"We are kneeling at the rivers edge and tempting
All the steps to follow closer right behind
Is it only when you feel a part is empty
That it’s gnawing at the corners of your mind
I will ask you for mercy
I will come to you blind
What you’ll see is the worst me
Not the last of my kind"
Warning : Graphic Violence.
A/N : some of you didn't get notified about the last update. Just check you've read that one first. Wattpad is being a dumb dumb.
****
July 5th:
It's Wednesday.
I'm going to meet Harry at the club, he said he had some things to do there but to meet him when I finished work.
My boss Claire let me leave early, and thankfully Jimmy was able to come pick me up earlier. I considered just getting a taxi but, I also didn't know if that was a stupid idea so I decided against it.
I really can't wait for the day I can drive myself to work, or go somewhere without being chaperoned. I understand why it has to be that way at the moment, but it doesn't mean I like it. It's frustrating that I can't just go grocery shopping when I feel like it, or just go anywhere really unsupervised unless I'm at work.
I hope something gets done with David soon, or at least we can figure out a way where I don't feel like I can have some kind of independence. It gets hard to cope with some days, because Harry gets to come and go as he pleases and I feel like I'm tied on a short leash. I don't want to need protecting, or rely on someone for that.
It's been that way for months now, and I don't know how many more months I can cope with it.
But, it's also like, what would I rather go off on my own and have David hurt me? I know that's reality, so I just suck it up. It doesn't stop it feeling suffocating though.
It's always in the back of your mind.
It's been a miserable rainy day and it hasn't let up into the night, so I try and make my way to the front door in the dark street as quickly as possible once I say goodbye to Jimmy, and get out of the car; feeling the cold rain pour down on me as I stare at my feet; splashing water on the pavement that has a red reflection from the red neon sign outside the club.
I really should invest in an umbrella.
As soon as I push through the front doors my eyes have to adjust to the deep red tint, and I search my eyes around the downstairs bar but it's completely empty. Nothing but the same rock music filling the space in the room.
I push my damp hair away from my face, and wrap my arms in front of myself to pull my cardigan tighter while I walk towards the staircase to see if he's upstairs.
I shiver as I walk up the stairs, feeling the chill in the empty air that's normally filled with warmth and sweat from the sea of people's bodies that are usually here grinding together.
This place is eerie when no one is here.
I can't wait to get home and get changed out of these damp clothes.
I reach the top of the stairs, and take a few steps into the top bar room; glancing at the stage before looking around the room for Harry.
I pause my steps when I see him, sat on the couch near the bar against the wall but he's sat with another man talking; and he has that hard but calm demeanor about him.
I'm only 20 minutes early, I didn't think it would be a problem since Harry always makes a point to tell me to never be late. He never told he was meeting with someone first or I never would have come in. I thought he was just here doing paperwork or something.
I don't recognise the man with him, but he looks just as threatening as everyone else Harry seems to know. The first thing I noticed was the tattoo under the corner of his eye, and then his blonde hair; he looked about Harry's age but something about him put an uneasy pit in my stomach.
Maybe it was the way Harry's demeanor was towards him, hard. Cold. His jaw set tight, his back straight with his shoulders stiff. Nothing about him was relaxed.
I watch the blonde man lift his hand to place a cigarette between his lips, lighting it as he mumbled something to Harry and Harry simply gives him a short nod before leaning forward to grab his whiskey glass off of the table in front of them and when he does, his eyes flick up to my direction to catch mine.
My stomach sinks when I see his eyes snap wider for a brief second and a flash of panic goes through them, before he's composing himself and darts his eyes back to the stairwell behind me; a silent plead with his eyes that said, 'Leave. Quickly.
I give him a silent apology back, tilting my brows and saying 'I'm so sorry, I didn't know.'
I'm not going to question why I need to leave, I know better so I start taking steps back but they're stopped when the blonde man looks in my direction.
I try to hide any emotion on my face, feeling my heart beat erratically when the man traces his eyes from my face, down to my feet and back up then cocks his head, "Who's the doll Styles?"
His voice sends a chill over my skin, and Harry looks to him before darting his eyes to me, swallowing hard and silently begging with a look that says,'Don't say anything,'
"She's no one," Harry replies with his voice clipped and completely cold, and I can't help the sting from it; even though I know it's for my own benefit.
