One Direction's S*x Slave

* Brooke's POV *

I was awakened to an abrupt stop. I flashed my eyes open, looking at my surroundings. Liam was in the driver's seat, staring at me. "Sorry, babe! The light changed as soon as we were in front." he whispered, almost half asleep himself. He gently placed his palm on my knee where my legs swung over the chair so my feet were resting on his lap.

He gently pressed his foot on the gas and the car started. I slowly looked at him, my eyelids began to feel like bricks were slowly being stacked on top of them and I slowly drifted to slumber.

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I felt a gentle hand on my thigh, shaking it gently but with force. I fluttered my eyes open to find the sun was out and birds were singing. He gave me a small grin, "Good Morning, sweetie. I went into your phone and found a tracking device of Kailee's phone." he said, calmly there was a hint of fear in his voice. I gave him a look that could show a full sentence. "What the fuck, Liam!?" I yelled. He giggled to himself and stared back at me. "I'm trying to help you! I know, I feel like a stalker too." he giggled. I couldn't do anything more but giggle as well. There's something about him that gets me laughing quickly no matter what mood I'm in.

We hopped out of the car and approached a massive building. I examined every single window carefully, hoping there would be at least some form of life lingering inside. I noticed a room that got my attention fairly quickly. There seemed to be a faint discoloration on the window. I took a few steps back and stared at the section of the window. A faint, red color came into view. In reaction, I gasped and fell to the sidewalk leading towards the house. "Liam!" I whispered. "Look at that window!" I said, a little bit louder this time, pointing to the red window. He jumped and ran to me, picking me up and holding me tight. "That damn well better be coming from Greyson, and not your friend." he said, aggression pulling through in his British accent.

He immediately let go of the tight squeeze he called a hug and ran to the door, fists pounding against it. "Open up you bastard!" he screamed. Then he realized, we were supposed to go to the coffee shop, separately. He looked back up at the window to find a fresh, hand print stain. A small patch of fresh blood made tear-like streams to the bottom of the window pane.

He pounded on the door, at least 10 times harder. "Open up your sun of a bitch!" he screeched, his aggression turning into powerful fists against the wooden door. The door gave out and collapsed. He ran towards me, dragging me behind him while I sobbed into my hands. He ran upstairs with me to where the hand prints of blood were located from. He quickly slammed his palm on the doorknob...

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