Nefarious {Harry Styles A.U}

Twenty

Liam wasn't cuffed to the table of the interrogation room like he normally would have been if he was an every day civilian, but Agents Hemmings and Hood wanted to show him some professional courtesy, not that Liam was having any of it.

He was freely pacing the room, yelling at the top of his lungs and banging on the two way mirror.

Harry stood on the other side, not flinching as his partners hands connected with the glass in front of him.

"Payne's an asshole," Captain Stock sauntered into the room, standing beside Harry with his arms crossed and hard gaze on his detective. "Annoying and loud definitely. A pain in the ass yes, but a killer he's not."

Harry didn't need convincing. He'd been working with Liam for an incredibly long time. They'd spent a lot of time together, something you do when you're partners. Hell, Harry was even best man at the guys wedding. Harry knew he wasn't capable of something like that.

"I would like to know why the FBI is so convinced he's a killer." Harry sighed and shifted on his feet as Liam yelled profanities at the agents on the other side of the interrogation room door.

"We're about to find out." Captain Stock nodded his head toward the door where the FBI agents wandered in, new suits on looking like they were just fresh out of bed, not like they'd been sat in a small room for days on end.

"Sit down please Mr Payne." Luke instructed, motioning to the chair behind the detective.

"Mr Payne? I'm not cuffed to the desk, but is that all the professional courtesy you're showing?" Liam retorted, not bothering to follow the agents request.

"Sit down please, Detective Payne." Calum corrected his partner, seemingly happy when he finally obliged. "We're going to cut to the chase here, too much bullshit has gone on with this and we want this to be over –"

"You think I don't?" Liam interrupted; a hard look on his face. "You think I like seeing all those people killed at the hand of these people?" Liam's voice was raised slightly, beads of sweat starting to bead on top of his forehead. "You think I killed those people?"

"Yes." Luke replied bluntly, opening a folder in front of him; not bothering to look to the man on the other side of the desk. "Does anyone here know about your record?"

"What?" Liam's eyebrows rose. "What record?" Liam knew the FBI agents were behavioural analysts; that didn't stop him from lying.

"Michael managed to pull the file, there's no point in lying." Luke shrugged.

"Fine," Liam sighed, sitting back in his chair and wiping the sweat off his head. "It's a juvie record, it was expunged. One B and E; I don't see what this has to do with me apparently killing people." Liam defended himself, although clearly the agents in front of him were convinced of his guilt.

Silence filled the room for a moment, Liam swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. "You study people's behaviour right?" His voice was lower, almost like a child who was begging for forgiveness from their mother. The agents didn't answer him, only sharing a confused look wondering where this was going. "I was a kid when I got a record, I was twelve years old and influenced by the kids on my street." Everyone in the police department knew Liam had grown up in a bad neighbourhood, only wanting to fit in so he wasn't the one being beaten up on the regular. "But I got out. I was clean. The judge took pity on me and gave me community service."

"Where are you going with this Detective?" Luke asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What makes someone, at the age of twelve, suddenly escalate into murder at the age of 31?" Liam asked, leaning forwards over the desk, hands on his temples as he thought.