hostage || l.t ✔️

ninenty two

Louis Tomlinson
I was actually scared.

Harry's father knows I'm supposed to be killed, and he could come any time now, with a gun and kill me. And I deserve it honestly.

I've done so many bad things in my life, and one of them is hurting London and that will forever live with me. I've killed many innocent people, hurt others, and I just...it only hit me recently that I deserve this.

I don't deserve to love London, I feel fucking sorry for her that I love her. I know she doesn't love me back and I don't expect her too, and that's why I sent her back. Because I don't want her to know I love her.

And when my door hurts open I look up to see the only and only Mark Styles standing there shaking his head. "Grab him,"

His workers grab my by the shoulders and pushes me out and I let them. I swallow what feels like my heartbeat and then they push me into the car, locking the doors as one gets in the car in front of me and I just sit there, having no emotion.

"Fuck you, Tomlinson," one of the workers mutters and I just look down. "We're glad about this. You got my fucking daughter killed,"

"She killed herself, asshat," I roll my eyes.

"And who was supposed to be watching over her?" he starts to drive roughly.

"You," I whisper to myself.

"What?" he snaps.

"Me," I speak clearly. "I know, I deserve this,"

"Deserve is an understatement, cunt,"

I look down at my lap and hold my phone, and it turns on. It was that one picture of London and I in the mirror when we put the face masks on. She looks so pretty, a white robe around her body and a green face mask in her soft face.

I smile to myself and feel my eyes fill with tears. I suddenly got very emotional over her, because I let her go, and she doesn't even know what's about to happen and I wanted it to stay like that.

It was about a five minute drive ti where we were, and he grabbed me out the car, and they all surrounded me, pulling me into a big building where all the prisoners go.

I know most of the people in this hellhole, because they deserve to be here, including Cole's brother — and if Cole were alive, he's be here too. They push me into a dark cell and rip my phone from my hands. They then rip my shirt off by the collar, and then push me against the wall, putting my hands in the handcuffs, and leaving me there in just my jeans with no way to get out of these.

I hang my head and look at the tips of my converses on the floor and I close my eyes so a tear rolls out of it. It was so quiet in here, and it was cold.

Some men come back with a stick that's had a metal logo on the end a blow torch. I refuse to even see what they're doing, but I hear the blowtorch turn on and that's when I look up. "What are you doing?" I rasp.

They don't answer me and I watch intently. "They're branding you," Mark comes back and leans on the open cages door. I see the metal glowering bright red and I watch it. "So we know you're about to die," he grins. "This didn't have to happen you know. You just had to keep your girl, and this wouldn't have happened,"