Fifty Six.

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Harry's POV

I'm fuming by the time I get to the hotel, white hot fury coursing through me and blinding me completely. I don't bother speaking to the receptionist since I know exactly where his room is and am running out of patience.

I haven't felt this way in a long time, like I could punch through a wall and not feel a thing. My anger blocks out all my senses and pushes me to expel it in anyway possible, violence being the easiest. Even the night I got drunk at Niall's and came home in a fury because Skylar was out with Zayn did I not feel like this.

No, this is different. This is the fresh rage from my teenage years, the very same uncontrollable temper that got me into fight after fight, multiple visits to the hospital for stitches and casts. Even though every scar has healed, the real scar is this temper and not being able to control it. Evidently that one is still with me.

I'm everything but foaming at the mouth when I reach his door. I'm seething with anger and my fists are clenched so tightly I can't feel them. Adrenaline has been of ample supply and keeps coming, mixing with my boiling blood and being rushed through my racing heart. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out the voice of my conscience.

I lift my fist to bang on the door loudly, using the side on my fist instead of my knuckles. Liam doesn't answer, probably put off by the banging on his door. I sigh, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath in.

"Liam, it's Harry," I call through the door, trying my best to keep my voice steady and not give away my fury. It takes a few seconds, but soon I hear the lock click on the door and it opens.

Without a second thought, my fist connects with Liam's jaw, he's taken by surprise and falls to the floor. I storm into the room and slam the door, making sure to lock it. The adrenaline is pumping through me, the thrill of having my hands produce so much strength and cause so much damage fueling me to cause more damage. I haven't felt this rush in years and I know I shouldn't, but I like it.

I harness my strength and lift Liam off the floor by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. The blood coming from his mouth satisfies me, and pull him away from the wall only to slam him back harder.

"You liar," I hiss through clenched teeth, my face only inches from his. "I don't know why I ever trusted you."

Liam's eyes are wild, shocked and unprepared for my violence. As soon as the words leave my mouth he clues in and his lips curl into a wicked smile, his eyes narrowing and piercing the last of my sanity.

"I don't know why you ever did either. I thought you'd lost your edge Styles, but clearly you haven't," he almost laughs, more amused than he should be. I slam him against the wall again, a picture frame falling to the floor and smashing to pieces. I'd like to see Liam smashed to pieces, it'd be so easy. He's not even fighting back.

The energy coursing through me right now is unbelievable, fueled by my anger and my pain of being betrayed. I can feel the heat in my face and the tension in my body, my every muscle flexed and ready to defend myself or inflict more damage.

"Tell me," I spit. "Tell me everything. You know Steve Parker and you lied about not knowing who send you the design. Is he a partner?"

Liam smiles again and shakes his head, my urge to hurt him increasing by the second.

"He's a partner. I don't see how you didn't figure it out sooner -"

"Spit it out!" I shout in his face, but he doesn't even flinch. He lifts his hand to wipe some of the blood from his lip and sighs.

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