Corruption™ (Punk Harry Styles)

Chapter Seventy-six

Would you lovelies make yourselves even more lovely (yes, it's possible xD) by checking out my story "Killer" and let me know what you think of it, please? You can find it on my page or by clicking on the external link. Picture of the cover on the side. xx

I pressed my palm against his shoulder once more, but more forcefully.

"Liam, I can't"

"I get it if you're not ready yet... Just know that I'm waiting for you," he interrupted me.

"No, Liam. I'm serious, I can't. It's not right," I stated.

"What's wrong about it?"

"For starters, you're one of Harry's best friends. I can't date a friend of his, it's too...weird. And yeah, there's the fact that I'm not ready for anything anytime soon. And then y-"

Yet again, I was interrupted.

However, this time it was not anyone's fault. My phone was the thing to blame for ringing.

Shit.

My phone is on the other side of Liam on the bed.

Just as I was about to get up, Liam turned and picked up the device. I attempted to snatch it from him, but he then held it out of reach.

"Liam, give me my phone!" I demanded.

"You have some explaining to do first," he said sternly.

"What are you talking about?"

"This," he said as he showed me the caller ID on the phone's screen.

"Why the fuck does it say Harry? You shouldn't be getting calls from him. He's dead."

The breath was taken straight from my lungs at how casually he'd just said his so-called best friend was dead. I knew Harry was fine, but it still hurt me that he was acting that way.

Tears built up in my eyes, my heartbeat became a little faster. Blinking, a tear slipped down my cheek. I was quick to wipe it away, though.

Finally, the phone stopped ringing.

Well, it did for at least ten seconds (approximately).

“Please, Liam, just give me the phone,” I begged.

My voice was unsteady due to the brewing of fresh tears in my eyes.

He looked away for a second and then looked at the screen. The reluctance in his movements as he held the phone out to me was blatantly obvious.

Cautiously, I removed the device from his hand and accepted the call without even looking at the caller ID.

“Gabriella is your name, correct?” a woman’s voice came through the speaker.

“Yes, that’s correct. May I ask who is calling?” I replied.

“You may ask, however, I will not tell. Now, to the point of this phone call.”

There was a rather lengthy pause and I received a sideways glance from Liam during it.

“Okay, Gabriella, let’s see here. Hmm…your boyfriend is Harry Styles and you’re currently residing in Newark, Delaware, but you’re originally from England. Interesting…”

“How do you know all of that?” I asked, becoming quite concerned.

“Well, dear, I know everything about you. All the secrets from your past, everything your real and adoptive Dad hid from you, what happened to your mother, how you became hospitalised, what your blood type is, why Harry’s been keeping Jason away from you, and so much more.”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Who I am is a mystery that you’ll have to solve. However, there is something more important you should be doing right now…”

“Which is what? Hanging up?”

The woman chuckled, “Now that would be very stupid, wouldn’t it Gabriella?”

I let out a frustrated breath of air and closed my eyes to try and calm myself somewhat.

“All you need to do is figure out a little riddle, but you must do it fast or there will be serious consequences. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Four green eyes; two watching the darkness, the others clouded with liquid. Chemicals fill the space, but there isn’t much room. Something must be gone, too many fumes. Slowly the drops fall, like the sound of the tears from out in the hall.”

“Is that it?” I asked.

“That is it. Good luck.”

The call was ended by the woman as I repeated the riddle in my head.

“Where are there lots of chemicals but not much room for them?” I questioned out loud.

“Um…I don’t know. I’d guess a hospital,” Liam responded.

Oh my God.

“Liam, come on, I need you to drive me to Christiana Hospital, now,” I ordered whilst grabbing a jacket and quickly putting on sweatpants.

“Why?” he quizzed, following me down the steps and out the door.

“Harry’s there.”