Twisted

My first reaction was to duck.
I let out a terrified shriek, my hands letting go of the steering wheel as I covered my head with my hands. I bent over forward, my heart leaping in my chest, the deafening sound of glass shattering mixed with shots firing overtaking all my senses. I waited for a bullet to hit me; I waited for my death.
And then I heard Harry shout:
“Don’t let go of the wheel!” The car jerked back to the side as I vaguely felt Harry lean over and grasp onto the wheel, trying to regain control of the car. By now my mind couldn’t even think properly—all I could think about was who was firing at us.
In actions movies, getting shot at in a car didn’t seem this terrifying. But in real life, it was petrifying. My entire body tensed up to the point where it was painful, and I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I know I was being pathetic at the moment, but I’ve never been shot at while driving.
And whoever was behind had apparently stopped shooting. But I knew they were still there; they were probably reloading their guns.
My entire body lurched to the left when Harry suddenly turned the wheel—hard. My entire life flashed before my very eyes—the first day I went to school, the day I learned how to write my name, the day I went on my first date—as the car literally skidded on its wheels. We nearly flipped over. I swore we were going to. I opened my eyes to see if this was really happening, and I saw Harry leaning over me, the back of his curly head filling my vision. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to.
If I died, at least I wouldn’t be alone. Right?
The car let out a loud SCREECH as it straightened out, landing safely back on all fours. I could smell the strong scent of rubber, which was probably from the tires, and I heard a loud crash behind us.
“Step on the gas.” Harry told me.
My foot immediately pressed lightly on the gas.
“Harder.” He instructed sharply, deep in concentration. I pressed harder on the gas pedal, feeling the car’s speed pick up. I saw we were on a straight road, but we were going over 60 MPH right now. The speed limit in the area was 45. There was a car in front of us but Harry swerved around them, roughly swerving back into the lane.
“Now when I say ‘go,’ I want you to slam on the brakes.” Harry told me. “Got it?”
I couldn’t reply. My mouth had gone dry.
Our speed increased to 70 and Harry suddenly shouted, “Go!”
I stepped hard on the brakes, the car screeching under my commands, and Harry turned the wheel sharply again. The entire car did a 360 in the middle of the road. Cars that were coming towards us quickly swerved out, honking at us irritably. Oh if only they knew Harry Styles was in the car.
As the car straightened out, the car that had been following us drove past us, not expecting us to pull this move.
“Go!” Harry shouted, glancing over his shoulder. I jumped a little, startled, and my foot dove on the gas pedal. The car staggered beneath me, going up to 60 again in mere seconds. I had to hand it to Harry, his car sure could go.
Harry kept a firm grip on the wheel. Unlike earlier, he didn’t look hesitant to drive. When the time came, he forced himself to come out of his comfort zone and do something he was terrible at. In all honesty, it was quite admiring. Without Harry, I would’ve crashed the car.
Without Harry I wouldn’t be getting shot at.
A few minutes passed until Harry muttered, “You can slow down now.” I took my foot off of the gas a little, feeling the car slow down. Harry took his hand off the wheel and I instantly grabbed it, my hands trembling. I forced myself to keep a grip; panicking would only make this worse. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm that the car was gone.
I was taking unsteady breaths. Oh how I wanted to just stop the car and…I don’t know…crawl into my bed. Not Harry’s bed, but my own bed.
I wanted to go home.
Harry’s world was so dangerous. Death was around every corner. I wanted to go back to my world, where people didn’t get dragged off the streets, and there were always nice people around that were brave enough to help. I wanted to go back to my world where the police lived to protect the people, and gangs were only fighting over money or drugs.
I wanted to go to a world without Harry.
I wordlessly pulled the car over into a local gas station. Harry asked me what I was doing, his green eyes looking at me, but I didn’t look at him. Tears were forming in my eyes, and I did not want to cry in front of him.
Niall wasn’t here to “comfort” me.
When the car stopped, I shakily took off my seat belt and got out of the car. I heard Harry get out, too, but I didn’t wait to see what he would do. I took off running almost blindly into the gas station. Where else could I go? I tore through the door, hearing the bell ring above, and I knew Harry was right behind me when I saw people literally drop everything they were holding and hide behind counters and such.
“Claire!” Harry shouted behind me. I ran across the tiled floor, my eyes immediately finding the bathroom. I hoped to god it was the kind where the doors locked. I ran inside and closed the door right in Harry’s face. I barely locked the door when Harry began pushing against it, trying to get inside.
“Claire!” Harry shouted from the other side of the door. “Open this door right now!”
“Leave me alone!” I replied hysterically, tears escaping my eyes. I felt like I was insane. I wanted out—there had to be a way, right?
“Open this damn door, or I’ll knock it down!”