This is that side of Harry's life I've been kept away from, people like the man he's with now and from the looks he's giving me I know he is the furthest thing from okay with me being present. I knew we couldn't avoid it forever.
The blonde man raises a brow at Harry, taking a drag on his cigarette,"She sure looks like she's someone," the man's stare focuses back on me, and I want to shrink back from the unsettling look behind it,"What's a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this? Hm? Come closer, let me get a better look at you."
I fold my arms tighter in front of me, to hide any signs of the shaking in his hands, and don't dare move and Harry's sharp voice immediately cuts in.
He snaps at me, giving me a hard look but his eyes give him away, he's worried,"No she needs to leave. I'm busy woman, you can see that. Get out."
The blonde man, takes another drag of his cigarette and clicks his tongue at Harry shaking his head, "That's no way to be talking to a lady, now is it Styles? Besides. I don't want her to leave," he looks to me again, "Come over here - unless there's a reason you don't want her to, Harry?"
Harry grinds his teeth, and I watch his fingers dig into his hands resting on his knees,"I told you, she's no one. She's not important."
The blonde man waves me over, and I'm doing everything I can to keep my face passive but I don't know what to do. I look to Harry for some kind of assurance, with his eyes locked on me he gives me the faintest shake of his head for me to stay put.
When I don't move, the man looks back and forth between us, with a thoughtful look that's also completely menacing and my gut feels like it's clenched by a fist when he pushes up to stand, and starts to walk over to me instead.
"If she's no one, guess you won't mind me getting a closer look at her then - would you?" the man drawls, dropping his cigarette on the ground to stomp it out before continuing his slow casual steps in my direction.
I use all my willpower to keep my breathing steady, even though I feel like I'm about to hyperventilate and I can see Harrys chest rising and falling harsher as his nostrils flare when his whole body goes rigid; glaring at the mans back like he wants to murder him.
I have no clue who this man is, but he can't be anyone good if he has Harry like this; because if anyone else came towards me like this they'd already be shot.
"Just let her leave Mick, she's-"
The man, who I now know is Mick holds his hand in the air to cut Harry off as he comes to stand in front of me, searching his eyes over my face as he stares me down,"Nah, I think I'll let her tell me who she is - so, who are you doll? You never told me what a pretty thing like you is doing here."
I don't look at Harry, not wanting to make things any more obvious and instead take a step back from the man which only makes him give me a smirk. I know Harry said don't speak but this man isn't giving me much choice, so in hopes this isn't the stupidest shit I have done, I mustre all my bravery to answer and sound as calm as I can.
"Sorry - I just, I'm one of the cleaners that works here after it shuts. I came to pick up my pay but I'm early. I didn't realise Harry had company."
I don't get to see Harry's reaction to what I've said, and Mick tilts his head, looking like he's considering my answer, "A cleaner?" he steps forward again to stand right in front of me, "You're far too pretty to be cleaning doll," he then raises his voice to Harry, but keeps his stark taunting eyes zoned in on my face, "This is a waste Styles, letting something this sweet scrub a hell hole like this."
He lifts his hand, to run his knuckles down my arm and I flinch away, "I've got plenty of better ideas for other jobs you could do, doll. You know who I am?"
All I can do is shake my head, too scared that if I speak again the trembling in my voice would give away how fucking terrified I am at the moment.
Mick looks even more ominous surrounded by all these red lights, and there's something about the way that he's traditionally handsome with chiseled features that is contradicted by the tattoos covering his throat and the ones on his face, that makes the dark dead look behind his eyes even more frightening.
I know Harry can be a 'bad guy', but this man isn't like that. This man reminds me of the kind of evil inside David.
Something about him is just... not right.
He gives me a sweet, unnerving smile,"I'm the founder and president of the Lucky 13's - you know who that is beautiful?"
Yes. That's Jacobs club. This is Jacob's boss?
I shake my head again, forcing myself to reply with a meek, "No, I'm sorry. I'm just a cleaner, I've never heard of that. I just scrub toilets and go home."
