TW: guns, and blood
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"Wow," Harry breathes as I step out of the bathroom. "You look incredible."
My cheeks flush as his darkening eyes rake over my body, taking in the red, satin gown hugging my curves. The top half of the dress is tight, the straight neckline low-cut, to accentuate my breasts just enough to catch attention, but not too revealing, while the soft fabric pools around my legs to brush against the floor.
Harry hums in approval when his gaze catches on the slit that runs all the way up to my hip, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth when I reposition to show him that I'm not wearing anything underneath.
"Naughty girl," he tsks, taking slow strides towards me in his pressed, black tux.
My breath hitches, and I begin to wonder if forfeiting the underwear was a bad idea when the smell of his cologne hits my nose. He looks good, really good, and the way he's staring at me as if he wants to devour me sends a rush of heat to the apex of my thighs.
After several agonizing seconds, he finally towers over me, and I swallow harshly when he brings his knuckles up to trace the curve of my breast where it spills slightly over my top.
"No panties, hm?" He asks lowly, his hand falling to dip under the dress where his fingers inch dangerously close to my core.
"I didn't want the lines showing," I choke out before he reaches my slit, already soaked with my arousal, and a low groan erupts from his throat.
"Really?" He mutters, leaning next to my ear so his words send a chill up my spine. I nod mindlessly as his middle finger brushes against my clit, and I'm forced to grip onto his strong arms as my knees threaten to buckle. "Are you sure it wasn't to tease me, princess?"
I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind when I made the decision. Though, to be fair, he's ripped almost all of my good underwear. If anything, I was thinking of future, panty-less me, and the money I would be saving.
"Not everything is about you, you know," I breathe, earning a raspy chuckle from him before he places a quick kiss on my cheek, and pulls away.
The loss of contact causes me to whimper, and I watch with parted lips as he brings his fingers, slick with my arousal, up to his mouth to suck the wetness off with a hum. "Your pussy says otherwise," he smirks, my cheeks burning from the anticipation low in my belly. "And as much as I would love to punish you for the attitude, I'll have to save it for later. We've got to get going."
I clench my hands into loose fists at my sides, huffing in frustration at his teasing. His smirk grows into a wide grin, the appearance of his dimple causing all of my annoyance to melt away, only to be replaced by a rush of butterflies.
I roll my eyes at my body's betrayal before stomping towards the door of his apartment, his laughter following close behind me. "You're insufferable," I mutter.
Sunny invited the both of us to a party tonight at a club in Hollywood. Really, it was to make a deal, but they told us they would put us on the guest list, and that we were free to enjoy ourselves once we finished our business.
The thought made me a bit nervous at first, seeing as though Sunny terrified the hell out of me the last time I saw them, but Harry insisted they wouldn't be dumb enough to try anything with that many people around.
I hope to god that he's right.
Harry pulls up to a sleek, black building downtown, the name PULSE lit up in neon blue above the front entrance. A line of people is nearly wrapping around the block, while an angry-looking bouncer stands at the front, staring at the clipboard in his hands like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
A valet attendant greets us only seconds after we arrive, and Harry gives the young man his keys in exchange for a numbered slip of paper.
"Sunny said to give them our names when we arrived, and we'd be let in," Harry says, placing his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to the entrance.
When we reach the bouncer, who's wearing a neat, black suit and a permanent crease between his brows, he doesn't even bother to look at us.
"You on the list?" He grumbles.
"Harry Styles and Katie White," Harry responds firmly, his hand finding its way to mine where he laces our fingers together. The small gesture eases some of the worry settling in my stomach.
The light, teasing energy from earlier is gone, replaced by the weight of what we're stepping into. Any number of things could go wrong, and I can only assume that my luck of escaping dangerous situations will run out eventually, which leads me into worrying that tonight could be the night.
It's only a matter of time.
The man flips the top page on the clipboard over, his eyes scanning the list of names in front of him, before making two, quick marks on the paper, and dropping it to his side. With his free hand, he grabs hold of the door to push it open. "Go ahead," he says, stepping aside for us to enter.
I offer him a small smile in thanks, to which he responds with a short nod, before allowing Harry to lead me inside.
The main floor is huge, much larger than the one at The Red Room, meaning there's space for twice as many people. It's packed wall-to-wall with partygoers, all either dancing or chatting amongst themselves, while the DJ near the back plays EDM loudly through the speakers.
"Where do you think they are?" I ask Harry over the noise, my eyes scanning the room for the short, black-haired powerhouse in question.
"They said to meet them upstairs in the VIP lounge," he says, nodding toward the spiral staircase in the back corner.
