HARLEY: A Masterpiece

Sylus arched his brow at me like I'd asked the stupidest question.  

He chuckled. "You need me to spend the day with you so you could drive me nuts more than you already did." 

I wanted to punch him so badly. 

"This isn't about you, grumpy Jones. I just want to let you know that I'll be going out while you're gone. Maybe a movie or something." No, I wanted to visit the orphanage to check on the girl. I'd been restless since the night before.  

"No," Sylus disagreed. "You aren't allowed to do that."  

"What do you mean by that?"  

"You can't leave this house, and you're not allowed to go anywhere, not without my eyes on you." 

I stared at him as if he had two heads. "Are you out of your mind? Do you think I married you to become a prisoner?"  

The air between us thickened with tension, pissing me off further. 

A groan slipped past his lips. "That is not the intention here, but who said you wouldn't run away? You're doing everything to provoke me into sending you home, and since I'm not going to, your only option is to run. So, no, you won't be stepping out of this house unless I'm around."  

"You've got to be kidding me."  

"You best believe I'm not." He looked unfazed as he took me in with a calculated stare. "You will not be jeopardizing my hard work, sacrifices, and the contract, not under my watch. Once this contract is terminated and fully re-signed with your father as well as finalized, you'll be free to go and do whatever you want, out of my life and far away from me."  

"Sylus!" 

"Harley!"  

He was pissing me off more, and the stupid look on his face boldly questioned how I felt to be the one being driven nuts. 

"This is a big house, there are tons of things you can do. Enjoy yourself."  

"Do you think I care about whatever it is you have in this awfully…creepily massive house?" 

"Oh?" Sylus hummed as he took a step toward me. "Are you scared?" 

My grip on his wrist tightened. "Scared of what?" 

"Of being left alone." 

Bastard. My tightened fist collided with his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs, and he hunched over slightly, grunting under his breath.

"Harley!" It was a mix of a pained groan and displeasure. "Leave my room before I return and take your things along with you."  

I watched him straighten up, adjusting his vest as if my punch didn't cut that deep. "Before I return, and I mean it." He turned, yanking his hand away from me, and began to leave. 

But I wasn't going to let him leave just like that. I wasn't some sort of trophy, and no, I had no intention of sitting around all day in his big house waiting for him like a puppy. So, I moved without thinking, jumped onto him, and wrapped my legs around his waist, straddling his neck with my arm, but not so much as to choke him.  

Hell, he may piss me off, but I didn't want him dead and never will.  

My hair fell over him as I tilted my head to get a good glimpse of his face and smiled down at his shocked expression. It was satisfying, but there was no way I would be able to stay on him like this for long. Sylus was strong, his grip alone had proven that, and it was only a matter of seconds before he would grab me off him. 

Yet, I pulled up a threatening smile, whispering into his flushed ear, "If you leave me here, you're going to regret it, Sylus. Mark my words."  

His body shuddered under my hold, and I felt him draw a deep breath. The harsh lines at the corner of his eyes were evidence of how much he was frowning, but I wasn't scared. No, I loved that I could do this to him. "You have a death wish, Harley." 

If only you know. 

"Don't worry, I can't count the death wishes I have had so far with my fingers." Bubbles of laughter broke from me, soft and for his ears only at that moment. I leaned even closer, my jaw resting on his shoulder. "It's up to you, husband."  

"Will you get off me, or do you need me to make you?" 

As much as I would have loved to provoke him further than this, the tone of his voice was no good at all. He was angry—more angry than he'd been yesterday. "Sure." And I hopped down to my feet, turned around, and walked into the room. 

The sound of his footsteps faded as he walked farther away until I couldn't hear them anymore. And a smile immediately curled to my lips. Sylus didn't know what he was about to come back to. I won't be the only one miserable. It was bad enough that my father worked me around like an object, I wouldn't allow someone else to do that.  

I wasn't a doll. 

Hours had gone by, and I stood, staring at what I'd done, at the masterpiece I'd created, just for my husband, my new enemy. 

His clothes were scattered all over his bed, that didn't exclude his expensive shoes. And his ties? I'd snipped through three particular pairs I'd seen him wear several times, at least on TV. 

If there was anything I'd noticed about Sylus, it was that he was a heavy, neat freak. I've never failed to glimpse the crow's feet that emerged on the flesh under his eye whenever I made a mess.

Well, this was going to be fun.

Excitement bubbled inside of me, and I picked up my phone from the bed. I took pictures of the entire mess and pulled his number out. 

Her: Hey husband?  

Grumpy Jones: What do you want? I'm busy. 

Her: Calm down, I have something to show you. 

Grumpy Jones: Harley, what are you up to? 

Her: Give me a second, sweetheart. 

I bit my bottom lip in anticipation as I selected the photos and sent every one of them to him. Just a second was all it took, and my phone was on fire, blaring with continuous messages that were clearly from my husband. 

I ignored them and snuggled into the bed, uncaring of his clothes. Yes, it was childish of me to do that, but I was going to make his life a living hell. He would regret locking me up in his house as if I belonged to him. 

Sylus Jones wasn't going to win this game. He'd already lost from the start, he just didn't know it yet!