,” said the man as he knelt down next to her. Shaking his head, he said, “Dry heaves, huh? Your bowels will let loose soon.”

Even as he spoke, her intestines boiled. It was as though the suggestion was enough to trigger the need. She grunted, “Get away from me!”

“You need to take a drink of this,” he replied in a soft gentle voice trying to get her to trust him. It was always this way with young runaway girls. They were afraid of everyone and everything. Almost without exception, they chose to trust the wrong person. Pimps knew all the right things to say to them. After the pimp spent a few dollars on food and clothes, the girl would find herself walking the street because the pimp needed her to do that for him. After a while, it was a matter of control that often relied upon emotional abuse backed by physical violence.

She pushed his hand away, rejecting his offer. She said, “Get away.”

Looking down at her, he asked, “So where are you going to go to the bathroom? Everything around here is closed.”

She groaned as another cramp gripped her. The urge to shit hit her like a ton of bricks. Clenching her anus, she tried to control the urge. She hadn’t realized when she left home that if she were sick, she was going to be sick in a public place. Throwing up behind a building was one thing, suffering from diarrhea was another.

The man saw the pained look that crossed her face and knew what it meant. He stood and faced away from her, spreading his robe to hide her from view. He said, “Go ahead. I won’t look.”

Grimacing from the effort to control her bowels, she spat, “Fuck you.”

“You’ve got two choices. You can drop your pants or you can keep your pants on. Either way, your bowels are going to let loose,” replied the man. His voice had a factual tone to it that irritated her. It was the same tone that her father would use when he thought she was doing something stupid. She hated that tone of voice and wanted to react negatively to it.

She knew that she was losing control over her bowels and that he was right. She struggled to get up. Fighting the dizziness and spinning world, she managed to drop her pants. Her bowels boiled and she squatted down as she let loose with a watery movement. The noises her body made embarrassed her. She had never felt so humiliated in her life.

She glared at the back of the man as though blaming him for her current predicament. Why didn’t he just go and leave her in peace? She decided that he must be some really sick pervert if he got off on watching girls go to the bathroom. “I don’t have any toilet paper.”

Using his shepherd’s staff, he pulled over some loose sheets of newspaper without looking at her. She grabbed one sheet when it came close enough and muttered, “Thanks.”

“So what’s your name?”

“Sally,” she answered automatically and then mentally kicked herself for having told him. She tore a piece of newspaper off and wiped herself with it. It felt rough and she frowned as the thought occurred to her that she was wiping herself with a dirty piece of paper. Who knew what kind of germs she was going to get from it?

“It’s nice to meet you, Sally. I’m Harry, but most people call me Happy Harry.”

Another voice called out into the night, “Hey, what’s going on there?”

The girl tried to shrink into herself. All she needed now was a group of men watching her suffer. What was going to happen to her next? She was sure that she was about to be gang raped. She hadn’t realized that the world was filled with so many perverts. She wondered if she had been unlucky enough to find two of them.

Harry looked at the figure standing in front of mouth of the alleyway. The outline of his gun and nightstick was clear. He smiled when he realized that it was Officer Hogan. He called back, “Got a sick girl here.”

“Is that you Happy Harry?” called back the officer with an obvious tone of relief in his voice. He knew if Harry was around, that he was taking care of someone. If it required him to do something, it would be pretty minor.

“Yeah. It’s me, Officer Hogan.”

“What’s the matter?”

The girl stood to pull up her pants. Harry heard her and, over his shoulder, said, “Don’t bother. You’ll have to go again in a minute.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” She looked around Harry and spotted the cop. At least now she had found someone that would help her. She wanted to call out for the cop to help protect her from this pervert.

“Okay.” He knew that she’d be squatting again in a minute, but he didn’t want to rub it in. Harry called back to the policeman, “I found a runaway girl about fifteen or sixteen who’s sick as a dog.”

“You going to take care of her?” asked Officer Hogan.

Sally couldn’t believe what she had heard the cop say. He was actually going to leave her with this pervert. She was about to tell him off when her intestines boiled and she had to drop her pants. She moaned as her bowels released their load. This had to be the most miserable day of her life.

Harry said, “She’s pretty sick.”

“Let me guess. She ate Chinese?”

“Yeah,” replied Harry as he glanced down the alley at the rear of the Chinese restaurant. The food in the trash bins was incredibly foul and it was a wonder that she had been able to swallow any of it. She should have gone behind a pizza place to scavenge food.

