Chapter Thirty-One

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It didn't take a genius to figure out that Lucy was going to get out of Harry's grasp, and she did. Escaping from his grasp, she ran toward the grunts and yells, which wasn't easy. With the pounding music from the clubs, the human sounds were drowned out. The high walls kept the sound close but bounced off the bricks. And from people's voices, the grunts could've been anything. Lucy still ran toward whatever danger laid there, whatever happened, away from Harry.

It took him a second of hesitation, but he ran after her. Harry didn't specifically run into danger, like Lucy did, but he ran after her, to help her and perhaps be Prince Charming. If Lucy hadn't been there, he probably would've investigated slowly and properly, not running into danger heart first. But with Lucy there, they went together or not at all.

He didn't call for her, in case she stopped moving and watched carefully. If this was a dangerous situation, he didn't want to give away their position. Quietly running, he found the grunts and Lucy. They met together, still going for the grunts.

The groans grew louder, with a few heavy yells, like a beating. The alleyways curved and still the couple went toward the grunts. If either of them were anyone else, this would not be happening. If Lucy was a normal Prince Harry girlfriend, they would've gone back to the street and called the police. There would've been safety. If Harry was a normal friend of Lucy, she would've left them on the street and she would've ran to save this person. They could've called the police themselves.

Harry's fingers curled around her arm, pulling her back. In return, her fiery gaze fell upon her, and he almost shrieked in fear. They pulled up and heard the grunts. Their shadows stayed within the shadows of the nighttime. Lucy glanced around the corner with Harry beside her, and then she jumped into action. Harry took in the situation, but his action was clear as well.

The situation was this: there was one man on the ground, being beaten by three other men who stood around him. The man on the ground was curled into a ball, in a desperate attempt to save his chest and head from the kicking blows. The three men were hit by the club lights, with their light features and heavy laughter. Slurs poured out of their drunken mouths in haze and craze. One man kicked hardly by leaning up against a wall. The other two could at least stay upright. The man on the ground cowered but it could've been told what he looked like: dark features and tanned skin. The slurs helped to pinpoint the man as Middle Eastern.

Harry knew this propelled Lucy to go faster. Her haste to jump into action came from a helpless person, but then there was the inequality part of it.

"Oi!" Harry yelled, which grabbed their attention. "Oi!"

Lucy wished he hadn't done that, drawing the drunken asses' attention to them. The men stumbled forward to Lucy. She pushed them away, which was easy when they barely stood up straight. Harry went to help Lucy. He gripped one man's arm and pulled it behind the body; the man grunted in pain but tried to kick Harry away. Prince Charming wasn't hurt by the lame attempt to hurt him, but rather annoyed.

"Halt," Lucy yelled. Of course the men didn't. "Stop!"

"Was, mädchen?" slurred one of the drunken boys. "Du bist ein mädchen?"

Rolling her eyes, she told Harry to let the drunken man go. He hesitated, but she yelled at him to do it. Her eyes came back to the drunken Germans. "Was ist das?"

"Prügel."

Her fingers curled into herself, but she almost punched him in the face. Lucy's eyes came to the man still on the ground.

"Wer bist du?" a drunken man asked Harry, whereupon Lucy was forgotten about.

Lucy stepped forward, having no problem getting in this guy's face. He almost collapsed in front of her, but caught himself on the wall. She hated saying this or using this as a threat; however, she had little choice. Lucy spoke in her most dangerous voice, "Ich bin Amerikaner." The man swallowed, probably because of her voice. "Get out of here, idiots."

The men didn't need to be told anything else. They scampered off, in a dirty haze of swear words and slurs.

Stepping forward, Lucy almost snapped back at them. Her words choked her but she said nothing else. In the end, she rushed over to the man on the crowd. His nose bled fiercely, broken obviously, and he probably had a broken rib or two.

"Harry, call the police," she said, before turning back to the man. Her fingertips were light on his skin, not meaning to hurt her.

"Nein," the man roared, getting out of her grasp. Lucy didn't push to get him closer.

"Ich kann dir helfen," she said, realizing that probably wasn't correct German. She had confidence that at least her point got across.

"Nein, Frau, bitte," he begged.

"Warum?"

"Bitte, keine Polizei, bitte...." His sobs filled the air.

She didn't push further, already knowing something inside of him. Eyes understanding, she tried to help him to his feet but he staggered up to his feet. His breath ragged and tortured. His eyes popped out, grasping for whatever sat around him. Literal pain sprung up on Lucy's face, as she just wanted to help him. She wanted those losers to go jail for what they did. But she respected his wishes.

Harry didn't understand, but Lucy backed away quietly. "Harry, we should go."

"Luce, we have to help him. We have to call the police."

"We can't."

"No."

Her fingers slid through his hand, and she pulled him away. "Luce--"

"Harry, let's go now." Her voice grumbled, low and down, dangerous and angry. There was pain in her voice too, as she fought herself. This voice was known to Harry, when she told him that he couldn't get between people when they fought; it wasn't his duty. Now, it wasn't her duty.

The man staggered out of the alleyway. Light hit his bloodied face. Some people noticed and others didn't care. A few people yelled at him, rather good or bad, Lucy's German wasn't good enough. He melted into the crowd.


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