Twisted (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 16

Fran POV

Why isn't Claire answering her phone?

I set the phone down with a heavy sigh once I heard the robotic voice telling me to leave a voicemail message. I had the urge to try calling her once again, with hopes of her actually answering, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I've called her 20 times in the past hour. Not once has she answered.

I took a seat on the couch, my eyes wandering to my TV. I saw the flashing images, yet I didn't see them. My mind was elsewhere.

Was she okay? Was Harry hurting her? Why isn't she answering my bloody calls?

Distraught with worry, I grabbed my TV remote and tried watching the show. However, no matter how hard I tried to get my mind off of Claire, I kept remembering that night when she showed up on my doorstep, not realizing that she just spoke with a man that might as well be the devil himself.

It's all my fault. I should've warned her. If I had, she never would have went into the alley.

All my fault.

And now Harry is interested in her. I knew how dangerous he was. I've seen him with women before-how he was so possessive towards them, even though I knew perfectly well he just treated them like they were an object. He was no normal human. He had no feelings towards women, no respect. He was simply the womanizer of the group.

So why was he so interested in Claire?

I knew the moment I met Claire that she had something different about her. Maybe it was because she didn't know true fear, coming from America. I knew all of this, so I tried hiding it from her. I tried hiding the ugliness of London. I kept her from going near the alleys. I kept her busy by interesting her into going to the cinema often. It was all in vain, a futile attempt.

Yes, Claire was different than women here. She was so unaware to what was truly going on. She didn't see the fear of people around her. That is, until now.

I buried my head in my hands, gritting my teeth. I've barely had a wink of sleep ever since that night. Guilt had overwhelmed me. I was the reason Claire was in a life-or-death situation. I was the one who could've warned her. But I didn't.

I knew Harry must've done something to her. He couldn't have done nothing. He was a heartless twat. Even though Claire told me through the phone that all he did was slap her, I knew he had to have done something else.

I didn't even want to think about it.

What if she was dead right now?

Jumping from my seat, I nearly ran back to the phone and dialed her number again. I waited tensely for her voice to answer the phone, but let out a sigh of despair when the dial tone answered. Swallowing heavily, I leaned against the counter and hoped with all my heart that Claire was still alive.

What the bloody hell is he doing to her right now?

Feeling utterly hopeless, I wandered off into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I hated myself right now. I was responsible for-

Knock knock knock.

I nearly sprung out of my chair. Was that Claire? Could it be? Did she escape somehow?

Feeling a surge of hope, I ambled quickly to my front door and swung it open. However, as soon as I saw who was there, my smile was wiped clean from my face and my heart nearly stopped beating.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, frozen on the spot.

He smirked.

Instead of answering me, Harry Styles pushed past me into my own house. I immediately backed up, nearly tripping over my own feet, and eyed him in pure terror. My senses were out of control. My breathing had picked up just from the sight of Harry Styles.