I have no idea if he's buying this, if he is, he isn't giving it away and he gives me another slow once over and then grasps my chin in his hand with enough force that I can't pull my face away, "Well, it means I'm a very powerful man and I've got a lot of ideas about what I could do with you that's far better than scrubbing toilets."
I don't know what to do, the tension in the air feels like it's constricting my chest and I just wish Harry would get him away from me but I know that there must be a very good reason why he hasn't yet. I know he won't let him hurt me.
I know Harry does business through his club for Jacobs biker gang or whatever, but I'm not exactly sure if it's just the money side of it.
"No I'm good with scrubbing toilets, it's the family business - all I ever aspired to be" I fumble out with a tight smile, trying to lean back but he keeps a hold on my face, and leans his face close to mine.
"Nah," he drags out in a quiet voice so I can only hear,"I think I'd rather see what else you can do... Abby."
How the fuck does he know my name!
At the end of his sentence, all I feel is his other hand snake around me and grab hold of my behind; digging his fingers into my skin through my jeans to try and tug me towards him, making my heart stop in my chest but my hands shove against his chest.
"Get the fuck away from me!" I panic, shoving him again as hard as I can, which makes him take a stumbled step back.
My chest is heaving when his eyes land on mine, and they're furious and within a second his hand comes flying towards my face as he hisses at me, "You fucking bitch."
His hand doesn't make contact though, it's stopped before it even gets close to my face by Harry snatching hold of his wrist with a loud growl.
Everything from that point on goes in both super speed and slow motion, but it's the noise that I hear that rings in my ears and twists my stomach.
Harry tugs him away from me, twisting his arm back and I hear the blood chilling crack that runs through the air, it's the snap of bone mixed with the pained cry the leaves Micks mouth and I'm completely frozen, my feet cemented to the ground as I watch in terror.
Harry's eyes are completely black, with manic rage filling every feature on his face and before Mick can ever react to his arm being broken, Harry is bringing his other hand up that as gripping his whiskey glass and shatters directly into his face.
I try to scream but it's lodged in my throat and all I can do is to cover my mouth, it's like everything else around me blurs and I can't force my eyes away; I'm just paralyzed.
There's blood everywhere, glass lodged in Micks face that soon disappears from the dark liquid that starts covering his face as he grunts and shouts in pain trying to swing at Harry with his free hand blindly but it's useless.
It's like watching a feral animal attack someone as Harry's clenched fist collides with Micks face when Harry releases his mangled arm; only to grab his jacket to keep him upright as he drives his fist directly into Micks disfigured face; over and over again. Alternating his hands from one to the other to hold him upright while Micks face just snaps in the direction of each hit so brutally I'm dreading any second he's going to break his neck.
My pulse is screaming in my ears, and everything in me is fighting to run away, look away and I just can't. I can't do anything.
I've never seen Harry like this. I've heard of this part of him, but never seen it. It's horrifying.
Harry grabs Mick by the hair, shoving him down at the same time Harry flies his knee up to connect it with his skull, smashing it with so much force it sends Mick flying back onto the floor like a limp rag doll.
It's not just what I'm seeing that's draining all the colour from my face, it's the noises, the crack of bone and the sound gurgle sounds of agony coming from Mick.
Then there's the sounds coming from Harry, the wild animalistic grunts and growls that he's making with every movement.
I can hear Mick choking and coughing on the ground and think I'm going to faint when I watched him gag up blood and try to spit it out.
God there's so much blood everywhere.
On the ground. On Mick. On Harry.
Harry moves takes to large strides over to Mick on the ground, bringing his leg back only to repeatedly connect his boot with Micks side and chest. With so much violent force it's knocking any noises out of Mick that aren't strained wheezing cries of him trying to suck air back into his lungs and choking on it.
Harry hasn't said a single word. He's snapped. He looks completely out of his mind. This is that dark side, the one he's kept hidden away; that he tried so hard to keep from me.
I knew it was there. But knowing and seeing are two different things entirely.
All of this is happening in the span of a few minutes but it feels like both seconds and hours, it's never ending.
Harry moves himself down to the ground, straddling Micks chest as he rolls him on his back and pins Micks arm with his knees which makes Mick choke out a harrowing gurgled scream. Blood flying from his mouth when Harry presses his knee down harder on his broken arm; but Harry punches the noise out of him when he slams his fist into the centre of Micks face.
