Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 39

"Happy to see me?" He asks, grinning devilishly.

"No-"

"Actually, I was just talking about you." Zayn and I speak simultaneously. He glances down at me, and I know better than to meet his icy stare. The feeling to rush to my best friend is overwhelming, and I can't stop glancing between her and the devil himself, standing in front of me.

Michael cocks an eyebrow, smiling wider. "Really? And what's the special occasion that you would dare speak my name?"

"First, why do you have Ashley tied up to a chair?" I ask calmly, not wanting to provoke him into doing anything extreme.

"Well, I came looking for you. And she wouldn't tell me so naturally, I did what I do best." He shrugs, walking over to her. His pearly gray eyes are wild, and vacant. Something doesn't fit right, and I'm almost certain he's on drugs at this very moment. She keeps shaking her head at me, and her screams are muffled behind the tape over her mouth.

"Now that I see who you're with," he points and smiles at Zayn, "I guess I don't need to have her like this anymore, do I?" He cups her face gently, before slapping her across the face.

"Stop!" I lunge for him, but Zayn restricts me, his hands tight around my wrists.

"Oh shut up. She's fine, she just needs to learn her place." He scoffs, and leans in to her ear, whispering too low for me to hear.

"Why?"

"Come again?" He smiles, his lip curling upward.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I croak, a tear running down my cheek.

"A little dramatic there my dear. I'm not doing anything to you, actually. I came here simply looking for you." He coos, standing up.

"You found me. Now what?" I sniffle, sucking in my worst fears and putting up a tough front.

"Now," he ponders his words, chuckling like a mad man to himself, "I guess I can leave. I just enjoy watching your entire life unravel in front of you, and being able to taunt you ever second."

This man was once a father to me?

He tucked me in at night if my mum was out late, and fed me breakfast in bed when I was sick? It feels almost as if I'm looking at a completely different man, and I should be fearful.

"Michael, are you on drugs?" I whisper, stepping closer to him.

"Do not call me Michael!" He shouts, shoving the stack of textbooks off the wooden desk next to him. Zayn pulls me back, and steps in front of me.

"That's enough." His chin is held high, displaying authority.

"Oh, you're tough now? Tell me Zayn, would you hurt her father?" He grins, stumbling sideways.

"If you acted like a father, I wouldn't lay a finger on you." He states.

"I will always be her father, whether you, or her" he peers over Zayns shoulder and looks directly at me, "like it or not."

"It's time you leave Michael." I step from behind Zayn. I glance back at him, and motion towards Ashley who's violent sobs are still muffled by duct tape. He eyes me wearily, before rushing over to help her.

"Funny, you're bitch mother told me that plenty of times when she was alive." He awkwardly points at me, leaning on the desk with his free hand. "Glad I took care of that burden." He laughs, and I feel my body boil over it's breaking point.

I quickly step to him, and slap him across the face. He stumbles backward, crashing into the wall and presses his hand to his face.

"You little bitch." He scoffs, rubbing the subtle pink mark on his cheek.