In My Dark Times - The Deal With The Demon

Chapter Forty-Eight

Louis Tomlinson

Harry refused to sleep that night... he stayed up all night, no words being said. He continued to get high all fucking night. And I was having a hard time allowing it...

I stood in the back garden, smoking a cigarette. I knew fully well that if we had gotten away with this like those guys and Zayn had planned that Darren would be dead.

Zayn had been right... he knew that if we kept waiting something was going to happen; we all knew that. So, why was it such a big deal that we had played him at his own game for once? Isn't that what Harry had wanted all along?

Didn't he want the freedom he had craved for so long? Didn't he see when he lived in Darren's house and drove his car that this was what he wanted? I knew he didn't want it to end in this way... but it could've been him. Harry could've died. It may not have been tonight, it may have been days or weeks from now. But something told me that this guy wasn't going to ever let Harry go... not as long as he was alive.

Hadn't Darren proved that to Harry every fucking time he had turned up out of nowhere? Every time he had taken advantage of him? Hadn't he proved how obsessed he was by now? Didn't Harry see that even though Zayn and I did confront him, that he would only want to push himself on Harry more? He had always been that way.

Darren knew fully well what Harry's mind had come to... and I think that's what made me the angriest. He fucking knew that Harry was so manipulated by him that he could literally have him do anything... he fucking knew he had Harry caged.

Somehow, I couldn't regret this... I couldn't regret shooting him. And if he did end up dying, I wouldn't regret it. I just couldn't... not after what I had seen this 20 year old soul go through... the amount of times he had been crushed by him.

I closed my eyes, feeling them sting because I knew fully well how hard this was going to be for Harry to cope with... even though it shouldn't have been. He had even further to go in therapy now and that thought scared me.

I feared he would freak out at some point; that thought alone made tears fall out because he was already lying inside in our bed, high out of his mind to cope with what had just happened to Darren, the piece of him he was still struggling to let go.

"Hey," Zayn spoke up.

I wiped my eyes and turned to him, "hey."

"You alright, mate?" He asked me.

I nodded, "I just... I don't like seeing Harry like this... what if he blames me."

"Blames you?" Zayn asked, "do you think he's that bad off, Louis?"

I sighed and lit a cigarette, "I often wonder how bad off he is... it's like his mind is always in 2 places. And now... I don't know... I fear he might have a severe setback."

Zayn nodded a little, "I think that's probably to be expected... but you can't let him stop therapy, Louis. He cannot stop."

"How are you so sure we're going to get away with this?" I asked him.

Zayn shrugged, "I've staged sorts of things like this before... and those guys are very good at it..."

"You're joking," I said.

He shook his head, "I'm pretty good at it... and when I was told there was a drug deal, I just sorta knew... they wanted it to be a drug bust."

I stayed quiet, hitting my cigarette again.

"They're not going to come for Harry," he whispered, "alright? No one's gonna know he was there."

I nodded a little, "I fucking hope you're right, Malik."