Elaina Basset
three days later...
Thomas, Harry's father, has invited me out to coffee today.
I found out about this invitation when Zayn came back from the bar, storming into the villa. I asked him what had happened, and he told me that Harry's father waltzed into the bar and asked Zayn for my contact information.
The only reason that Harry and I's relationship cover wasn't blown was because Zayn immediately called Harry and asked why Thomas wants to see me. Harry was quick to say that Thomas wants to work on making amends, and that starts with getting in with the people in Harry's life, and since Thomas knows me the least...he wants to have the chance to talk.
Zayn was skeptical, and so was I. Suddenly Harry's father just wants back into his life...it feels off.
However, after talking to Harry, I realized that it might just be easier to go get a drink with his father. Maybe he's really trying to change.
Zayn only agreed to this under the condition of he drives me to the meeting spot and then picks me up. He told me that I'm to call him immediately if something feels weird.
So that brings me to now, where I sit in Aldo's café, my foot tapping anxiously under the booth table as I wait for Harry's father to show up.
The smell of milky coffee fills my senses as Aldo brings me a mug.
"Wouldn't be shocked if he doesn't show." Aldo speaks. "Don't put much faith in him."
I shake my head, "I'm not. I'm giving him five more minutes, then I'm gone."
Aldo smirks. "Cut that down to 30 seconds and Harry would be so proud." he nudges my shoulder gently and I chuckle as he walks back behind the counter.
Harry's been away for 3 days now. We've been calling and texting as much as we can, but he can't tell me much at the risk of someone listening or tapping into the phone. From what I've heard though, the job is going well and he'll be home sooner than I know it. I worry about him every second that I don't hear from him, worried that something went wrong and I won't know, but I'm trying to keep my mind clear and positive.
The door chimes, like it has every other minute since I've got here. I look down at my drink, watching the steam rise.
I'm anxious about seeing Thomas. I'm not really sure what his plan is. The only thing keeping me comfort is that Harry is aware this is happening and I'm not doing it behind his back.
My eyes drift away from my drink when I feel a presence approach my booth. My stomach ends up turning when I look up and faintly see Harry's features in an older, withered face.
"Elaina?" Thomas smiles. "Sorry I'm late."
I press my lips into a line. "I wasn't sure what you drink so I didn't order you anything."
"That's okay." he looks over at the counter, Aldo staring him down with a towel over his shoulder and hands planted on the counter. "Large black coffee, please."
Aldo stays silent, watching Thomas closely as he sits down before going to make his drink of request.
"Black coffee." I acknowledge. "That's what Harry drinks."
Thomas nods with a chuckle. "Well, the Styles men don't really come across as latte guys anyway."
I don't respond, watching Thomas take off his jean jacket and place it next to him on the booth. "I gotta say, I really appreciate you meeting me." he tells me.
I give a little shrug. "Well, I'm doing it for Harry mostly."
I don't see a point in being fake friendly to him. I've gotta be tough until I know he's trustworthy.
He dips his head down with a chuckle. "Well I appreciate that too."
"So, what's the deal? Why come back into his life after so long?" I question, leaning back in the booth.
"Diving right into it?" he smirks, a familiar smirk that I can't help but see Harry in. "We haven't even ordered food yet."
"I'm curious."
"We've got nothing but time, Elaina. Actually, I wanted to get to know more about you." he says.
There's something about his tone and his mere atmosphere that I can't trust. I don't know what it is, maybe the fact that Harry has a rough past with him, but I'm closed off. I'm wary.
"Like what?" I ask.
He shrugs, glancing out the window with his hands folded atop the table. "Oh, I don't know, really. What you're about. Your passions. Your history." he looks at me.
I clench my jaw. "Well I'm here because I wanted to pursue a painting career, I told you that at Angela's."
"Right, yes." he nods. "You wanted to go to Paris."
"That's the goal."
"Still?"
"I believe so." I respond.
"So," he rubs his chin. "Why didn't you go straight to Paris? Why'd you stop here?"