I eyed the door cautiously and wondered if he could knock it down. It wasn’t wood. It looked thick and sturdy. There was no way he’d be able to open it.
“You’re going to get me killed!” I yelled, falling to the floor. I didn’t care that I was sitting on a bathroom floor. All I knew was that I was away from him. “The more time I spend with you, the more danger I’ll be in. I-I can’t take it.”
I began sobbing in the small bathroom. My weeping echoed through the thin walls, surrounding me in thick sound waves. My shoulders shook terribly as I cried into my hands. I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life. I’ve never been so scared. I didn’t want to live like this.
“There’s no reason you should be afraid.” Harry’s voice reached me. He almost sounded gentle.
I wiped at my eyes. “What?” I was genuinely intrigued by the sudden change in his voice.
“Because if anyone touched you, I would kill anyone they ever knew, and I would burn their house down.”
My eyes widened from the menacing sound of his voice. He sounded angry.
“If anyone ever lays a fucking hand on you,” Harry continued, louder this time, “I would make sure they—”
I suddenly heard more voices join him. I vaguely heard Louis’s voice, and my tears stopped falling when I heard Niall.
“What happened, mate?” Louis asked.
“They started shooting at us.” Harry told him angrily. “And now she won’t open the door.”
“We could always break it down.” Louis said it so casually, like it was nothing.
“I could try to talk to her.” Niall suggested. I was waiting for Harry to say something like “go comfort her.”
But instead, Harry snapped, “You two wait outside. I’ll be out there in a minute. I’ll talk to her.”
I stood up on shaky legs, feeling emotionlessly drained. Just an hour ago I was actually having an “okay” time. I almost had Harry apologize to me (what was the world coming to?) and I even learned that Harry had a morbid sense of humor. At least he had a sense of humor.
I didn’t know what I was thinking when I opened the door. I guess I knew I would have to come out some day, seeing that there was no window to crawl out of, and it would be better to do it now than have a furious Harry waiting for me.
However, Harry shoved me back inside, forcing his way inside as well. His taller form towered over mine as he closed the door behind him, and his all-pervading eyes were on me immediately.
“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again.” Harry told me firmly. There was one particular curl on the top of his head that was sticking up at the moment, and I couldn’t help but stare at it. Harry quirked an eyebrow at that, his eyes narrowing, “Claire, look at me.”
I forced myself to ignore the stubborn curl and mumbled, “You’re so confusing, Harry.”
“What?”
“I’ve never met someone as complex as you before.” I told him wearily. “I just can’t seem to figure you out.”
His eyebrows scrunched a little, in deep thought, as he replied, “I can’t figure you out either.”
I laughed a little at this, feeling my mood lighten. I didn’t know how it was happening, but it was. “There’s nothing complex about me.”
“Why’d you come here?” Harry asked suddenly, taking me off guard.
“I wanted to see the world.” I didn’t bother lying. I had no interesting story to why I came here. “I was planning on going to other countries after I came here, but once I saw this place, I fell in love.” I lowered my gaze shyly. “There was just something about this place that struck me. I didn’t want to leave.” But now I want to. And I can’t.
A sudden question came up to me. I asked, “Have you ever been somewhere else?”
“No.”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve never been anywhere else? Italy? America?”
“This is my town. I can’t just leave it.” Harry reminded me, that cocky smirk tugging on his lips. I noticed the pink-ish color of them. How come I never noticed that before? It wasn’t like it was unnatural, because it was very natural, but it made his lips look—
Why the hell am I studying his lips?
“Are you afraid of dying?” I asked softly, scrutinizing Harry’s features.
“No.” He replied slowly. “I’ve never been afraid of dying.”
“Why not? Aren’t you afraid of the pain?”
Harry shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me.”
I eyed him thoughtfully. “Is there anything that bothers you?” There has to be something.
“There are two things that bother me.” Harry said steadfastly. He stepped closer to me, grabbing me suddenly by the waist and bringing me flush against him. I inhaled sharply from his sudden movement, my heart leaping in my chest. “One, I hate it when amateurs like them think they can take this town from me. And two, I hate it when people touch,” His hands lowered to my bottom and my cheeks blazed, “what is mine.” He lowered his head to nuzzle my neck, his curly hair feeling soft against my cheek.
His voice was slightly muffled against my sensitive skin as he murmured, “I’m the most powerful man in this town, Claire. So why should you be afraid of anything?”
Once again, as he held me to him, I wondered why he hasn’t done anything terrible. Fran told me what he did to women, and he basically told me himself. Was he waiting for me to relax around him to do it?
Eventually I wound my arms snugly around his neck, feeling him move even closer. For this moment in time, I decided to stop worrying about what people have told me and focus on what was happening right now right in front of me.