“Does she need to go to the hospital?” asked the cop as he walked towards Harry. He’d call an ambulance if Harry said she needed one.

“Nah. She just needs to get some fluids in her,” answered Harry. He avoided the temptation to look back at the miserable girl behind him. He added, “She doesn’t trust me enough to drink the Gatorade that I have for her.”

“Little lady, he’s one of the good guys,” replied the cop knowing that she probably wouldn’t believe him.

“Ha!” She didn’t believe that for a moment. Even the stress of saying that sparked another boiling in her bowels. The world spun again and her vision doubled. She felt the urge to vomit again. She wondered if she would survive this.

“He’s a Druid and that makes him one of the good guys,” stated Officer Hogan in a tone of voice that brooked no arguments. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t an argument that could be made. He had watched Harry change the lives of people that lived on the street.

Sally was stunned by the statement that the guy was a Druid. It had never occurred to her that he wasn’t wearing a dress, but a Druid robe. Druids worked with government to change things. They didn’t hang around in alleyways to take care of someone that was sick. She said, “I’ll take that Gatorade now.”

“Good. Drink it in small sips or you’ll be throwing it all up,” said Harry as he held the bottle behind his back. It was almost a full minute before she took the bottle from his hand.

Officer Hogan asked, “So how are things going at Hobo Camp?”

Hobo Camp was the name that the police had given for the homeless hotel that Harry had set up on some land that he had purchased using funds from the Fusion Foundation. Sleeping berths were provided in the form of a row of sewer pipes stacked three high. Each sewer pipe had a flat area provided by the wooden insert that kept the occupant off the cold cement surface. They were washable, an important consideration when the occupant were just as likely to get sick as not. With porto-potties, beach showers, and Fusion Well Outdoor heaters, the camp provided all the basic necessities associated with shelter. Harry smiled at the change of subjects and answered, “Things are going well. I’ve got a short list of people who will take over for me when I move on.”

The news that Harry would be leaving was a surprise. Officer Hogan asked, “I’m sorry to hear that you are moving on. When are you going?”

“When I’m called to go,” answered Harry. It was strange, but his service to the Goddess had not impacted his wanderlust in any fashion other than to allow him to wander further and quicker.

The pair of men talked as Sally continued to suffer through her bout of food poisoning. It took an hour, but she finally recovered enough to be able to stand without having the world spin. Harry said, “You stay here with Officer Hogan while I get you a change of clothes.”

After Harry walked away, Sally moved towards the mouth of the alley to get away from where she had thrown up and shit. She took another sip of her drink and listened to the policeman talk about Harry. It seemed that Harry was one of the good guys.

Harry returned to the alley to find the cop talking with the young woman. He took his time knowing that Officer Hogan would reassure the girl that she was in good hands. As he walked, he tried to decide what he would do with her. It was the first question that the cop would ask him when he returned.

As he approached, he heard Officer Hogan tell the girl, “Harry’s the last of the Hobos. His parents were Hobos and he was raised a hobo, but he’s a good man. He takes care of others and passes on his knowledge about how to survive outside the normal bounds of society.”

That he was the last of the hobos was a true statement in Harry’s opinion. It had been years since he had seen a Hobo sign although he still left the marks to warn others of towns that were hostile to vagrants. He doubted that any of the current generation that called themselves hobos knew the signs, the songs and the stories. He had even met a few of them that actually owned houses.

He approached and said, “I found something for you to wear. It’s not great, but it is clean.”

He handed her the gown and wasn’t surprised by the look of dismay that crossed her face when she saw what it was. Young women were always concerned about their appearance even if they were sick. She complained, “I can’t wear this.”

“It’s better than wearing your shit stained pants,” replied Harry without any trace of compassion in his voice. She had to learn to take care of herself and this included taking care of her body. Life was tough on the streets for a pretty girl. For that matter, life was tough on the streets for an ugly girl.

Shocked by his rough language, she realized that he was right. When the man turned his back to her and spread his robe, she turned away and removed her shirt and put on the dress. At least she had been wearing a bra. It was basically a sack with a hole for her head and two for her arms. Once the dress was on, she pulled her pants off. She was left holding her shirt and pants wondering what to do with them. It took her a minute to realize that Harry was holding a plastic bag behind his back for her to use. She grabbed the bag and stuffed her clothes into it. After a minute, she said, “You can turn around now.”

Harry turned and looked at her. It was definitely an ugly outfit and made her look like she was pregnant. At least now he could let her ride in the Roach Coach with him. Officer Hogan asked, “Are you going to take care of her or should I take her over to juvie?”

