Brutality | Harry Styles

Chapter 16

Snow had begun to fall in the city, blanketing the sidewalks with a thin sheen of sparkling flakes. It shifted and turned slushy beneath Harry's shoes. A fresh shower of the stuff settled atop the hood of his sweatshirt and dotted his eyelashes. It was cold, but not frigid, and he was caught by surprise when he almost wiped out on a sheet of ice just outside the door to the warehouse.

Newly frustrated, Harry yanked on the handle he had used to keep himself from falling and stomped into the entrance, slamming the door behind him. He brushed his hood back and shook out his hair as he pushed through the inner door. Only one line of lights was on over the center of the room. The ring was lit, but the edges of the room fell into shadows. Two men were swinging at each other on the platform. A number of others lined the perimeter on the ground, some watching, others busy with mittwork.

"Ah, there's the man I've been waiting for!"

Harry looked up to find Scott Dent in the ring. His arms lowered when he caught sight of Harry and he was rewarded with a swift punch to the jaw.

"Goddammit, Joey!" Scott shouted, shoving the other man back a couple of steps. He pressed a glove to his sore jaw and waved Joey out of the ring. "Styles, get in here."

Harry dropped his bag at a corner of the ring and began stripping his hoodie and shoes. He tied his hair back into a quick knot and pulled his gloves from the duffel bag before climbing beneath the ropes. Joey lowered himself to the ground with an agitated huff as Harry took his spot.

"Tryin' t'get knocked out again?" Harry asked, slipping his already taped hands into his gloves and tightening them around his wrists. "Or did your nose heal crooked an' yeh want me t'straighten it out?"

"Eh, you got lucky," Scott said with a shrug.

"Lucky, my ass." Harry shook out his arms and stretched his foot until his ankle cracked. "Got a win count yeh would kill for, old man."

Scott chuckled. He smacked his gloves together and took a step forward. "Show me what you've got, then, Mr. Brit."

Harry brought his arms up as he moved toward Scott. He easily blocked a couple of jabs before either of them spoke again.

"So, how are things with your girl?" Scott asked. He took advantage of Harry's shocked pause and delivered a hard kick to his ribs. "You hit that? Seems like a little spitfire."

Harry stumbled with the force of the blow and clutched his glove to his side before righting himself. He stretched his abdomen, lifting his arms again. "Don' know who yeh're talkin' about, but probably."

Scott dodged an angry throw toward his face. "That little blonde girl that's always hanging around you."

"Really don' know who yeh're on about. Could yeh be more specific?" Harry sucked in a sharp breath and lunged at Scott, sending a glove hard into the man's abdomen.

Scott heaved a heavy sigh and took a step backward. He tilted his chin back to get more air, gritting his teeth. The area just below his ribcage stung with the expansion of his lungs. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. You know, the girl that got you into all that trouble with Goodman."

Harry grunted, waiting for Scott to get back into position so he could hit him again. He found it therapeutic, especially during their current conversation.

"Yeah, everybody's heard about that mess. Better have fucked her, for all the trouble she caused you."

Harry hummed. He could feel his own blood boiling beneath his skin but he tried to keep himself at bay.

"If you're done with her maybe I could show her how real men do it."

Harry's mind strayed for a moment to flashes of Melody stretched out naked on his bed, kneeled on his couch with her thighs wrapped around his face, pressed up against the wall like the very first time he touched her. His ears rang with the sound of his name on her tongue. Then it all shifted and it was Scott in his place, his name falling from Melody's mouth. Harry's lungs deflated and he felt something painful snap in his gut.