redemption: harry styles

Chapter Fifty Two

"You can try." The voices were louder but I had trouble believing I heard them from so far.

"Wait and see," someone said, their voice tight in pain.

There were four guys and two women, I think. Two incredibly strong men with barrel chests stood on either side of the door I stumbled through, glaring forward with smirks on their faces. The one on my left flickered his gaze to me for only a second and his creepy smile dropped. His hair was cut short and his eyes were the color of Harry's but not even close to as beautiful. It had a look in them that had a Don't mess with me, I'm pissed  look.

The other man was muscular but he was a head shorter than the other, his eyes a thick brown and hair reaching his shoulders, tied into a ponytail.

One man was seated onto a wooden chair, the legs made of something metallic. His chest rose and fell repetitively and sharply. He snapped his head to face me, regarding me with a cold stare.

Liam, a voice cried in my head, but I said nothing. I stared back into his steely eyes; strong and determined, but something flickered in them just before a fist slammed down across his face, striking his jaw.

"No!"  I cried out and lunged forward.

The man who attacked spun around to glower directly into my eyes. He straightened as one of the men guarding the door grabbed me by my wrist, almost breaking my arm. I screamed and turned angrily, fists clenched, and kicked my foot into his shin. The man made a tight sound but kept his grip on me. I lowered my gaze to search for another place to attack until something sharp hit the side of my face a quick second before ripples of pain seared over my skin.

I fell to my side and I heard Liam grunt, the legs of the chair skidding across the cold floor in a deafening screech.

I made a pained sound and pulled myself onto my knees. The man came at me again and yanked me up by my jumper's collar. He raised a calloused hand in the air and I turned away,

"Stop," a calm yet loud voice called out, and the man dropped me. I crumpled to the floor with a desperate and relieved sigh, my hand flying up to rub my face. The place the man struck throbbed like the beats of my heat. "Alive."

The man stepped away as another walked closer. He wasn't as tall or buff; even Liam could've took him down. In fact, he was skinny. His bones stuck out unnaturally and his eyes were a pale blue. A deep scar ran from his left eyebrow to the top of his collarbone, skipping his neck, probably slashed by something as deadly as a machete.

"Well, it's about time you're up," he said and crossed his thin arms over his chest. "Been here for quite some time, waiting. We've got some things to talk about."

I still sat on the floor with my hand pressed to my cheek. The coldness of the ground was easing through my clothes, but I was too scared to move. Liam sat three meters away, his hands tied behind him and his legs pinned to the chair. He said nothing as the man approached, but glared with hatred-filled eyes.

"No?" the man continued with no expression whatsoever. "Nothing to say?"

I looked around him, searching for anything lethal. He raised his hands in mock peace, and crossed his arms over his chest again.

"Don't, worry," he continued in that cool, calm voice. "If I planned on killing you I would have done it earlier. Melissa?"

One of the girl stepped out of the shadows holding a lit cigarette between two fingers. It dropped to the ground and she nonchalantly stepped onto it, crushing it under heavy boots.

Lisa. I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. I wanted to go, I didn't want to come here. It was only because I knew one of the boys was in danger, I guess. Paranoia, stubbornness and apparent bravery brought me here. I was already living a life with a killer--not that I really care about that anymore--so there was no pressure. I didn't hesitate to even think about death, right now, at least.