CHAPTER 43
HARRY
"We were sat here in the car, and she asked me if I could give her a few minutes alone," Niall breathes, nervously running his hand through his hair. I'm currently fighting the urge to knock him to the ground, for letting this happen to Claire. But I remember the time when I was to blame, and I know how he is feeling. Knocking his teeth out won't help me, I've learned.
I open the car door, taking a quick scan of the interior. Even though my heart is beating a million times a minute, I try to stay as calm as possible. I notice a small piece of paper sticking laying neatly on the drivers seat, so I lean over and grab it. Written across the front, it says: To Niall.
My first instinct is to flip it over, and read its content. But as my eyes cast on the first two words, I decide not to. This is meant for Niall. Did Zayn let her write a note before taking her away, or... was she taken willingly?
I back up out of the car, turning to Niall. I hand him the note, and his eyes flicker as he takes it in his hand, reading the front of it. He looks up at me, taking a deep breath before flipping it over, reading what seems like a whole page of words.
I study his intense stare, as he roams through the words quickly. Something builds up in his eyes, and I internally debate whether its anger, heartbreak, worry.
"She... met him. She gave herself over on purpose, she sacrificed t- to save Michael," The words fumble out of Niall's mouth, as he fails to construct a logical sentence. But the words fall in order of my mind and cold chills spread from the top of my head.
Zayn must've threatened her to kill Michael if she didn't hand herself over.
The realization makes a lump form in my throat, and I lose balance for a second. I feel like my heart is falling a thousand feet a second, and there is no way for me to stop it. She is back in his hands. He got his hands on her again. She's... gone.
Niall keeps his eyes on the note, and he seems to read a particular sentence over and over again. I glance down at the paper, but I close my eyes before I can read it. She wrote it for Niall to read.
He curls the paper up in a fist, shoving it in his pocket as his eyes twitch, but he inhales sharply to keep from tears forming.
"What do we do?" He says weakly, and I run my hands through my hair, my eyes grazing over every corner of the parking lot. I look at the sky, and the orange sky is lit up by the city lights. Somewhere... she might be looking at the same stars I am.
"Did she write anything in the note hinting at anything?" I ask, moving closer.
"Can I read it?" I try, because this might be the last words Claire will write. But Niall clenches his eyes together, shaking his head.
"There was no hints," he says, and I squint my eyes at him at first, but I believe him. He has no reason to lie.
So what do I do now? Knowing there is no way to help her again, it makes my muscles tense and my body stiffen. I'm right back where I started.
"There has to be some way to find her," Niall shivers, slicking his hair back.
"What about her phone?" Niall asks, his eyes widening. I shoot back to the car, opening the door, searching it's interior. But after a few minutes of nothing, I give up.
"Well, we can still track it, right? Yang can track it!" Niall hisses with hope in his eyes, but my heart doesn't top falling.
"That won't work," I shake my head, placing my hands onto the car, leaning over so I won't fall down. Knowing Zayn, he already smashed her phone to the ground.
"We have to try!" Niall squeals, moving to the side of me, his voice ringing in my ears. He's making it really hard not to punch him. He's the reason she's back with him.
"I know! Alright? I know! I'm just... so tired of chasing dead ends," I shout, my frustration escaping to the surface of my skin. My heart races when I think of that in this very moments, he could be drugging her again. He could undo all of the progress she has made.
"Well let's go!" Niall shouts back, opening the car door and getting in the drivers seat. There's moment of silence after he closes the door, where a cool breeze flushes over me as I close my eyes.
"Fight Claire," I whisper, hoping in some way she can hear me.
"Fight, for me."
•
•
CLAIRE
"Michael!" I jump when I see the flicker of his eyes, as he moves his hand. He opens his eyes fully, struggling to sit up on the dirty mattress.
"Claire?" His dry voice speaks weakly. A few seconds pass as his eyes widen, coming back to reality.
"What are you doing here!" he whispers sharply, moving towards me. The bags under his eyes are evident and he doesn't seem to have showered. Dirt has gathered under his fingernails, and his hair is turning greasy.