I furrow my brows. "I...I had a place to stay here. Zayn was very generous to let me move in while I found my footing." I explain. "I didn't have the means to head straight to Paris in such a short amount of time."
He nods as if he gets it.
"You were in a rush to get out of Denver, I assume?" he asks.
I'm having flashbacks to when Harry questioned me in Zayn's kitchen on one of the first nights I knew him.
"Kind of, yes."
"Why?"
Yeah, I'm over this.
I jut my lip and shrug once again. "Same reason you left your son in Manchester...to get away."
His lip lifts and he leans back in the booth with a laugh. "Look, Elaina I'm not trying to grill you here. Just trying to get to know my son's girlfriend."
"Harry and I are happy. We take care of each other." I cross my arms as I rest my back against the cushion.
His brow raises. "Are you implying that he doesn't need me."
"He's done alright without you so far." I say.
I'm a little shocked with myself at how cold I'm being, but I feel no warmth when it comes to Thomas. Being feisty will humble him a little. Maybe he'll realize just how badly he fucked up as a father.
"Harry is slowly starting to accept me again. Don't make this about you and what you think is best for him." Thomas states, leaning in. "Remember, blood is thick. You may be an important part of his life right now but I'll forever be his dad."
Harry has never once referred to Thomas as 'dad'. It's clear as to why he hasn't, because Thomas hasn't been much of a dad at all. He hardly even deserves the father title in my opinion. What sort of 'father figure' has he been?
I look down at my lap, looking at my skirt as I try to decide whether I should be polite or not. I think of Harry, and I think about what he's going through and if I really am making this about me. I've seen him break down over the man in front of me, I've witnessed firsthand how all the trauma resurfaces when he's in front of his father. Even the thought of how damaged this man has caused Harry to be makes me seethe.
So, fuck it.
Eyes down at my lap, I just chuckle to myself with my arms crossed and I shake my head.
"Something funny?"
I look up, my shoulders moving as I laugh and meet his eyes.
"I just think you're a pathetic excuse of a man." I state.
Harsh? Yes. Deserved? Yes.
Being with Harry has stopped my filters from holding me back. I don't feel unhinged, but in a moment like this, I feel angry enough to not take shit.
I watch as Thomas' face drops. Any smugness disappeared and his face fell into disarray at the fact that I even spoke such words to him.
"Oh yeah?" He raises his brow.
I believe he wants to challenge me...to see how far I'll take it. But I'm not here to fight a grown man, I'm here because I care about Harry.
I nod. "Whatever you and Harry want to work out is between yourselves, but to me, you'll never be more than the father who left him behind."
He scoffs, leaning forward. "And who's to say you'll be in his life long enough to see what we work out, hmm?"
Asshole.
"If it happens like that, I can't stop it." I tell him. "But I'm in his life for now, and I'll do anything to protect him while I'm around."
I meant every word of that.
Thomas reaches for his jacket. "Alright then. We'll see how that goes for you." he shakes his head with clear disapproval as he stands up and places cash on the table. "You have a fantastic rest of your day, Elaina."
He storms out, the few people in the cafe watching as it happens.
As soon as he's out the door, I lean back in the booth and suck in a deep inhale of oxygen that I couldn't find before. I feel hot, a little shaken from the interaction but I didn't let myself feel it until this moment.
Aldo is urgently over at my booth the second Thomas is out as well. He leans over the table, hand on my shoulder.
"Do I need to go shoot him in the kneecap? Are you alright?" he asks me with genuine concern.
I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair. "I'm fine. But yeah, he's a dick."
Aldo nods. "Yup. I've never even met the guy but he's everything Styles described him as."
I exhale. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom and call Zayn to pick me up."
Aldo pats my shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything. I'm proud of you, kiddo." he says. I give him a small grin as I shuffle out of the booth and head down towards the washrooms.
I stop in the hallway right before the washroom, dialling Harry's number and breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.
I feel a bit panicky, but I'm making myself remain calm the best I can until I hear Harry's voice.
Leaning against the wall, I wait for the ringing to come to an end, my eyes closed as I try to take in the coolness of the painted brick.
"Hey, you."
