Poker Game |H.S|

12

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Estella Williams

I subtly shook my head to snap out of my thoughts, hearing Niall's voice.

"A ride?"

"Yup, choose your rider," he answered my obvious and pointless question with a cocky smile. Harry turned his head towards me with a nasty smirk, leaning against one of the bikes that may be his. I really don't trust any of them, but Harry scares me the most. I also remembered the time if he killed a man at the restaurant, making a risky exit by changing the motorbike's driving angle, standing on the back wheel and raising his hands in the air in triumph.

"I will come with you Niall," I said in a monotone voice, walking towards the other motorbike and standing next to it, waiting for Niall to join me. I noticed Harry rolling his eyes at my predictable choice.

"Good choice, Mrs. Williams," he said cheerfully as he sat on his bike and started the engine. I looked at Harry, who mimicked his actions. He took his helmet from behind him and placed it on his lap. His expression became serious for a moment, something I often saw from him. He raised his right hand, running his long fingers through his brown curls before putting on the helmet.

I saw golden rings on all of his fingers, but one in particular stood out to me. It was larger and round, shining brightly. Although I couldn't see it clearly from a distance, it seemed special on his index finger. He put on his black helmet, and as he did, I noticed his biceps flexing. He wore a black t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans, showing off his numerous tattoos that piqued my curiosity about their stories. I couldn't help but stare at him in that moment. He didn't look at me or Niall for those ten seconds, clearly ignoring me as much as he disliked me. But in that moment, he looked undeniably attractive.

"Get on the motorbike," ordered Niall, as he noticed me lost in thought. I turned to him, realizing we needed to leave. I grabbed the helmet from behind him and sat down on the black seat.

"Hold me tightly and put the helmet on," he instructed. I nodded and obeyed.

"You're not wearing one?" I asked, concerned. "I only have one, but a ten-minute drive shouldn't be a problem," he reassured me, though his words seemed laced with a hint of a lie. I heard Harry snickering quietly beside me. As Niall revved the engine and Harry unpredictably sped off, I tightened my grip around Niall's waist. Niall followed him too with a surprising speed.

The wind whipped through my hair, some strands landing on my shoulder. "Niall, can I ask you something?" I raised my voice to ensure he could hear me. "Of course," he replied, matching my volume.

"Who was the real killer in last Sunday's crime involving Frederick and James?"

Niall hesitated before responding, "You already know who it was, don't you?" he said, his tone going serious.

"Was it, Harry?" I demanded, but this time in my normal tone. The situation had become serious as we needed to build trust between us since we were now on the same team. Our attention shifted to Harry as we turned our heads towards him, not because we had mentioned him, but because of his actions. We were on the road and he was two meters away from us.

Suddenly, he lifted the front side of his bike, getting on the back wheel from behind. Slowly, he raised his hands in the air and cheered as the wind blew his hair and t-shirt back. He appeared carefree and free in that moment.

But then I realized that he was the one who had killed the man. The motorbike, the angle, the position, and the arm movements were all the same. It was clearly Harry.