“Go with Eleanor.” Harry told me as we entered a house just a bit smaller than his own. In my eyes, it was still huge. His eyes bored into mine as he said, “Do exactly what she says. Got it?”
There was a warning on his tone.
I nodded silently. He leaned down to press a chaste yet stingy kiss on my lips. When his tongue touched my lips, I brought my head back, knowing that the rest of his gang was in the same room, staring at us. He had that same cheeky grin as his hand swatted my butt lightly, and I swore I heard him say, “Mine.” I shot him a mortified glare, my face bright red, and felt someone lightly touch my arm.
It was Eleanor.
She wore a faint, pink sundress that screamed “innocence” and her long, brown hair fell down in gentle waves. In short, she was absolutely gorgeous. She wasn’t a striking kind of beauty, she was more of the natural kind. She shot me a gracious smile and began walking away into another room. I glanced over to see Louis’s blue eyes watching her every move, a predacious look in his eye. I could feel Harry staring at me, too, but I tried my best to ignore him and followed behind Eleanor without a word of complaint.
“Please close the door behind you,” She told me as we entered a room. It was a long room with wooden flooring. It had a television and sofas, along with a table of cards that were strewn across it in a messy manner. I did what she asked and closed the door. I felt a bit more comfortable with those men out of the room.
Eleanor turned around suddenly, holding out a frail arm. She had on a polite smile. “I’m Eleanor. It’s about time we properly met.”
I found myself smiling as I shook her hand. Her hand was so much smaller in mine. “I’m Claire. And yeah, I totally agree with you on that.”
She looked like such an innocent girl. How was she associated with Louis?
I guess it was the same reason why I was associated with Harry. She had no choice either? I suddenly found myself wanting to ask all kinds of questions. Eleanor saw the look in my eye and she laughed a little, going to take a seat at one of the sofas. She sat with a perfect posture, hands laid politely in her lap as her eyes looked over me. I found myself leaning back into the couch, enjoying the softness against my back, and tried to look a little good-mannered by crossing my legs. But I eventually gave up my polite façade and uncrossed my legs, pulling them against my chest to get comfortable. Screw courtesy.
“How did you get involved with Louis?” I asked.
“I actually knew him in high school.” She told me. “We dated for a few months in high school, but he got too possessive.”
“So you broke up with him?” I tried to picture Louis in high school. Since I barely knew him, other than the fact that he liked laughing, I couldn’t exactly picture it. All I could imagine him was wearing that notorious jacket and those dangerous blue eyes.
Eleanor nodded. “Yes. We still remained somewhat friends, but he always wanted to be something…more. When we graduated, I went on to get into modeling. I went to the states, but my modeling career wasn’t exactly successful. So I came back home. But when I returned, Louis wasn’t exactly the same.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No. Back in high school, he was almost like the class clown. He would get chastised in class often because of his spontaneous comments. He never got troubled by it. He would laugh. I did remember one day when a boy made fun of my skinny legs. Louis got into a terrible fight with him, and he got into major trouble.” She sighed. “He was honestly one of the sweetest boys I ever dated. He just…he had another side. I couldn’t handle it at the time.”
I noted how she said at the time.
She continued. “When I returned, I ran into Louis. At first, I was so excited to see him. I did miss him. I missed his jokes, I missed his randomness. But as I spent more time with him, I realized how much he had changed. He had joined an ill-reputed gang. But I could tell he still cared about me. And, in a sick and twisted way, I cared about him, too.”
She looked almost ashamed. Why?
“He does care about me.” She murmured. “In his own little way.”
“I don’t know much about Harry.” I told her. “But…” I hesitated. Should I tell her about the journal? Honestly, I was dying to tell somebody about my discovery. Someone who would understand. And who could understand better than a girl who was with a member of the gang?
“But what?” She probed, leaning forward a little looking interested in what I was saying.
“I found a journal in Harry’s house.” I told her quietly, afraid Harry would pop in and overhear. “It was his mother’s journal.” Eleanor’s eyes widened at that. “Apparently he had a terrible childhood.”
“I don’t think Louis had a bad childhood.” Eleanor told me, her voice quiet too.
We stared at one another for a few moments until we both started laughing. I immediately got off the couch I was sitting at and plopped down next to Eleanor. She visibly relaxed as well and her shoulders dropped their straightness a little. She ran a hand through her long hair, giving me a grateful smile.
“I always wonder how I got associated with Harry.” I told her earnestly.
“Same here.” She replied. “But…I can’t imagine life without Louis.”
I tried to imagine life without Harry. Well, I wouldn’t have had close experiences with death multiple times. I would probably be in my apartment right now, watching TV, or hanging out with Fran. I’d be living the normal life. Maybe one day I would’ve met the man of my dreams and I would’ve settled down.
