Cleo Horan
Harry fucking Styles.
My night was ruined the moment that son of a bitch took his mask off and looked at me with those enigmatic green eyes. I could never forget those eyes, they reminded me of his father's, even though they were lighter. It was enough to send a chill down my spine and trigger all of my instincts.
That was the last thing I could ever imagine to happen, and now I was so fucking alert and angry that it was almost five a.m. and I hadn't slept.
I was on my second pack of cigarettes and simply sitting on my couch, only the lights from the kitchen were on so I wasn't completely in the dark before the sky became a bit lighter outside the window. I enjoyed the darkness though, it made it easier for me to think as I inhaled more smoke, ignoring the soreness in my throat.
I kept replaying the recent events over and over again inside my mind and I just couldn't stop.
I ran as fast as I could when I saw that security guard because I knew I'd get in a lot of trouble if more people saw me. If Harry was attending that auction it meant a lot of his father's friends and clients were there... so I was in enemy territory.
I wondered if my mother knew or even if our new client knew about that, or if that place had simply been picked because no one would suspect a thing.
Well, now they had a reason to do so.
The bloody mess I left behind was enough to make anyone curious about what happened. But I just had a feeling Harry wouldn't tell anyone about me... no, he'd take matters into his own hands and I should expect retaliation. It would be what I would do, and I also didn't plan on telling anyone what happened tonight.
My mother would annoy me and remind me how reckless and stupid I was being, and I didn't fucking care.
This was a sign that I'd gotten another chance to kill that sick bastard.
And I wouldn't miss next time, I was going to be expecting him now. I was so close, though... I was about to reach for another knife to stab him right in the heart when we were interrupted, and I knew that I hadn't hit anywhere too serious when I stabbed the side of his body, even though he was bleeding a lot.
I hoped that he at least passed out and felt a lot of pain, but he was a psychopath. He literally pulled the knife away from me by grabbing the blade and cutting his own hand, probably trying to scare me off.
But I wasn't scared and I had him wrapped around my fingers because he was way too easy to read. He was slower than me, but stronger... I had enough time to analyze the way he moved his body, especially when he roughly pressed me against the wall and used his leg to stop me from reaching my knives. He was careful and attentive, but predictable nonetheless.
Men were all the same, I knew touching them delicately while they were being aggressive was a distraction, which was why I did it when he was strangling me.
The bruises I had around my neck were ugly and deep red, the imprint of his fingers could be easily seen and it was a constant reminder of my hatred for him. And I'd have to wear turtlenecks until it faded so people wouldn't ask about it, but now I was wearing just a thin tank top and underwear, after a cold shower to wash off Harry's blood and touch from my skin.
I'd nearly lost my voice too, the pain me in my throat was helping keep m awake, along with the bruise on my stomach where his elbow hit me very hard. I'd hurt him more, I knew that... but the damage he caused was more than I should've allowed. I was lucky to find a way out before anyone could see me at the auction, and leaving through the back meant I had to take off my heels so I could run faster and reach somewhere safer to call an Uber again.
I let my anger get the best of me and that almost killed me, if I hadn't figure out a way to throw him off, he would've strangled me to death with no hesitation. Although I got way more reaction than I expected when I asked him to go harder. I could take more, I was used to the pain... he had no idea how much I'd improved since the last time we ran into each other. I had a lot of practice and way more experience, he didn't know me at all.
But well, he had a gun and he shot me two years ago, that was pretty different from tonight because he wasn't armed.
And I just knew I'd see him again very soon, and this time I'd know what to expect. I didn't recognize him at first because of the long hair, and he also looked a bit different.
He was more muscular but nothing excessive, his posture made him seem taller but maybe it was just my memory playing tricks on me. His expression though... he looked unmerciful and callous, with no compassion at all behind his eyes. Just like me.
I wondered if he was quick to remember me, but he seemed momentarily confused too. I couldn't believe he was the one who caught my attention in the front yard, I literally checked him out and thought he looked hot, that was disgusting.
This was a shock to both of us and it was very clear that the time apart had only intensified the anger and hate consuming us inside. He still believed my father had something to do with his mother's death, and I still wanted his father to pay for killing mine.
Harry watched when my father was on his knees and got shot in the head. He did nothing and he watched... and he knew I was there.
