Twisted (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 9

9.

"What the fuck happened, Claire?" Harry nearly growled as soon as a sleek, black car skidded to a stop in front of me. Harry got out of the back, and he towered over me, staring hard down at me.

I was still shook up from earlier, and after waiting for 20 minutes on Harry to show up, I decided to sit up against the wall.

"I went to the airport-"

"why did you go to the airport?" Harry roared, attracting a lot of attention from the streets. I saw a couple of people scramble out of the scene, knowing that One Direction was involved with this section of the city right now.

I flinched a little from the ferocity of his voice. I then caught a glimpse of Niall sitting in the car, looking down at his phone. He wore the signature jacket, and to me, it looked bulky on him. For some reason, even though I've never seen him without it, I didn't picture Niall as a big, muscular guy.

I clambered desperately for an excuse that Harry wouldn't explode at. "I, uh, wanted to..." When I came up with nothing, I looked down, afraid to even look up at Harry. Right now he was seething, and I thought he was going to punch the wall or something.

"You were trying to leave, weren't you." He stated loudly, trying to get me to look up. "Look at me right now, Claire."

When I didn't do it, he growled, "I said to fucking look at me when I'm talking to you! Now!" From the sound of his voice, I brought my head up, and he snapped again, "And stand up. Get off the floor."

I did what he said, getting on my wobbly knees. I leaned back into the wall as an attempt to be as far away from Harry as possible.

"You thought you could get away from me?" He demanded sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. I noticed how his jacket looked a bit bulky too but not as much as Niall's did.

"Yesterday really scared me." I said quietly, trying to look anywhere but Harry's furious gaze.

"So you thought you could board a fucking plane and just leave?"

I replied sheepishly, "Yeah."

"And what happened at the airport?"

"A guy disguised as a security guard dragged me in one of the hallways." I explained shakily, furrowing my brows to remember correctly. "He, um, had blonde hair and blue eyes-"

"I don't give a shit what he looks like." Harry cut me off, waving his hand. "Tell me what happened."

I noted silently that when Harry was angry, he tended to cuss a while lot more.

"Well, he said he worked for that Russian guy. Vladarmia?"

"Vladimir." Harry corrected me, his features softening when realization dawned on him.

For once, instead of his emotionless and cocky self, I saw something that resembled concern. "What did he do? Did he touch you?"

"He said that Vladimir wanted revenge or something for killing that guy yesterday. He wanted to take it out on me." I said, my entire body shaking as I remembered what happened just half an hour ago. It was still fresh in my mind. I remembered how he took out the knife, and how he talked about sending a gruesome message so casually, like it was nothing. "He wanted to send some message to you through me."

"So he did touch you?" Harry asked again, looking angry. Was that all he cared about?

I ignored his question and went on. "I got away by running. He wasn't very fast. But don't you see why I tried to run away?" I could feel myself beginning to tear up, and I hated feeling like this in front of Harry. I dabbed at my eyes, blinking rapidly to try and chase away my emotions. But I knew that I needed some kind of consoling - from anyone. And honestly, it would be great if Harry could step in and tell me everything would be all right.