With a nod, I follow him as he pushes through the thick crowd of people, shooting daggers at anyone who bumps into me. I roll my lips into my mouth to bite back a chuckle.
His protectiveness never fails to amuse me. Though I found it intimidating at first, now it's strangely endearing.
Just as we reach the top of the stairs, a loud voice breaks through the noise from downstairs. "Katie!" Sunny shouts, walking towards us with their arms open, and a wide grin on their face. "So good to see you."
They're decked out in another flattering pantsuit, this time wearing black, with matching heels. Every step they take towards us shows off the subtle shimmer of the fabric, the contrast with their fair complexion making them look ethereal.
I'm caught off guard when they reach us, and pull me into a tight embrace. Awkwardly, I reach my arms around to pat them on the back, and I catch Harry holding back an amused smile at the action. I shoot him a quick glare as Sunny pulls away, which only makes his smile, and my annoyance, grow.
"You must be Harry," Sunny purrs, holding their hand out for him to shake.
"It's nice to meet you," Harry nods, taking Sunny's hand as they look him up and down in interest.
The action causes my chest to tighten with jealousy, and I instinctively loop my arm with his. If Sunny picks up on the implication, they don't show it before they turn to walk back to the small group of people in the lounge.
"Please, come sit down," Sunny suggests, waving their hand toward the table full of different bottles of liquor, and champagne. "Have a drink. Make yourselves comfortable."
I look up at Harry, and he nods his head towards them before leading me over.
The five well-dressed men, all lounging in the C-shaped booth around the table, eye us intently as we make our way over. Their curious gazes cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand up, as if my body is screaming at me to get out of here.
I swallow the lump in my throat and lift my chin in an attempt to appear more confident than I feel.
"So," Sunny says, taking a seat in one of the blue, leather armchairs near the booth. They cross one leg over the other, and lean back as we take our own seats across from them. "I'm assuming you brought what I asked for."
"The bag is in the trunk," Harry responds, pulling the paper from the valet attendant out of his pocket to hand to them.
"Lovely," Sunny coos, holding his gaze as they take the number. "The money has already been deposited into your account. I can't thank you enough for meeting me on such short notice. My client is very grateful."
They had texted us just last night about the party, and Harry begrudgingly had to make a late-night trip to Jay's to get what they'd asked for. A brief rush of annoyance hits me at the way they imply that we had any choice in the matter, but I shove it down and smother it with a forced smile.
"Of course," I bite out. "How could we say no to an offer like this? Thank you for putting us on the guest list."
"Oh, it's not a problem," they wave me off. "That's what friends do."
I narrow my eyes at the term.
"Friends" is quite an overstatement, seeing as though both times we've met I was literally forced into it. Still, I nod my head stiffly.
"Who's your client?" Harry breaks the tense silence as he rests his hand on my knee, squeezing gently in reassurance.
"Camden Taylor," they state, my eyes widening. Harry stiffens beside me, clearly as awestruck by the information as I am.
Camden Taylor is one of the richest men in the country. He owns half of the nightclubs in Southern California, as well as hundreds of hotels across the United States, and even more in Europe. It doesn't surprise me that he wanted to buy enough drugs to take out the majority of LA, but it does surprise me that we are the ones that sold them to him.
What the hell is my life?
"He isn't here tonight, if that's what you're wondering," one of the men sitting in the booth laughs. He looks to be in his late-thirties, with dark, perfectly coiffed hair, a shadow of stubble lining his jaw, and the most piercing blue eyes I've ever seen. "He never comes to his own parties."
"Then what's the point?" Harry asks, lifting a brow.
"They're just a reminder," the man shrugs, making me furrow my brows; he seems to notice my confusion when he looks at me. "He has a lot of enemies."
"Marcus, please," Sunny hisses, sending him a glare.
My mouth goes dry, and I force myself to nod my head in understanding.
Of course a man like Camden has enemies, but the idea of having to throw lavish parties with unlimited drugs and alcohol just to prove a point causes a ball of anxiety to form in my gut. It makes me wonder what's really going on behind the scenes of these "parties."
Suddenly, Sunny's phone begins to ring, and they slide it out of their pocket to look at the screen. With an annoyed huff, they stand from their seat, and look at us with an irritated expression. "If you'll excuse me, I have to take this. Please, go enjoy yourselves."
Without another word, they take off down a hallway near the stairs with their phone to their ear, muttering angrily to whoever is on the other line.
"So," the man who spoke earlier, Marcus, says, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his glass as the others around him seem to get lost in their own conversations. He flicks his attention towards me, my mouth going dry as his gaze lingers just a little too long. Harry seems to notice as his hand grips my knee tighter. "How did you two meet Sunny?"
