Toxic (Harry Styles)

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I guess I have to let myself take the fall before I'm prepared to hit the ground.

Once- not too long ago- Jess convinced me to sneak out at night. My father was at home so I couldn't escape through the front door without him noticing me. The only other exit I could think of was out my bedroom window, upstairs. I have upper body strength, but when I was climbing out onto the gutter railing I realized it wasn't stable due to years of being unkempt. I was too late by then. My fingers slipped and I plummeted to the hard, damp earth.

When I finally landed my breath was nowhere to be found.

That's what it felt like now, as I stand at the mouth of the cemented pathway. It was like an invisible figure hit me in the chest and knocked the air from my lungs; like I was hitting the ground all over again.

People say that the adrenaline, when it pumps through your veins, makes everything slow down, or make things a blur. Not in this situation though. The events are going as they happen in normal time, but it's my thought process that is fast and hurried.

Without thinking, I scream.

"HARRY!"  

Six pairs of eyes, ranging from ludicrous glares to some jaws dropping from the sight of me, zero in on the spot I stand on. The man with the gun still has it tight in his grasp, and looks me over once, and then again. I stumble under their harsh gazes, but I seek Harry's the most. Once my eyes have locked with Harry's, all of his face frowns; his lips, cheeks, and brows.

One of the men, the darker toned one but equally as masculine─ if not more, moves quickly behind Harry to make sure he wouldn't turn and run. But I know that Harry wouldn't do that, not with me here at least. I've heard of these kinds of situations while watching the news. Someone will intervene, the victim will run, and the predators will focus their attention on the disrupter for payback. It's obvious that Harry wouldn't leave me here with these men.

I dash into the shadows with hazy thoughts. The dim light provides enough light as I come closer to see the injuries that Harry has received recently, judging from the blood trickling from the cut above his eye. There are bruises that mare his jaw, black and prominent.

"Shay, what are you doing here?" Harry snares, struggling in the shaved-headed man's hold. One of the others takes this opportunity to punch Harry in his torso while he's distracted. He doubles-over, groaning. I gasp in astonishment like it was me who was hit, not Harry. I never thought Harry would be this defenseless.

My brain goes into overdrive as I start towards Harry again, but before I could take two steps forward, another man─ the more lanky one though I could still see he is twice, if not three times bigger than me ─catches me by the arm, pulling it around my back and clamps down on my shoulder. I yelp in pain.

"So this is the infamous Shay," this man with the silver gun mouths twist up in the corner. I shiver from the predator glint that shows in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it, Derek," Harry warns with a low but fierce growl. He tries to escape the stronghold again but fails.

Derek holds the weapon with such an ease that it worries me he won't be scared to shoot if Harry provokes him.

"I don't know, Harry," Derek chuckles, "I'm sure Evan won't be too happy she interrupted our... festivities."

My body goes rigid, like Harry's does. Evan? As in the Evan that was in the studio? As in Evan that Harry beat up in the club just last night? Harry is watching Derek with an intense gaze, and I'm surprised Derek hasn't burned on the spot he stands.