I was alone with my dad at our vacation home by the beach, waiting for my brother and my mother, and we made the mistake of not being armed. Desmond and Harry acted too fast and caught us off guard, I just remember being hit in the head very fucking hard and I passed out.
When I woke up I was tied up in a chair, a few feet away from my father. My head was spinning and my ears rang even louder as the seconds passed, I knew I had a concussion. I was in a lot of pain to process what was happening but I could see when they dragged my father to the center of the living room, forcing him to kneel on the floor before Desmond simply pulled out his gun and shot him, with no hesitation or any last words.
An eye for an eye, as they say. But I refused to believe this with no evidence linking my father to Harry's mother's death. Nothing but a single witness that could've been paid by Desmond so he could get my dad out of the picture.
That would be a smart move to win more territory and clients, and given the way Desmond had quickly found a teenage girlfriend, you can say I didn't buy this shit.
My mother and my brother still weren't sure what to believe, and I'd been so fucking pissed at them for not completely trusting my dad since the beginning. Truth was, no one ever knew what my father did or where he was involved... no one knew the whole truth.
But Desmond didn't kill me that day, Harry only hit me in the head one more time before they left, so I didn't have any time to think about the fact I'd just seen my father die right in front of me.
I woke up two days later in the hospital.
Yeah, it was very hard to discern what was real and what wasn't from the painful memories I had, but the one thing I would never forget was the cruel look in their eyes when they killed my father... no questions asked at all.
It was the reason why I was secretly terrified of guns, I could never hold one again without having a panic attack, and I'd tried several times while I was alone. I still kept my father's gun in my closet though, no one knew about that but Niall.
So it was simple: I was going to kill Harry and his dad. I would make sure to keep my brother and my mother safe and I had time to come up with a good plan to keep my name excluded from this narrative.
No one had to know it was me, I didn't mind.
But now I also had to focus on my new job, which was going to take up a lot of my time. So I had to get it done as soon as possible so I could focus on Harry.
I'd already connected the flash drive to my backup computer, where I didn't have any personal files whatsoever in case there was spyware or anything like that. I'd learned to be careful in this line of business, especially when the client was this shady. Most of them never even revealed their identities, only paid.
And I got the job done.
It was going to be extremely hard to focus because of Harry, he was poisoning my mind. All I could think about was our encounter and the adrenaline was still running high, I had to stop myself multiple times from going after him or discovering where he lived.
But I decided to open the files on the flash drive instead and I spent long hours reading the information in them, trying to get to know my next four victims.
When I realized, the sun was already bright and it past nine a.m., and I'd nearly finished another pack of cigarettes, which didn't help relieve the pain in my throat at all.
I got lost reading the files, there were pictures and pretty much every type of information you could have on a person. Blood type, addresses, names of their kids, workplaces... someone had done a very good job at hiring a private detective for this, I literally only had to find them and kill them.
They were all men, around fifty years old or so, but they weren't all from around New York. I'd have to travel for this job, which kinda sucked a bit.
They were wealthy and CEOs of their own companies, but I didn't recognize any of them.
I was going to ask my mother about this later, maybe something would seem familiar to her. But this was a regular job, I killed who I had to kill without asking questions, and I was very good at that.
Maybe I could start with target number one: Mark Tomlinson.
He was from New York and an avid customer of another strip club I'd heard about before, it was a pretty famous place because it was also a nightclub. Another predictable man, he'd probably go there after work and it would be so easy for me to kill him.
I knew June was friends with one of the girls who worked there, so it was even better to get more info about him and easier ways to get him alone in there. It was a place where a lot of Desmond buddies visited, and I wondered if Mark was his friend.
My phone started ringing and it scared the shit out of me, forcing me to snap out of my thoughts and I saw my mother's number on the screen. Fuck, I'd forgotten to call her. I reached for my phone, just now realizing how raw my knuckles looked from punching Harry's face. Being ambidextrous sure came in handy last night.
"Yes, Catherine." I sighed, standing up from the couch and making my way to the kitchen so I could prepare my coffee, I decided I'd stay in my apartment today so I could plan what I would do next.
"I'm your mother, don't call me like that, Cleodora." She huffed and I repressed the urge to snap at her for using my full name, I was tired. "How was the auction? You didn't call, did everything work out?"
"Yes, mom..." I took a very deep breath as I leaned against the counter, ignoring the pain irradiating from my stomach, enough to remind me of piercing green eyes once again. "Everything worked out perfectly."