"It's a long story," Harry says lowly through gritted teeth, earning a deep chuckle from Marcus. "If you'll excuse us, we're going to go get a drink from the bar."
"Of course," Marcus nods. "It was lovely to meet you, Katie."
His eyes rake over my body without a hint of shame as we stand from our seats, the gesture causes my lip to curl in disgust as Harry ushers me away from him
"Prick," Harry growls as we walk out of earshot. "He better stay the fuck away from you before I-"
"Baby," I cut him off, placing my hand carefully on his arm. The action seems to shake him from his rage, because his eyes soften as they meet mine. "It's okay. I'm okay. Let's just try to have a good time, and then we can go home."
He purses his lips, as if there's more he wants to say, before nodding his head, and leaning down to press a soft kiss on my lips. "I love you," he breathes, causing my chest to flutter.
I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing those words come from him.
"I love you," I smile up at him when he gives me one final kiss before taking a hold of my hand, and leading me downstairs towards the bar.
"What can I get you guys?" The bartender asks, tapping her red painted nails on the dark, wooden bar beneath her fingers.
"A Mexican mule for her," Harry responds, placing his hand on the small of my back. "And a gin and tonic for me, please."
"You got it," she winks before rapping her knuckles on the counter, and walking away to make our drinks.
I'm glancing around the crowd, which looks as if it's grown even more since we arrived, when my eyes land on a sign for the bathrooms in the back.
Placing my hand on Harry's shoulder, I stand on my toes to reach his ear. "I'm going to run to the restroom," I say loudly over the music. "I'll be right back."
He smiles in response before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I'll be here."
I turn to make my way to the bathroom, pushing through the sea of people as they dance, and drink around me. The air in the room is thick, the mixture of sweat and alcohol almost suffocating me as I move. There's a reason I never go out; the amount of activity around me is overwhelming.
All of the different people, and sounds cause my social battery to drain faster than anything. After the confrontation with Marcus upstairs, a big part of me wants to ask Harry to leave when we're done with our drinks.
Hopefully he's thinking the same.
Right as I reach the dark hallway near the stairs, a firm hand wraps around my wrist to stop me. Fully expecting to see Harry standing behind me, I turn my head with a smile, which quickly falls when I see Marcus instead.
"Katie," he drawls, his lips curving into something resembling a grin, only more malicious. "What on earth are you doing walking around all by yourself?"
I glance down at his large hand still gripping my arm, before tugging it away. Nausea rolls through my stomach at how close we are, and how dark and isolated the hallway is.
I swallow harshly before looking back at his expectant gaze, and taking a small step back. "Just looking for the restroom," I choke out.
He tsks at my answer, shaking his head as he takes another step towards me. "You really shouldn't be going off on your own in a place like this," he chuckles, holding out his hand to gesture to the crowd of people behind him. "Your boyfriend is an idiot for letting you out of his sight."
My brows pinch together at the sharp edge in his voice, and I look behind him to see Harry still standing by the bar, staring at his phone. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth before taking another step backwards.
"I- I think I'll be okay. Thank you for your concern, though."
Marcus's crystal eyes darken as he tilts his head, stepping towards me yet again. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, Katie, darling," he growls.
My eyes begin to burn with the threat of tears, my fear growing until it settles heavily in my chest. Harry made sure I brought my pistol tonight, but it doesn't do me any good when my purse is sitting on top of the bar next to him.
God, how could I be so stupid?
"What do you want?" I spit, backing up until I hit the wall near the bathroom door.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice an EXIT sign hanging above a door at the end of the hall, and my mind races with all of the different ways I could possibly get out of here. Unfortunately, none of those ideas are possible when he's only a few inches away from me, blocking my exit on all sides.
"I want you to come with me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if he can't sense the fear radiating off of me.
"I'd rather not," I say through gritted teeth, my gaze flicking back to Harry, who's now looking around the room with a crease between his brows.
Please see me.
Suddenly, I feel something hard, and cold press against my abdomen through my dress, and I gasp as I look down to see the gun in Marcus's hand.
He leans towards me, the air escaping my lungs in shuddered breaths as his lips brush against my ear. "I think you should reconsider," he whispers.
I pinch my eyes shut, and feel a few tears slip down my cheeks. My body is trembling from the panic coursing through me, and it takes everything in me to stay upright as my knees weaken under me.
A sharp pain shoots through my scalp as he wraps his hand in my hair, and I hiss loudly as he begins tugging me towards the exit with him.
"Let me go!" I shout, my hands flying up to my head to attempt to pull him off. In response, he tightens his hold on me, and shoves the gun harder into my side.