“I’ll take care of her,” answered Harry. She didn’t need to go into the Juvenile Lockup as a runaway considering her current state of weakness. They’d eat her up there. If she were worried about rape out here, she’d be shocked to have her fears become real there.

“Good. I hate to see girls like her go in there,” replied the cop. He turned to the young lady and said, “You do everything that Harry says. If you screw up, he’ll call me in and I’ll have to take you to Juvenile Hall. You wouldn’t like it there.”

Sally sat in the passenger seat while Harry drove the truck back to the homeless hotel. When they turned off the main street and headed to an area under a bridge, she started to get worried. This looked like a rough neighborhood and it was just as rough as it appeared. An industrial area on one side, a slum on the other side, and a river on the third bordered it. The ground was littered with trash. She hoped that it would look better in the light of day, but suspected that it didn’t.

This was the kind of place where homeless people hung out if they wanted to avoid getting arrested. They weren’t welcome in the suburbs or the nice parts of town. Occasional work was available in the industrial area and the slum. One day of hard work could earn enough to last a week or more. Railroad tracks ran through the central part of the industrial area and they weren’t far from the highway. In fact, a bridge ran overhead to cross the river.

The headlights illuminated the camp. Rows of sewer pipes about three feet in diameter lined one side of the camp. A row of outhouses and shower stalls lined the other side. At one end was a small metal shack. Harry pulled the truck up to the metal shack and turned off the headlights. Turning to Sally, he said, “We’re here.”

She looked around and asked, “Where are we?”

“We’re home,” replied Harry as he got out of the truck. He walked over to the metal shack and opened the door. Entering, he flipped on a light switch and had to take a minute for his eyes to get used to the sudden light. The stack of blankets had gone down by a few, but that was expected. One of the plastic trashcans was gone. He figured that meant one of the guests must have been drunk and Tin Tom had required them to use the trashcan.

He picked up a blanket, a bar of soap, a towel, and one of the plastic trashcans. Deciding there was nothing else that she needed, he left the shack turning the light off behind him. It took a minute for his eyes to get used to the dark. He handed the stack of items to Sally as he said, “These are for you to use. If you get sick, use the plastic trashcan.”

Taking the supplies, she was shocked at the scratchy feel of the blanket and wondered how she would sleep using it. She complained, “It’s all scratchy.”

“It’s wool. It’s strong, durable, and warm, and it will last for years,” answered Harry. He pointed to the showers and said, “Take a shower and wash your clothes. Set the clothes out to dry at the rear of your bed.”

Sally did as she had been instructed. When he had told her to take a shower, she had expected hot water and was disappointed to learn that it was cold tap water. It was hard to stay under the spray of cold water as she washed herself and then her clothes. The shower didn’t leave much for privacy. The door covered enough of her body that no one would be able to see much of her, but it was unnerving to know that a little door held only by a spring was all that stood between her naked body and any eyes that might be interested.

It was with some relief that she was able to put the ugly sack dress on again. She stepped out of the shower and looked around at her surroundings. The night, filled with the sounds of men snoring, was not silent. She felt lost and alone, jumping when she heard Harry say, “Follow me and I’ll take you to a bed.”

She followed him dutifully as he walked past sections of sewer pipes that contained people within them. Looking into one as she passed by it, she could see the head of a man lying on his back with his mouth open in a snore. After walking past a few empty ones, Harry stopped and pointed. “You can sleep here.”

She looked in the section of sewer pipe. A narrow wooden plank covered the bottom. She threw her damp clothes into the pipe and crawled into it. There wasn’t much room and she kept hitting her head as she tried to set her wet clothes at the end of it. Once she had everything arranged, she lay down on the wooden plank and covered herself with the blanket.

Sleep was long in coming. Twice she had to leave the pipe and go to the bathroom. Using real facilities was an improvement over the alleyway, even though the porto-potties smelled of urine and chemicals. She missed a proper bathroom.

Lying in the sewer pipe, she wondered how she had ended up there. She had wanted to go into modeling and her father was standing in her way. He had told her that it was a scam and she had learned that he was right. All they wanted from her was money or her naked body. So maybe he was right about this one, but she knew that she could be a model. After all, everyone told her that she was beautiful.

Her parents just didn’t understand her and with their arbitrary rules, were doing everything in their power to make her life miserable. Who cared if she cleaned her room today or tomorrow? So long as it got cleaned occasionally, it didn’t matter. It was unfair that they had so much control over her life.

