Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

061

And in four hours or so after he's tired of counting, and Louis and Savannah have stopped their shameless flirting, and the driver is no longer fed up with everyone, he sees the new city approaching. The big sign that says it all, and he couldn't care less.

"Please, tell me you know what you're doing, mate," Louis glances at the driver, and the driver glances back.

Deep voice replies, "'Course I do, boss."

"What'd I tell you about calling me boss?"

"U-uh...m...mate?"

"We're not that close."

Harry rolls his eyes at the aimless bickering, and Savannah snickers at it as well.

The moment when they pull up in front of a warehouse, fulfilling Louis's reckless vision of an abrupt interruption, and he screams out "Let's blow these motherfuckers!" there is absolute chaos.

And then corrects himself. "Not like that!"

Savannah marches ahead, signalling Harry to follow. First two guards are down in two seconds. Harry gets one, and Savannah the other. He's surprised, they make a good team. Still...he hates her. He inhales sharply, preparing himself to bust inside and anything could literally be out there. As he's preparing himself for this tension, Louis whispers behind me, "By the way, Harry, I know it was you who shattered one of my fucking shower stalls to pieces."

Ignoring this, Savannah kicks the door open with all her strength, and the surprise is evident on everyone's faces. Even Fray's.

C A T A L I N A 

I wanted to to cry, I really did. But I figured that it wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't put me back with Harry, it wouldn't fix this mess in general. My lips were sealed, my jaw was clenched. My idea of survival had perished. And once again, I lifelessly stared at my lap and listened to the mocking laughter of the chatting men in the distance.

At least Roy wouldn't put his hands on me, orders from Fray that he didn't want to make me suffer just yet. If there is an example so prestige in the value, definition of the word sadistic, then it is Fray himself.

The brutal shape my body was in made it hard for me to stay alert. I spent hours in a room off to the side of the warehouse, tied to a chair. Where ropes agonizingly grabbed onto my wrists, were burns from the material. It was dark and the smell of old fabrics hit a spot in my stomach that made me want to vomit.

A squeak was heard, and next footsteps. I gaze up through narrowed, hollow eyes to see Liam walking towards me at a pace that reeked of no hesitation. The betrayal was strong, but I bit my tongue. My throat hurt and the dryness increased the second I saw a glass of water in his hands.

Brown hair brushed up, freshly shaven beard and brown, dough eyes gazing at me profoundly. I shifted a bit in my seat out of tension and frustration, knowing there was no way I could redeem myself. My fists tightened, and I almost hiss at the burning sensation in my wrists as the ropes burn them while I twist and turn. My feet are restricted as well, and my behind is numb from the hard steel of the chair.

"I brought you water. It's all I could get," he says. "Fray thinks nearly killing you will get you to spill the codes."

I say nothing.

Seeing I won't react, he just purses his lips and nods, raising his eyebrows for a moment with acceptance for my lack of response. "I...I know what you're thinking," he starts lowly. "And it's not the truth."

All I want is the water in his hands, and by the look of my gaze he notices. He walks forward effortlessly and brings the cup to my lips. My glare is bulletproof with anger, and once that water cooled my throat, I could finally spit, "You are pathetic."