"Hi." I breathe out in relief. "I'm so happy to hear your voice."
"You alright?" his voice raises in slight concern.
I rub the back of my hand over my forehead. "I just finished the coffee meeting with your father." I tell him.
"Already?"
"Yeah...it ended sort of abruptly." my hand comes back down to my side.
"Uh oh..."
"I was kinda harsh on him..." I murmur. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you'll be hearing about it—but I couldn't stop myself."
I was expecting him to sound at least a little disappointed that it didn't go well, but instead, I hear him scuffle a laugh.
"Good job." he says.
My brows furrow. "Really? You're not mad?"
"Mad?" he laughs. "No. He's a dickhead, I'm glad you put him in his place."
I finally find the ability to laugh back. "Even though you guys are finally connecting again?"
"Still a dickhead." he states.
A breath of relief leaves my lips along with a slight chuckle. Hearing the approval and lightheartedness from Harry helped a lot.
"Okay, well that's all I needed to hear." I say. "Call me again tonight?"
"Absolutely. It's a big night tonight for the job, then tomorrow is the day." he tells me and my brows raise.
"You're feeling good about it?" I ask, hoping for a positive answer.
"Oh yeah. It'll be over and done with and I'll be home." he says with a steadiness in his voice and I smile a bit.
"Okay, baby. I'll talk to you soon."
"Soon, babe. Bye."
"Bye bye." I grin as I speak.
I clutch the phone to my chest for a second after the call ends, feeling lighter. It's crazy that one voice can change the way I feel. I'm more than ready for him to finish this job and get home to me.
I tuck my phone in my purse and push open the bathroom door, looking at my shoes as I walk in.
But, as soon as the door swings closed behind me, I'm aware that the atmosphere has changed dramatically and suddenly.
I look up, immediately feeling off.
The air is thick and the silence is deafening. It's not a natural silence.
I look to my left, and that's when the shoe drops.
On the mirror, freshly and messily written in red ink, I read words that could only be meant to see by my eyes.
'YOU'LL BOTH BLEED.'
Fear.
Instant, disturbing, penetrating fear. It shocks me like electricity, seeing the threatening red letters written across the glass.
It's a threat to me and Harry. That's the only logical answer.
Someone knows about us. Someone wants us dead.
I want to run, but evidence. I need evidence.
I reach for my phone in my purse, needing photo proof to show to the group, my heart racing in my throat.
Slam!
The metal stall door makes a deafening hit against the wall as someone quickly emerges from the stall. It's too quick to process.
I didn't know what I was expecting to see. Maybe the killer who's been stalking us. Maybe Thomas. Maybe both.
But, instead, I'm face to face in this tiny bathroom with a white ski mask and a red smiling face painted over the fabric.
I want to scream, but when his gloved hand reaches for me, I'm suddenly pulled into his chest and his hand clamps down over my mouth. Suffocated by the leather glove, the struggling and fighting is an immediate response from my body. I try everything, flailing my legs and clawing at his arm while he tries to pull me in to the stall.
Adrenaline courses through me, mixing with the pure terror. A part of it felt like a horribly real nightmare, but it wasn't. It was happening.
Being pulled into the stall, I try to grasp on to the side of the door, needing any leverage I could find but my strength was no match for his.
I watch as my white knuckled hands are forcefully ripped from the metal and I'm now in this tiny bathroom stall with a masked man. He throws me up against the wall, the back of my head smashing against the concrete. He's quick to cover my mouth again before I can cry out in pain.
Eyes pinched shut, I whine in agony into his gloved palm. Then, I feel a cold and heavy object right up against the side of my temple, my eyes blinking open and tearing up.
"Shh, be good." the man whispers to me as my eyes gloss over.
I should be tougher. I should be able to fight back.
My head throbs.
My blood is frozen with fear.
I'm alone.
I'm so scared.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know what fate awaits me in here...what he has planned to do with me. I look at his mask, remembering when Harry and I were walking back from Marjorie's shop and we hid from a group with the exact same masks.
