Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 3

But she was alive, which was all that mattered.

"Claire!" Fran's voice rang through the apartment and I barely had time to blink before I was thrown off of Zayn's back, hitting the ground violently. I actually hit my head, casting my vision into darkness for a brief second. Dazed and disoriented, I could hear chaos ensuing all around me as I struggled to regain consciousness of the situation happening all around me.

I was ripped from my disorientation when I felt my hair being pulled-again. I could vaguely see Harry pulling me roughly to my feet, forcing me back to the couch.

He didn't even say anything to me as I felt his hands tug my pants back down, along with my underwear. As soon as he did this, though, I began protesting loudly, panic overwhelming me. But Harry had none of that; he simply threw me over his lap and began smacking my ass so much harder than before. I took one glance at his face and knew he was more than furious-he was fed up with my antics. So he was taking it out on me.

I was sobbing all over again, hearing Fran yelling things and Perrie coughing. The whole situation was pure chaos. I couldn't get a grip over any of it.

The blinding pain actually grew numb halfway through, and when Harry stopped, I was limp in his lap. My eyes were closed, my mouth parted loosely as he pulled my clothes back over.

It was suddenly very quiet when I was sitting back on Harry's lap, tears still falling, my entire body quivering in his grasp. I felt exhausted. I felt like I was seriously in a living nightmare.

"Don't test my patience, Claire." Harry said simply, his voice still rough but a bit calmer as he pulled me back against him. I looked up to see Perrie still on the floor, now silent, and Zayn standing next to her, leaning into the wall. His face didn't look as angry, and he had his hands shoved in his pocket.

Niall stood off to the side, a firm hold on Fran's wrist. Liam stood next to him, watching everyone with emotionless brown eyes. And Louis held Eleanor on his lap with a solemn expression, though I felt his dark blue eyes on me now.

There was something...off about all of them.

A few months ago, I could immediately see that they were cocky and daring. They were able to do whatever they wanted without having to worry about anything. So because of this undeniable power, they were full of themselves-confident.

But right now, they looked edgy. Zayn was no longer smirking; he had a permanent frown on his face as his eyes flickered to me. None of them were smirking right now.

They weren't themselves because they had lost their control.

They didn't "own" London anymore.

They were in a town where they had absolutely no power.

"Just tell us," Perrie said suddenly, her voice hoarse and quieter, "what you want from us."

"I came back to get what was rightfully mine." Harry replied calmly, his hand running down my back. He was evidently referring to me, and I let no emotion cross my face as Perrie looked at me.

I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

"In case you haven't noticed, we have nothing." Liam added. "All we have right now is money."

"So we're moving in." Zayn stated matter-of-factly. "Though this place is small; we're going to have to buy more rooms."

"You can't move in with us." Perrie exclaimed.

"We can do whatever the hell we want." Zayn snapped at her, bringing his gaze back to her. The girl silenced under the look he gave her, her eyes going back to stare at the floor.

"We are, after all, a big, dysfunctional family." Louis chimed in with a sickly cheerful smile, his eyes remaining on me pointedly. "And families stick together through thick and thin."

"We're not family." Perrie said without thinking, standing back on her feet. I flinched when Zayn suddenly turned to her, slapping her right across the cheek. The blow knocked her back into the wall, and she instantly clutched at her reddening cheek, a low grunt escaping her lips from the pain.

"You girls go back into your room." Harry told me suddenly, his arms easing me out of his lap. I stood on wobbly feet, my throat dry and sore. "We need to talk."

Perrie walked out first, along with Fran, then me and Eleanor. I hung back a bit to look at her, but when I saw her face, my blood ran cold.

She had a long, painful-looking scar running down her frail cheek. It was jagged and it looked like it was deep and still fresh. My eyes widened, my mouth falling agape as soon as I saw it. I wanted to ask her what happened-who did it-but I shut my mouth and decided to wait until we got into the room.

Eleanor wasn't wearing a cute sundress; she was wearing what looked like Louis's t-shirt over loose jeans that were wrinkled. Just like Harry and them, something looked off about her. What had happened?

As soon as we were in the rooms, Perrie closed the door behind us and sat on the bed, letting out a huge sigh. To me, it looked like she was about to start crying, but she was trying to hold it back. Fran was already crying into her hands; Eleanor stood silently next to me.

My ass was still burning from earlier. My scalp felt like it was bruised from all the pulling. And my lip felt like it had been torn in two.

And as I looked over everyone's faces, I could only come to one conclusion:

We were fucked.