My body shot upwards before I knew what I was doing, the movement shaking whatever I was sitting on so much that I lost my balance and fell off.
I groaned as I landed on the hard floor and I laid there for a few minutes before my brain started screaming and I slowly remembered what had happened.
My eyes shot open and I sat upright, groaning again as a pain ran through my head and I touched the side of my face gingerly, only to hiss as it caused the pain to intensify.
I think I was bruised.
I blinked rapidly as I tried to adjust to the bright light. Although it wasn't that bright considering it was one bare bulb hanging from a wire in the ceiling.
I looked around slowly, I was in a bedroom. Or at least there was a bed in the room I was in, and I wasn't even sure how it fit in here considering it was a double and took up more than half the room.
I'd never been in a bedroom so small.
My heart rate started to increase as my brain started to fill my head with all the possibilities as to why I was in a room with a double bed and none of them were very good.
I licked my lips as I pushed myself up and made a beeline for the door, only realising as I looked at it properly that there was no handle on this side, just smooth wood from the top to the bottom and I frowned.
What kind of door only had one handle?
I stared at it for a few minutes before I decided to try anyway, running my fingers along the edge hoping to find a lip or a crack or anything I could hook a finger under and pull open.
But it was no use.
There wasn't anything, it was completely smooth. And I could feel myself getting frustrated which I knew was useless as well. Nobody thought clearly when they were annoyed which only led to stupid decisions being made.
I tried to keep a clear head as I continued to pull at the door, my fingers clawing along the wood and I was almost proud at the lines that appeared underneath. I could feel my nails starting to lift and I finally stopped once I saw blood starting to pool.
I stood looking around, I knew it was the wrong time but my finger was hurting and I had chipped several of my nails and I know it was trivial and pointless but I'd just painted them yesterday and they had cute clouds on!
Or at least I assumed I'd painted them yesterday. That was if today was still Wednesday, I mean I'm sure it had to be.
Time didn't pass that quickly and I'm sure I wasn't unconscious for that long otherwise wouldn't I be dehydrated and hungry?
I licked my lips as the thought entered my brain and now my mouth was dry and I groaned. I was doing this to myself! If I stopped thinking of all the worse case scenarios then everything would be okay.
Right?
I dropped down onto the bed, my head in my hands as everything suddenly crashed into me at once as I sat there.
Nothing was going to be okay.
And what about Harry! He really hit the ground hard, the bat thing or whatever it was looked like it was metal and he was hit pretty hard.
In fact it looked like the crowbar that was in our garage and that thing hurt.
I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault. I shouldn't have gone shopping, I shouldn't have let Ollie convince me I was going crazy and I should have told Harry to leave. Not kept him there talking to me.
Now I was stuck here, wherever here was and I couldn't help but cry. I didn't have anyone to worry, Ollie and I sometimes went days without talking to each other so he wouldn't know.
I hadn't even heard from or seen my Father since he kicked Harry out, so there was no way he'd even know what had happened. How would he even find out?
The only person who did know was Harry and he might not even be okay enough to know I was gone.
I was terrified out of my mind and I couldn't stop crying when really the only thing I wanted and the only thing I knew that would make this okay was Harry, and he might as well have been a million miles away.
But I couldn't help myself, crying for this shitty situation and crying because I was scared.
Crying because I wanted Harry.
h.
"Why were you even there?"
The throbbing in my head made the words fuzzy but I could tell Jack was irritated.
"What the fuck were you, a dirty little criminal doing with my daughter?" Jack hissed and I set my jaw before it caused a sharp pain in my head.
"If I hadn't been with her, you would have never known she was missing."
If I'd known Jack was going to be such a fucking cunt then I would have never bothered. It was fucking hard enough trying to find him as it was.
Thankfully Liam knew someone who knew Jack's address.
I'd come to with several people standing around me looking concerned as I laid on the ground, anger spreading through my body at practically the same rate the pain had done. All of it muting to a dull ache when I'd seen Poppy's bag on the ground.
With no Poppy.
I had basically fought off everyone asking me if I was okay and that they were going to call an ambulance, did I fucking look like I needed an ambulance?
"Of course I would have known." Jack snorted, the arrogance I hated so much but never saw in his daughter shone through as he regarded me through narrow eyes.
"I'm a good parent."
I bit my tongue harshly as I forced my eyes away from him, what a fucking joke.
I met the eyes of a girl appearing at the top of the stairs, scantily clad and not much older than Poppy and I stopped myself from snorting.
No wonder Jack didn't live at home with Poppy, he clearly had a nice bachelor pad here.
"Go back to bed Delilah." Jack spoke without even looking round and I watched as Delilah turned and walked away without a word.
"You know I forgot how flexible twenty year olds are."
I set my jaw as I looked at Jack, a smug smirk on his lips and I fought against rolling my eyes, there was something particularly pathetic about a old man bragging about young girls.
"I think we have more pressing matters." I said evenly, I was trying really fucking hard to control myself here.
Why was he acting so fucking causal?
His daughter had just been kidnapped and he was acting like he couldn't care less.
"It'll be fine Styles. There will either be a ransom demand or she'll turn up once they realise how irritating Poppy can be."
I wonder if Poppy would be mad if she found out I punched her Dad.
"Well you need to tell the police, in case it's a ransom." I pointed out.
How was I the smart one here?
"No!" Jack practically shouted and I blinked at the sudden reaction. "No need to get the police. I can handle this myself."
I frowned as his words made no sense to me. I didn't understand how calm he was, I didn't understand any of this.
I watched Jack warily as he drained his scotch glass and I sucked my teeth. None of this was making sense and time was ticking, the longer Poppy was gone, the harder it was going to be to find her.
"Besides Styles, this isn't your problem. She isn't your problem. All you need to think about is selling my gear to a bunch of needy and stupid crack whores and make me some money."
I didn't even sell crack.
I knew Jack Carmichael was a cunt but this was blowing my mind. Poppy was fucking missing and I was losing my absolute mind, who even took her? Why would anyone take her? But more importantly, was she okay?
"Whatever." I waved a hand as I turned to leave and I heard Jack snort and I rolled my eyes, somehow the action made my heart hurt even more.
I sat behind the wheel of my car for a few minutes as I thought things over before I pulled out my phone and texted Zayn.
Can you track a phone location for me?
I tried to calm myself as I waited for his reply, it was, I checked the time on my phone, 2:47pm he should still be at work. If this was possible and worked for me then I was going to kiss God or whoever existed that Poppy still had her phone.
Or at least I assumed she did considering I had practically torn her bag apart but only found several notebooks, some pens and her laptop with a now cracked screen. No phone in sight.
Zayn 2:50pm: For police officers and actual real cases? Yes. For you? No.
I rolled my eyes as I read his message, sometimes I loved that Zayn worked in the Met, other times he made me want to wring his neck.
Don't you owe me for the last lot of weed you bought?
Zayn 2:51pm: Sometimes you're a right prick.
I smirked as Zayn's messaged buzzed in and I only just read the first one when my phone buzzed again.
Zayn 2:52pm: Do you have the number? And now you owe me, I could lose my fucking job Harry.
It's Poppy's number. She's missing.
If Jack wasn't going to find her, then I fucking was.
+
sorry it's a shorty again BUT is anyone watching the second season of You on netflix? cause holy FUCKING shit man!!