I'm doing everything I can not to fully cry. This man's body is pinned up against mine, my arms pinned behind me. I look at him, my brows creased together and my eyes narrow as I force myself not to break down.
I fully understand the vulnerability of my position, but if he knows I know, then I might as well be a mouse in a vulture's talons. Doomed.
I breathe through my nose, my chest puffing.
Someone will walk in. Someone will see this. Someone will help.
I just need to stay calm.
"You scared?" he asks me with a condescending tone that made my chest burn with rage. I glare, trying not to shake.
"Fun's just starting, sweetheart." he says. "Carter can't wait to see you."
Who is Carter?
My mind races as I try to piece something together. I can't think. I haven't heard that name before. Or have I? Everything is a blur.
All I can truly think about is Harry. Just moments ago, I was talking to him, and now I'm here. Did someone get to him right after our conversation? What will he do if something happens to me?
I imagine a horrible scenario where I'm killed in a bathroom stall and he has to find out while being in a different country. He won't forgive himself. Ever. He'll be traumatized all over again.
My eyes get glossy again, a muffled cry leaving my throat.
This was going to catch up with me eventually. I was being naive. I wasn't being cautious enough. I was never safe.
I was never safe...
The bathroom door whips open.
There's no time to think about who's joined us in here, because within seconds the stall door is nearly ripped off it's hinges by none other than Aldo and Zayn.
The rage I see in Zayn's face when he sees me and this man is unexplainable, like a rabid animal who won't leave until blood is shed.
There's no negotiation. No words. Just pure seething red violence.
Zayn shoots the man before he can put a bullet through my head where he had the gun, blood now spilling out of a hole on his thigh. His grip is loosened on me, but it doesn't stop him from trying to grab me when I push him away.
He collapses to his knees but he grabs my calf, nearly knocking me down as well but some strange reflex hits me and I lift my foot to kick, getting him in the jaw.
Discombobulated and disengaged, the masked man shoots aimlessly into the air at the same time I'm crashing into Zayn.
"Get her out of here! Go!" Aldo shouts, Zayn's arm keeping cover over me from the aimless and messy gun shots firing off in the bathroom.
Zayn pulls me out of the bathroom, and he doesn't stop until we're out of the shop completely. It's empty now, people probably rushing out of here as soon as they heard the first shots.
Gripping my hand, Zayn opens the backseat of his car door and ushers me in urgently. My back hits the leather seats and I start to hyperventilate.
"Z-Zayn—"
"Are you hurt!" Zayn's hands grab my face and turn my head to check for any visible injuries.
With my throat tight, I shake my head. "Who...who w-was that?"
"You need to breathe." he tells me and I grab his wrists and pull them off of my face in frustration.
"He said Carter. Who is C-Carter?" I try to inhale and exhale normally.
Zayn's face drops momentarily. It was a subtle drop but I noticed it. He looks over his shoulder. Aldo is running out of the shop now, running to us. He looks unharmed.
"Is she hurt?" Aldo asks the same question that Zayn did.
"We need to get out of here before more of them come." Zayn completely disregards anything else, standing up.
"Go. I'll call some people to help me get rid of the body in the bathroom." Aldo states, rushing us to leave.
My heart is exploding in my chest, my hands in the roots of my hair as Zayn gets into the drivers seat.
He doesn't miss a second, driving off with speed. He looks over at me briefly in the backseat, then extends his hand out behind him for me to hold on to.
I do it.
"We're gonna go to Angela's." he says, trying to sound collected. "Everything will be okay."
Feeling his thumb rub over the back of my hand, I take shaky breaths as the cafe gets further into the distance.
"Zayn..." I murmur, seeing him not fully look at me, but I knew he could hear me.
"Who is Carter?" I question again, in serious desperation.
His lips parted, the movement of his thumb slowing, his gaze turning completely frontwards, he doesn't answer me.
There's barely anything for me to piece together, but one thing I know, is that something has shifted. This is just the beginning.
Things are going to get bad.
//
yea she's right.
so if you didn't notice, in some of the chapter banners I've easter-egged/foreshadowed some red letters. spoiler alert, they spell out "Carter".
more soon...