Her thoughts turned to the past few days. She had expected things to go better than they had gone. She had spent the first night in the stairwell of a parking garage. It had been horrible, but she had gone back there the second night. She had gotten about three hours of sleep before a security guard chased her out. The rest of the night had been spent wandering aimlessly around the streets. When she had seen someone walking the streets, she had hidden herself from view and waited terrified that they would try to rape her.

What little money she had was gone by the middle of the second day. That evening, she was hungry, but couldn’t buy any food. The entire next day was spent looking for something to eat, but she had not been lucky. She had tried to get food from people in the park by looking pathetic, but they ignored her. By that night, she had been desperate to eat something.

With no money she had decided to get something out of the trashcans behind a restaurant. That had led to the most humiliating experience of her life. She fell asleep thinking about the hours spent in the alley. Her dreams were haunted with images of her being sick in front of her schoolmates.

Morning came early in the homeless hotel. Sally woke to the sounds of people moving around, coughing, and talking. She looked out and saw an old man with a short grizzled beard looking back at her. He moved his jaw as if he were chewing, but when he opened his mouth there weren’t any teeth. At the shocked look on her face, he threw his head and laughed. Slapping his knee, he continued on to the porto-potty.

Confused by his behavior, Sally didn’t know what to think of the old man. Reaching down to her feet, she touched the jeans finding that they were still damp. Her stomach growled and she made her way out of the sewer pipe in the search of food. Looking around, she found the metal shack and headed towards it hoping to find Harry.

The camp was even uglier during the day. The row of cement sewer pipe made it look like a construction site. The porto-pottys were clean, but it was impossible to escape their smell. The neighboring area was filled with trash and she wondered where it came from. Only a minute went by before she saw a paper bag fly down from the bridge, thrown out the window of a moving car. The scariest thing was the homeless people milling around in layers of worn clothes. Bad teeth, unshaven faces, and uncombed hair made them look dangerously undisciplined.

At the metal shack, a trio of men sat around on cinder blocks without saying much. She looked at the youngest of the three men, taking in his thin frame, military fatigue jacket, the rough beard, weathered hands, and scars on his face. Mentally, she decided he was a rapist. He looked up at her and frowned as he muttered, “Jail bait.”

The oldest man looked up at her. His belly was huge and hung over his belt. Even though it was a warm day, Sally could tell that he had five layers of clothes on. After he spat on the ground, he said, “Pull up a cinderblock.”

Sally looked around and saw a cinderblock next to the third man. Sitting down on it, she asked, “Where do you get food around here?”

The three men laughed at the question. The guy next to her struck his thigh and answered, “Just call room service, Princess.”

The oldest man joked, “I bet you would like some steak and eggs.”

The guy next to her rubbed his crotch and said, “I’ve got a tube steak for you to eat.”

Sally didn’t understand what was so funny about her question. The man next to her was just disgusting. She crossed her arms and looked away in disdain thinking that someone should have taught them manners when they were young. The youngest man looked around and said, “Lay off her. Harry’ll be back soon. He’ll feed her and she’ll have to work for the food just like us.”

“Shit, Tin Tom. Just havin’ a lil fun wit her,” replied the man sitting next to Sally.

The man had used the nickname by which Tom was known on the streets. Some man had called him a tin soldier and the name stuck. At first, he had hated the nickname but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Tom replied, “She’s just a kid. Leave her alone.”

The oldest man sniffed as he rubbed a hand through what little remained of his hair. Turning to look at Sally, he said, “I guess it falls upon me to perform the introductions. Folks call me Fat Man, the gentleman next to you is George, and the soldier here is Tin Tom.”

“Nice to meet you, Fat Man, George, and Tin Tom. I’m Sally.” She felt weird about calling someone Fat Man, but that was the name he wanted to go by. Now that the introductions were over, she didn’t know what else to say.

Tin Tom sat there for a minute examining her and then asked, “So was your daddy or step-daddy screwing you or something?”

The question struck Sally like a slap across her face. She sat up and answered, “Most certainly not. My Daddy isn’t a pervert.”

“Then what in the hell are you doing out here when you could be at home?” asked George.

It was a good question and one that she should have asked herself before. Rather than answer, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

George answered, “I was sick and went to one of those Fusion clinics. They gave me some pills and told me to get out of the weather until I recovered. I came here to the Hobo Hotel. I took the last pill last night and will leave after breakfast.”

Fat Man winked at her and said, “The reason I’m here is that it is between where I was and where I’m going.”