"Zayn, h- he threatened me, I had to give myself over to him! He said he would kill you if I didn't," I explain, moving closer to him. I put my hands on either side of his shoulder, wanting to touch him. He's alive. Michael hugs me tightly, breathing heavily.
"When were you brought here?" He asks, backing away.
"I don't know, 5 hours or so," I breathe, wiping away a tear I didn't know was there.
"We gotta get out of here," he says, and my body stiffens.
"How are we gonna do that?" I ask, looking around me in the room. There are no exits at all. The door I was thrown through is locked shut and there are no windows.
"Zayn has to open that door sometime, and we could overpower him somehow, right? We are two, he's one."
I consider it for a moment, and even though the plan is logical, it's unlikely. I tried to escape him many times last time, and it never worked.
The door suddenly rattles, and Zayn steps into the room seconds later. He carries two boxes, steam venting out of them.
"Hello love... and Michael," he says, walking over to us. A cold shiver pours through me as his eyes lock on mine. I'll never get used to those eyes.
"I brought you food."
He places the two boxes in front of the mattress we are sitting on, taking a few steps back.
"Eat," he says.
"I'd rather die," I sneer in disgust. I gather the courage to glare at his eyes, and his brows lower.
"Eat," he insists, with a slightly more aggressive tone. He takes one step forward.
"No," I growl at him, as our eyes burn at each other. His upper lip twitches, and I see him curl his hands into fists.
"Why?" He asks, his eyes turning soft.
"Why? Because I know the food is full of drugs," I say, taking the box in my hands. I open it, and turn it upside down, letting it's contents fall on the ground. I look up at Zayn, and his glare sends chills down my spine.
"Stupid girl," he shakes his head.
"You'll do what I say in time," he nods his head at himself, picking up the empty box off the floor.
"You still have it in your system, so when you're hungry and weak, I think you'll do whatever I say," He says, and my gut twists into a thousand knots. I still have it in my system? It's been more than two weeks since he broke into the apartment. The doctor said it only takes a few days for the drug to leave my system.
"No I don't, it's been two weeks," I imply weakly, a growing fear climbing its way to my surface. He smiles wickedly, releasing a sly laugh.
"Stupid, naive girl," he says again. I look back at Michael, who looks as confused as I do.
Before I demand for him to tell me what he means, he walks out, locking the door.
"What did he mean by that? It's been two weeks since he broke into the apartment," I stress, slicking my hair back as my suspicion grows.
"I don't know," Michael shrugs, his eyes weak. He glances over at the remaining box with its content still emitting steam.
"You can't," I whisper, once I realize what he's thinking about.
"I haven't eaten in days," he complains, drool nearly escaping the corner of his mouth. But I know it's effects. Nobody wants that.
"Please, trust me Michael, you'd rather be hungry than live through that," I shake my head, reliving the many horrifying moments where I felt myself going insane.
"I'm gonna have to eat some time, or I'll starve to death!" Michael exhales, leaning back against the wall. He has been here for nearly three days, and I can only imagine how hungry and dehydrated he is.
My eyes flinch when I realize... The only way for Michael to get out of this place is if I go through it all again. I have to lose my mind. I have to break again.
"He said he wouldn't let you go until he broke me," I say, and Michael's eyes widen.
"No, no! Claire, you can't!" his voice raises, his upper body leaning forward. I look over at the box, squinting. But Michael shoots forward, kicking the box over before I can take a bite.
"Michael! I have to! One of us are gonna make it out of here, and... it should be you," I wheeze, frustration inhabiting my body.
"We both are gonna make it out of here Claire, we just... have to figure out how," he breathes. I fall back on the mattress, exhaling heavily. Michael gently brushes hair away of my face, and I feel a lump form in my throat.
One thought remains as I look up at the dirty ceiling, the shadows of the corners in the room creeping at me.
Is it still in my system? And if so...
How?
A/N
Hey guys! Sorry that the chapter is kinda short, but this is sort of a filler.
Hope you liked it! See you in the next one <3 7 chapters left!!
I still don't know whether to write a third book or not ughhhh