Bodyguard [narry]

Chapter 15.5

The time when Niall was in jail 

[Niall]

It's been hours since I was arrested. Hours. Long fucking hours. I'm sitting in the corner of the cell which is full of nothing, literally nothing, there isn't even a single place to sit except from the floor. I couldn't imagine the place to be like this, in my imagination a prison cell was more... comfortable. I'm not saying that it must have a table with chair and a lovely bed with fresh new sheet. Of course not, but at least a place where a human being could sleep in the right. But not in this one. Not in this cell. If I have to stay in jail a while, I'm truly hoping I'm going to have another cell or at least I hope they're going to give a place to sleep which isn't the hard cold floor. But deep down I deserve it maybe. 

I'm feeling strange.

I'm here for a crime I didn't commit. I didn't kill people. I didn't kill another human being. I didn't take a life of somebody else. I would never do this... I think. Actually I'm not quite convinced of my statement. It would have been the case a few months ago but now that I've met him... I could kill... to protect him. I would do anything for him. Anything. But I would never never try to hurt him, not like this. Not like they think I did. I didn't kill his gardner. I didn't even know where he lived before accepting the job as bodyguard. I knew where his old flat was but as millions of other people on this earth. 

My head hurts.

They told me in the car from my apartment to here what kind of charges and proofs they've had or found against me. They showed me the pictures. Pictures of me in a restaurant, pictures of me in front of a building which was purely by chance the building where he lived, pictures of me standing in back entrance of a concert place which was the night when he performed and I was only one of the security men, pictures of me walking behind him, well we live in the same city which isn't one of the biggest city in the whole world, it's normal that I've by chance walked near him, isn't it?

I want to laugh. 

But what concerned me the most and which I haven't an answer to is my fingerprint on the knife that killed his gardener. I have a knife. Well, I'm a bodyguard, of course I'm in the possession of one, I also have a gun. But this one I've never seen it before. How could my fucking fingerprint be on it. I don't know. I don't have a clue. 

"Mister Horan, please show me your hands." 

I comply it. The agent handcuffs me. And to be honest, not in the way I like to be handcuffed. Well, it isn't the exactly right time to think about this kind of stuff, stupid. 

Where am I going? He opens the gate and a second agent arrives and orders me to follow him. We passe hundred of cells and almost everyone is asleep which makes me wonder what time we are. Is it the middle of the night? It's strange because the prison seems very bright or is it just my imagination? 

Suddenly the guard behind me pushes me hard, hard enough to make me lose balance and fall on the floor. I would normally stand up and face him but I'm not really allowed to do this in here. They are rules and I know them really well. I know that some don't care about rules and would have started a fight but if I'm to stay here I prefer to be as invisible as possible and challenging a guard isn't really the way to get invisible. 

"Stand up, faggot." 

Faggot. What a stupid word. A world that should be banished from this planet. Faggot. 

He kicks me two times in my stomach and is about to continue when another voice appears.

"Davis! Stop it, right now." 

I know this voice. I've heard it before. I look up. Calum. 

"I take him from here, you may leave now."