"Katie?" I hear Harry say loudly at the mouth of the hallway, my eyes flying open as hope fills my chest.
Harry.
"Ha-"
"Say one fucking word, and you and your boyfriend are dead," Marcus seethes, ripping my head backward to force me to look at him through tear-filled eyes. "Don't even fucking think about it."
I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat before nodding my head in response, any hope I had hearing Harry's voice being completely obliterated. "P- Please don't hurt him," I plead.
Marcus's upper lip curls into a sneer as he pushes me against the back door to force it open. "That's what I thought."
I wince as he shoves me through the exit, my head hitting against the cold metal of the door as the gun digs into my ribs. My eyes fly open when the cool air hits my skin, and I see a black SUV parked in the alleyway. The metallic taste of fear causes my stomach to roll, and I have to swallow to hold back the stomach acid threatening to make an appearance.
Who the hell is this guy?
What does he want with me?
Where does he want to take me?
Hundreds of questions race through my mind as he continues to shove me closer, and closer towards the car. My heels scrape against the pavement as I attempt to slow us down, but it's proven futile when his knee crashes hard into my thigh, causing me to stumble until I fall to the ground.
I cry out as my knees collide with the pavement, causing a shock wave of pain to fire through my kneecaps.
"You stupid bitch!" He spits, gripping harder onto my hair, adding to the pain flooding my senses.
"Katie!" I hear Harry shout from behind us as the metal door clangs against the wall on the outside of the building.
"Harry!" I cry.
I try to turn my head to look at him, but Marcus's hold on my hair stops me, causing my scalp to burn. My breath is coming out in choked sobs now, and I struggle to take in enough oxygen to keep me conscious as Marcus freezes.
"Styles," he laughs loudly, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. "So glad you could make it."
"Let her go," Harry orders.
Marcus yanks upwards, making me scream as he drags me to my feet. In the blink of an eye, he lets go of my hair, only to wrap his arm around my throat to hold me to him. The gun still in his other hand digs harder into my side, making me hiss as the tip pierces my skin through my dress.
"Put the gun down, Harry," Marcus threatens.
My eyes to flutter open to see Harry standing by the door, the small pistol from my purse firmly in his hands, pointed directly at us. I can feel the anger radiating off of him, though he remains eerily calm as he looks me up and down, as if scanning my body for injuries.
"Harry," I whimper, my bottom lip trembling violently as I stare at him.
If he heard my plea, he doesn't show it as his attention focuses on Marcus again. "Let her go," he repeats.
"I don't think so," Marcus says, tightening his grip on my throat until I'm barely able to get air into my lungs. The edges of my vision grow fuzzy as he presses on my windpipe, and I claw at his arm in an attempt to get him to loosen his hold. "I think you'd better-"
Marcus's words are cut off when the sound of a gunshot rings through the alleyway, and I'm released so suddenly that I fall to the ground with a gasp, my lungs finally filling with air. I lay still, fear gripping my body, and rendering me unable to move. The only things I hear are Harry's shouts, and the blast of the gun still ringing in my ears.
Was I shot?
Is this how I'm going to die?
With Harry watching the life drain from my eyes?
We didn't get enough time.
Harry is still shouting from what sounds like miles away as my body slowly comes back to itself. All I can feel is the pain in my head, and I pinch my eyes shut as the pounding in my skull intensifies.
"Princess," Harry's voice breaks through the chaos in my mind as he carefully shakes my shoulders. "Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times as I try to focus on my surroundings. "What happened?" I croak as I attempt to sit up.
As I'm glancing around, I notice Sunny standing over Marcus's crumpled body, a pool of blood staining the concrete below his head. The same pistol that they showed me in their office is dangling from their hand.
"Marcus was a bastard. I never liked him," Sunny says, their attention remaining on the man in front of them. "You two need to get out of here."
I stay frozen, staring at the scene in front of me as Harry tries to lift me. "Katie, stand up. Come on," he grunts, pulling me to my feet.
"Sunny, you-"
"Like I said, it's what friends do," they say drily, a smile that doesn't reach their eyes growing on their lips as they glance up at us.
I wrap my arm around Harry's waist to hold onto him, wincing at the way my legs ache from standing up.
"Katie, we need to leave," he pleads, resting his hand on my cheek to get my attention.
I meet his panicked eyes as they flick rapidly between mine, and the urgency in his voice finally snaps me out of my daze.
I was almost killed.
"Get out of here," Sunny barks, gesturing to the opening of the alleyway with the gun. "Now!"
Another wave of tears swells in my eyes, this time tears of gratitude and relief, as I take one last look at Marcus before Harry scoops me up in his arms to carry me away.