But right now, my life was so upside down, I didn’t know what to think.
“Have you ever tried running away?” I asked Eleanor.
“I did once.” Her head hung a little. “But…let’s just say I got into trouble.”
“I know what you mean.” I blushed a little. I really did know what she meant.
“I love your accent.” She suddenly gushed, sounding excited. “It’s so intriguing.”
“You have an adorable accent, too.” I replied. “I don’t know why people always think my accent is amazing. It’s American and boring.” I chuckled a little.
“It isn’t boring.” She disagreed with a flick of a delicate wrist. “And I love your hair. It’s so beautiful.”
We immediately began talking “girl” stuff. We told one another about where we came from, and about embarrassing things that have ever happened to us. I felt so much better talking to Eleanor. She truly was a lovely person, inside and out. And whenever I spoke, it was like she listened to every little thing I said. She never seemed to get bored or uninterested; she always had a keen interest in everything I told her. I felt like it was the same with me. I’ve been deprived of having a loose conversation like this, so it was doing wonders to my mentality at the moment.
And then she asked a question that really caught me off guard:
“What are your feelings towards Harry?”
I hesitated at the question. I immediately said, “I hate him.” But it wasn’t true. I didn’t hatehim. I didn’t hate anyone. “I mean, I don’t hate him. I just…it’s complicated.” I took a deep breath and forced a feeble smile.
Eleanor smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, I understand what you’re going through. I’ve been there and done that.”
“What are your feelings for Louis?”
She smiled pensively and said, “I love him.”
I found it utterly adorable how she looked when thinking about Louis. Her entire body would tense up and her eyes would look dreamy. I could tell she really did care for Louis. She obviously cared a whole lot more for Louis than I did for Harry. I couldn’t even say I held any feelings towards Harry.
We talked a bit more until the doors opened and Louis walked in. Eleanor immediately got off the sofa and wordlessly went to him. He took her hand and led her from the room, not even acknowledging my presence.
Harry stood in the doorway now, and I knew he wanted me to do what Eleanor did. I reluctantly did so, letting out a loud sigh. His larger hand enclosed around mine as he began leading me out of the house. I barely saw Zayn disappearing into another room until we were alone again.
“Come on,” He said, “we need to get back.”
I remembered the groceries. “Will the milk still be okay?”
“Yeah.” Harry replied.
Just before I got into the car, I hesitated. Harry’s eyes shot to mine again, narrowing from my reluctance.
“Claire, get into the car.”
“Will you take me home today?” I asked cautiously.
He didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Get into the car.”
“Why can’t you answer my question?” I forced myself to muster enough strength to look him in the eyes. The beanie he wore seemed to restrain his curly hair, which curled copiously at his neck.
“It’s not safe for you there.” He said sharply. “Don’t you understand? The only safe place for you now is if you’re with me. They’ll find you, Claire. And when they do…”
“No,” I murmured, horrified. “No. That can’t be right. What do they want with me?”
He quickly looked away. “They just do.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Harry?”
“I won’t let you go back to your apartment.” He told me firmly this time, leaving no room for argument. “Tomorrow we’ll get your stuff and you’ll move in with me.”
Whoa. Hold up a second.
“I can’t move in with you!” I said loudly, my heart pounding in my chest.
Harry looked at me calmly. “You can and you will.”
“I’m so sick of you telling me what to do.” I hissed. “Ever since you stepped into my life, I’ve gotten nothing but trouble. I’m sick of it! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Harry quickly brought up his hand, and I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me. And I think he really was. But he didn’t, which really shocked me. Breathing heavily, I looked at him warily, watching as his arm was stopped mid-air. He looked at me with a frenzied expression, obviously conflicted about something.
He stayed like that for a few seconds, and to avoid angering him further, I scrambled into the car. I closed my door immediately, feeling better now that there was a barrier separating us.
When he got into the car, he wouldn’t look at me. I fondled with my fingers, feeling the tension in the air.
“Harry—” I started, taking a gentle tone.
But he cut me off, grabbing my hair roughly and grasping me into a frenzied kiss. I felt his hands tangle in my hair as he kissed me profoundly, his lips molding endlessly against mine. I was running out of air to breath, and I had begun to feel light-headed when he pulled away abruptly. That frenzied look was gone, and he was grinning crookedly again. He looked back to normal.
And I sat there, a little dazed from the kiss. My lips were throbbing a little from the roughness from the kiss, but my insides felt warm. When I glanced over at Harry and saw his arms flexing a little as he turned the wheel, my eyes glazed over a little and I had the sudden temptation to reach over and kiss him.
But, of course, that was merely a temptation. I didn’t put it into action. I quickly looked out the window and tried to rid the thought out of my mind.
Damn you, Harry.

Notes

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