~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
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It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
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Pure, unfiltered rage sends adrenaline rushing through my veins in such high doses that my body is buzzing with barely suppressed violence. There's only been one other time in my life when I felt this level of overwhelming, white-hot anger - and that night ended in destruction and carnage so severe it could still come back and bite me in the ass all these years later if I'm not careful.
The second I laid eyes on Addy I was hit with a rush of strong emotions that echoed what I felt all those years ago. Feelings I thought I'd locked away so deep they'd never resurface.
And just like back then, I find myself once again on the hunt for someone to punish. Except this time I won't make the mistake of handing out a quick death; Evan is going to suffer for what he's done. Matt, Harry and I will be his jury, judge and executioner.
I head straight to his house, speaking with Topher on hands-free the entire time to make sure Evan's not making a run for it. If he is, he's being smart and quiet - no electronic money trail - two things that he has never demonstrated any strength in. Not even a charge to his bank card to fill up his car with petrol for a long drive. If the idiot hasn't left the city yet then he truly is intellectually challenged.
Just before I turn into his street I cut my lights and then clutch-coast my car to a gentle stop several houses down from his to avoid giving any warning of my arrival. I need this to be as quiet as possible. No witnesses for Joseph to track down when he finally comes sniffing around for his little errand boy and wayward daughter. I'll move the car closer once it's time to load him into it.
Evan's house is dark and silent, like most on the street; not unusual considering the late hour. His lock is simple and I open it using nothing but the light from my phone, muscle memory and a simple lock-picking device. The overgrown garden and general delapidated state of the place helps shield me from unwanted eyes. Once inside I'm instantly assaulted by musty, stagnant air and what sounds like the scuttling of cockroaches interrupted in their nightly foraging. Real fucking classy, mate.
I shudder at the thought of Addy being forced to live in a place like this. It's no wonder the light in her eyes is so dim; this is a place designed to kill anything good in a person. My respect for her resilience in the face of overwhelming adversity only continues to grow. I silently make my way through the dump of a house with one hand gripping the handle of the gun tucked into the back of my jeans; clearing each room as I go.
Snoring coming from just down the hallway catches my attention and I almost feel disappointment in this being so damn easy. At this point I'll have him restrained before he is even fully awake. It's not that I enjoy inflicting pain specifically - but there is something inherently vindicating about giving someone like Evan the beat down they have so rightfully earned.