That noise is burned into my brain, the crunch of bone and cartilage I heard.
Blood. There's so much fucking blood. I've never seen so much blood on a person.
I need to stop Harry, he's going to kill him if he doesn't stop. I need to do something but my body isn't letting me move, make a noise. Anything. I'm just stuck catatonic in fear.
Everything inside me is reacting like I'm on a plane that's falling out of the sky, nose diving straight to the ground but my body is dead still. Aside from the trembling, my whole fucking body is trembling.
Harry grabs hold of Micks jaw, forcing his mouth open as Harry reaches into his jacket and removes his gun; and my ears start to ring as my head starts to spin when I see Harry place the barrel of the gun inside Micks mouth.
Mick is by some miracle still conscious, even though it's barely and his face looks completely mangled, it's like something out of a nightmare. Harry glares down at him; with a death grip on his jaw and every muscle in Harry's body is rigid, his shoulders squared with his jaw clenched so tight the veins in his neck are bulging as his chest heaves with quick ragged breaths.
Oh my god. I'm about to watch someone fucking die. I'm about to watch the person I'm in love with kill someone.
"I told you to let her leave!" Harry spits at him through his clenched teeth, and presses the barrel further into his open mouth while Mick tries to struggle but it's weak, he can barely move or breathe, "Try and call her a bitch now, you piece of shit. Go on, try! I'm gonna show you what happens to people like you, what they deserve - how dare you fucking touch her!"
There's so much cold vicious fury in Harry's deep voice, I almost don't recognise it. It's like Harry has forgotten I'm even in the room, and all he is focused on is the man below him that i know is probably going to choke to death on his own blood if Harry doesn't shoot him first.
I just keep hearing that sound. That choking sound, gurgling in the back of his throat and the gagging.
The brief split second action I see of Harry pressing his pointer finger against the trigger of the gun; knowing he's about to pull it any second, for some reason zaps my brain and body , thrusting it into overdrive as everything I'm feeling comes exploding out of me and I can finally scream out as I cover my eyes.
"Harry stop!! Please don't!"
My body is shaking so fiercely, and my throat feels like it's about to swell shut at the same time my chest is so tight I've gone from hyperventilating to feeling like I can't breathe anymore.
I can't watch him kill someone, I can't watch someone die.
I don't know this man, and after what he did to me, I don't know what he's done to others or if he deserves what Harry would do but I can't fucking watch it.
I'm so fucking scared.
A drawn out silence, where I can slowly start to hear the music in the room again after my brain completely tuned it out mixed with the noises coming from Mick, and the absence of a gunshot has me pulling my hands down from my face.
I see Harry completely still, glaring at Mick still with the gun in his mouth but it's like it's suddenly slapped Harry that I'm there, and exactly what was going on the second he heard my voice.
Harry grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head to bellow out a roaring,"Fuck!" before he's ripping the gun out of Micks mouth, and pushing himself up to stand and shoving Micks shoulder with his foot, kicking his limp body onto its side so his back his facing me.
"God fucking dammit!" he explodes, shoving his gun back into the waistband of his pants and runs his hands through the front of his damp hair that had clung to his forehead with sweat; but it smears blood on his face that was covering his hands as he starts to pace and refuse to look at me.
I don't know what to say to him. I don't know what to do.
All I can see is the dark stains all over his white shirt under his jacket, the dark liquid smeared on his hands and splattered on his chest and neck.
This is not what I should be saying, but it's all that comes out as I glance to the man on the ground, and my voice wavers, "Har- Harry... he's going to die, if he doesn't g-get help."
I know that can't happen. It's not like he can call an ambulance. I don't know what to fucking do.
How do you watch someone die?
I'm not like the people in Harry's world, I can't just stare at another human being and watch them slowly drown to death in their own blood and not care.
I wish I could go to Harry, because he's the only thing that would make me feel safe right now but when he turns and stops to face me with that furious look in his eyes, and covered in blood I don't move.
