The Kidnapping (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 22 - Long Way Down

Harry had no idea how to feel. In the moment, he hadn't had time to be scared, but now, with the adrenaline no longer coursing through his veins, all he could feel was dread.

He didn't think he'd ever been this terrified before, not even when he'd been kidnapped. He wasn't entirely sure why, but this time, it was so much worse, because no matter what he'd been through, it was always targeted at him, and yet this time, to think that he'd put someone else in danger, was almost worse than the act itself.

They'd been together, all of them in their dressing room, getting ready for their next show, when his phone had lit up and he'd walked out to take the call.

He'd known there was something wrong almost immediately.

The number was unknown, but his gut had twisted uncomfortably and he'd decided to answer anyway, idly twisting his silver rings as he waited patiently for the call to connect.

"Hello?" He questioned, listening intently for the person on the end side of the line to speak.

"Hello, Styles."

The conversation hadn't been long, but Harry, in his heart, had already known what it was about.

He was given an hour, to leave the boys and Louis. An hour to collect anything he would need, rushing to the tour bus to throw together most of his belongings before any of the boys figured out what was going on.

Once everything had been in place, he'd answered the call from Zayn, making up some bullshit excuse about leaving the band and telling them not to contact him for a while. He tried to buy himself as much time as possible. The further away from the boys he was when they eventually figured it out, the better.

They would have most likely gotten in the way, tried to convince him to go to the police.

Harry had dealt with these people before, sure- he'd barely escaped with his life, but that only made him more determined not to get anyone else involved. He wasn't entirely sure on the motive behind his sister's abduction, but he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he, for some reason, couldn't seem to tune out.

It had been so easy to craft the argument with Louis, he prayed that he would eventually understand the hints he tried to tell him but he wasn't holding out much hope. If anything, he just wanted to make sure that after all this was over, even if he was no longer here, Louis would still be okay. Harry wanted him to know that nothing that was happening was his fault, knowing fully well how much Lou tended to overthink things. He wouldn't want Louis to blame himself, especially when it wasn't anyone's fault but his own.

He hated the fact that he'd hurt Louis, but it was necessary. Louis said it himself: Harry couldn't say that he wouldn't put his family over him... he wasn't sure if that meant he was loyal or not.

Finally, he'd stopped off at a small shop, picking up a burner phone, some food for later and a large oversized beanie that he saw out of the corner of his eye at the last second. He pulled the hat over his head, adjusting his hood so his face was completely concealed before flagging down a taxi and falling in.

As soon as he had texted the Man the number for his burner phone he'd tossed his old one, hoping that no one would pick it up and the weather would destroy it in time. Everything was backed up on the iCloud anyway, it was more of a hassle than anything else.

It was the quiet moments that seemed to be the hardest; when his brain wasn't occupied, his thoughts flew freely around his head, millions of different scenarios playing out behind his closed, blank eyes.

He tried to focus on the small spots of dust on the window, continually moving in his seat to keep his body from shutting down completely. The whole world seemed to have shifted on its axis- the only important thing now was that Gemma was going to be okay - everything else in his life had automatically become secondary.