“So where you are going?” asked Sally.

“I’ll know when I get there,” answered Fat Man with a chuckle. When he got to where he was going, he’d drop dead because that was the only way he’d stop moving.

It didn’t make sense to Sally and she was about to ask him to explain himself when Tin Tom said, “Harry’s coming.”

George looked around and saw no sign of Harry. He asked, “How in the hell does he know if Harry’s coming?”

“From the chair that he’s sitting in, he can see Harry drive past those two buildings over there,” answered Fat Man.

Tin Tom said, “Princess, I’d better warn you about the folks around here. Only two reasons people are homeless nowadays. They either want to be homeless or they’re crazy.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Fat Man said, “Not too many people want to be homeless.”

Sally understood what the old man was saying. It was a not so subtle way of letting her know that most of the guys around here were crazy. She looked around trying to see who was crazy and who wasn’t. Tin Tom said, “You can’t tell by looking, Princess.”

The Roach Coach turned down the street to where they were waiting. Other people emerged from the sewer pipes and started drifting over to the metal shack. Sally watched them, trying to tell which ones were crazy and which weren’t. Tin Tom was right, you couldn’t tell by looking. They all looked creepy to her.

Harry pulled up to the metal shack and climbed out the door of the truck. Looking around the camp with a smile plastered on his face, he went around to the side of the truck and swung the panel upwards. When it locked into place, he stepped back while everyone formed a line.

Tin Tom stood and started to head over to the truck. He stopped and looked back at Sally realizing that she wasn’t going to get in line. For a moment, he wondered if she expected Harry to bring the food over to her. Sighing, he asked, “Princess, do you expect him to deliver your breakfast to you?”

The question went to the heart of what she had been thinking, but his continued use of the term princess bothered her. Sally stood and followed Tin Tom to the end of the line. George and Fat Man got into line behind her. The line moved fast as Harry handed out cups of coffee and donuts. When one of the people stepped up to the truck, Harry said, “Jack, you know the rules. Bed is free, but you have to work for your meal.”

“Shit, I’ll work for it after I eat.”

Shaking his head, Harry had heard that line so many times in the past that he knew not to fall for it. He picked up a plastic trash bag and handed over to Jack as he said, “Last time you told me that, you disappeared after you ate. You have to work first, eat later. Fill the bag with trash from over there.”

Sally waited in line, her stomach making a continuous rumble, but when she reached the front, Harry said, “Bed is free, but you have to earn your meals.”

The news that he expected her to work surprised her, particularly since he knew just how hungry she was. She was so hungry that she couldn’t see straight, but accepted the plastic bag from Harry without complaint. She had heard a number of murmurs, “Princess.” Never had she heard such a word convey so much disdain.

Without expressing any of the hundred reasons why she felt that she shouldn’t have to work, she headed over to the field next to the camp and started picking up the trash. Her hunger worked on her mind and she worked mechanically. The field was full of trash, either thrown from the bridge above or blown into the field from the industrial park. It didn’t take long for her to fill the plastic bag.

Moving woodenly, she returned to the Roach Coach. The line of people waiting for food was gone, but Harry waited inside the truck for anyone that might be hungry. He looked at the bag of trash and said, “Princess, I see that you’ve picked up some trash. Put the bag in the dumpster over there and wash your hands.”

Without arguing, she did as instructed. When she returned, he handed her a quarter of a donut and a half-cup of coffee. Looking at it, she complained, “Only a quarter?”

“For now. Put too much food in that empty stomach and you’ll lose it all again,” replied Harry. He added, “Eat slowly.”

After his predictions of the night before, she knew better than to argue. Nibbling on the donut, she was surprised when her stomach started to rebel after eating half of what she had been given. She drank a sip of the coffee, the hot beverage spreading warmth through her insides.

Harry said, “Since you weren’t abused by your parents, you’ve got only a few choices. You can live a life like the people here. In ten years, you’ll look twice your age and people will look down on you as a bag lady. You can become a whore and start fucking your way through life. Course, it won’t be long before you get hooked on drugs. You could make it on your own, but that’s highly unlikely. No money, no high school diploma, and no work experience. Nope, it seems to me like you have two choices, bag lady or whore.”

“Aren’t you going to send me home?” asked Sally. She had listened to his assessment knowing full well that he was correct, but not wanting to believe it.

“Why would I do that?” asked Harry with a smile. He looked her directly in the eye as he added, “You could leave again.”

She stared at him wondering what he expected of her.

Edited By TeNderLoin

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