redemption: harry styles

Chapter Sixteen

Harry's P.O.V.

After a long shower, I felt a little better. My legs were still weak and my brain was spinning. I was in a dangerous stage of the hangover, and it felt as if I were to puke sooner or later.

But that doesn't stop me from going outside.

Today was the day. There was literally nothing for me to do right now, so why not? Evelyn must be asleep, anyway. She doesn't need to know where I am.

After breaking my lock, I left the house.

-

I killed the engine of my car and slipped out.

A massive sign on the hospital wrote Royal Jackson Hospital in bulky white letters. I entered the building. It was a spacious place. There was a nice, white desk at the far back with a familiar red-head sitting behind it.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I awkwardly made my way to the receptionist. At the corner there was a bunch of sick kids reading small books, sitting on beanbags. Next to them their parents sat cheerfully. The walls were painted pink and baby blue. The chairs were black and white. On the side there was McDonald's, young people eating quietly.

It was a disgusting sight for me. I wish I had my gun.

I shot Noelle a fake smile, hoping to get this over with. "Hello again, Henry!" Noelle chirped, tightening her red lips. And no, she didn't mistake my name. I can't say, 'Oh, hi. I'm Harry Styles, AKA the criminal who was probably the reason behind half the people her.' I had to say a fake name.

"Here to visit?" the old woman smiled raising her drawn-on brows. I simply nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from screaming in impatience.

Noelle handed me a pair of keys. "You know where it is." Ignoring her goodbye and pitied glance, I stalked down the hallway. Feeling absolutely vulnerable.

I stopped when I came by a white door. It had a few roses on the top corner. In the middle, a clipboard was stuffed into the wooden door, reading some medical requires for the patient, check-up dates and times, and her name.

I stood there for a moment, debating if I wanted to do this.

With trembling fingers, I unlocked the door.

The room in here was pure white; the curtains, the chairs, the ground, the bed...the bed where she lay.

I felt my shoulders slump and my eyes narrow. 

Yes narrow. Not get watery,  I never cry.

Or never did until the accident.

But I still felt my body go limp as I dragged myself towards her. My eyes closed when I saw her pale figure lying unconscious on the bed.

But that feeling I felt when I saw him was unbelievable.

Finally meeting my sister's mate. The bastard that hurt her so many times. She'd introduced me to him with a fake smile. I remember how nice he looked, but knew how bad he was on the inside. So I felt guilt for the first, tiny second when he smiled at me and extended his hand. I grabbed it without caution, and then screams began.

She did not deserve this. All because of me...she was in this. Gemma was and has been in a coma for over two years. Two fucking years. And it's because of me. Me.

That's why I'm like this. That is the reason I am a criminal.

I killed him. I killed her man.

And then all this shit happened where people were on the chase of a seventeen year old boy. Police, helicopters...even regular people, all on the hunt.