"That is the last of my fucking problems right now Abby! I don't give a fuck! Let him!" he roars at me, stress and anger scratching at his hoarse voice; and he points back to Mick on the ground, "Do you have any fucking idea what I've just done! What that fucking means! Who he is! All while you had to fucking watch!"
I take a step back from the volume of his voice, my eyes burning from the emotions and feelings firing around me mixed with the aftershocks of the images and sounds playing in my head from what I just witnessed.
Harry's brows are pulled hard together to form a deep crease between his brows, his eyes darting over me and he looks like I've slapped him when he finally takes in my expression, which I know must look petrified because I am.
Not of him. But of what he just did.
His face fill with pain as his lips press tight together and starts to shake his head, looking away from me to start pacing back and forth again; clenching his fists and growling while he squeezes his eyes shut,"Fuck Abby don't look at me like that. Don't look at me like I'm him!"
Wait, him who?
Harry continues to walk back and forth, cursing under his breath as he glances to the Mick slumped on the ground, still gasping and coughing out blood. I can hear him spitting it out.
He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone and unlocking it; illuminating his hard features and I get the first glimpse of the bright red that isn't from the lights; it's the red smeared across his skin. He taps his thumb against his phone and then brings it to his ear, grinding his teeth and then whoever he's calling answers.
"Yeah Jimmy, I need you to come to the club. I need you to clean up a mess for me -- Yes Abby's here" Harry pauses at whatever Jimmy says, flicking his eyes to me and then darts them to the ground and mutters, "Abby's not hurt. But it's bad -- I need to get her out of here..." Harry goes quiet again, striding over to the bar and smacks an empty beer bottle off of it so it flies onto the floor behind the bar and smashes, "I don't have fucking time to explain Jimmy I'll do it later. It was Mick alright? I just need you to come sort it out and we'll deal with it later."
Harry waits for whatever Jimmy is saying, running his fingers through his hair,"Yeah, I'm well aware how fucking bad that is -- Just get here okay? Thanks."
He shoves his phone in his pocket, and stares at Mick on the ground,"I've really fucked up."
I'm lost for the right fucking thing to say right now, I don't know how to react properly so I just keep blurting out the first things that come to mind whether they're correct or not.
"Harry you didn't mean it- he... he grabbed me and you were just trying to stop-"
"No!" he shouts, turning to stride towards me and stops a few feet away; looking like he's too scared to get close to me,"I did mean it! I meant everything I just did! And I would have blown his fucking brains out without blinking if you hadn't of screamed, I wanted to kill him -- the second he touched you I wanted to fucking kill him!"
His chest is rising and falling in deep breaths, as he holds his arms out at his sides and yells,"Sometimes I think you forget who the fuck I really am Abby - well here, this is it!"
I stare at him, standing there with anguish and anger mixed all over his face; blood soaking his shirt and covering his hands, cloaked in red in lighting and then it really hits me.
It's the first time I'm really seeing him, every single part. I'm seeing all of him.
I've seen the delicate and now I'm seeing the violence. It's harrowing and heartbreaking, because I can see the self hatred that his eyes are screaming, and the shame.
He finally let his worst parts come into the light for me to witness.
I don't know what to say.
Harry's nostrils flare, his chin scrunching as his brows wince together; his arms dropping be his sides as he takes in my distraught expression, "You wanted all of me Abby, well here you go. You and I both know, I can be worse than this to in that fucking basement. This is who I am, and now I know exactly why I kept it away from you. This proves it."
I question him with my eyes over what he means, unable to use words; my throat is blocked with the large pit in it, being pushed up by the cracking in my chest over the grief on his face.
He swallows as his face winces when he looks at the ground, and he shakes his head again sniffing; before his eyes flick back to mine and his voice sounds devastated, but also like he's not surprised by what he's saying, just that it's ripping his insides apart.
He gestures his hand at me, as if to say ' look at you', before dropping it by his side and he looks like he's ashamed for me to even see him.
"Because I scare you. You saw who I really am, and you're fucking terrified of me."
***
***
I guess the happy times were fun while they lasted?
This had to happen eventually, and I did hint at it, several times, in both books that Abby needed to see this part of him because it's easy to ignore / forget.
It's a ride from here. Y'all like rollercoasters right?
Appreciate u (plz no kill me).
*nervous bum pats*