Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight





"Do you miss your parents?"

Harry's sudden question caught me slightly off guard. I was lounging lazily on his chest with a book in front of me; just something I found sitting on Gemma's shelf, and he was silent, just running his fingers through my hair with his other arm wound loosely around my waist. We were supposed to go to bed until we heard the sound of rain hitting the roof earlier-another storm was working its way in. The news called for a vicious thunder storm that would last through all night. I actually found it soothing to sleep with the sound of rain outside, but I didn't find it soothing with the loud thunder, which was still to come.

"Of course I miss my parents." I grumbled, closing the book. "Why are you asking?"

"Have you ever thought of going to see them?"

I peered over at Harry over my shoulder; his eyes were closed in relaxation, and his mouth was barely parted to allow himself to breath softly. He looked exhausted when he came home before dinner-god knows what he's done today.

"No, I haven't." I mumbled, feeling suddenly bitter from the topic.

"Why not?"

"Because they told me I couldn't. They said that if I left, that I was never to come back." My throat tightened when I recalled this, and I felt Harry's arm tighten around my waist to press me closer against him. His lips brushed against my cheek in an affectionate gesture.

"They seem like assholes." He murmured.

"I've never heard from them since." I said quietly. "They've never made an effort to see if I was okay, or if I was even alive. They've never sent mail, they've never called...it's like I was never part of their family, just like they said. At the time, I honestly believed that we were all just a moment. You know, like maybe they didn't really mean what they said. But I guess they did."

"They don't seem much like parents." Harry grumbled flatly. "Throwing their kid out on the street with nothing but a few wads of cash?" He scoffed quietly.

"Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake." I murmured. "Sometimes I wonder where I'd be right now, if I never left. I'd probably have my own flat with a high-paying stable job. My parents would be so proud of me."

I could see myself, sporting those modest uniforms lawyers wore or wearing those doctor suits. I could see myself owning my own modern flat with perhaps a confident, working boyfriend who cared deeply for me. We'd have a normal life, get married, and my parents would still be part of it.

But now they were only a long lost memory.

"I think you did the right thing." Harry whispered. "You did what you've wanted to do, Claire. Your parents seemed like they just wanted to control you; it was good you stood your ground and sought out your own life."

"You really think so?" I turned around to face him, putting the book on the desk next to the bed to get closer to Harry without any object separating us. He took his fingers out of my hair to wrap around my waist now, pulling me flush against him.

Our foreheads pressed against one another, and I was staring deeply into a pair of vivid, deep emerald eyes.

"I know so." He replied in a hushed tone, his eyes glancing down at my lips. "Besides, it brought you to London. That was definitely good."

In other words, he was saying It brought you to me.

He was just too "manly" to say it.

"I'm glad it brought me to London, too," I whispered, boldly reaching upwards to press my lips somewhat shyly against his warm lips. Harry's response was almost immediate; his knee jutted in between my legs to part them, and he hoisted himself up so he was splayed overtop me in between my legs, his lips pressing back firmly against mine. I wound my arms snugly around his neck, gently scraping against the very ends of his curls on the back of his neck.

The sound of the rain was distant and soothing; that is, until a sound of booming thunder was heard, and I unconsciously stiffened under Harry from the loud sound.

He chuckled breathlessly against my lips, his eyes gazing warmly down at me. "Scared of the thunder?"

I cleared my throat, "No, I'm just scared of the noise."

"Which is the thunder." His eyes were alit with playfulness, taking amusement in my fear of thunder.

"You-"

The lights flickered off in the next very moment, and for once, I didn't feel afraid when that happened. I didn't know why the lights always seemed to go out when it thundered outside, but they always seemed to do that.

"You should know by now," Harry murmured huskily, his lips now on my neck, "that you don't have to be afraid when I'm with you."

Already my heart was picking up its rate from Harry's gentle kisses, and I arched into his touch when his large hand cupped my breast through my shirt. My arousal was turned on in mere seconds-just from one touch of Harry, and I was alive underneath him. I rolled my head back so Harry could have more access to my neck, and he took the invitation eagerly, not hesitating for a moment.

I reached down to run my hands down his firm chest; I could feel how firm he was through the thin cotton shirt he wore, and I cheekily ducked my hand under his shirt to feel his taunt muscle even better. Harry stiffened on top of me, letting out a deep sigh from my gentle yet firm touch, and he started to lightly suck on a skin on my neck when I raised my hand to his upper chest, exploring his bare body in the dark.

There was another sound of thunder, but I barely heard it. All I could hear, all I could focus on right now was the rustling of our movements and the sounds of our breathing.

Harry's hard-on was pressing into my crotch now; I retaliated by slyly tightening my hold around him with my legs, locking ankles and grinding up into him with a coy grin. He pulled away, eliciting a shuddering breath from my movement.

"You little vixen," He breathed, staring down at me with utter admiration.

I couldn't help but giggle from the look he gave me, and I fisted the t-shirt he wore to bring him almost forcefully in front of me, pressing my lips back to his. He responded with sudden fervor and enthusiasm, both of his hands under my shirt now, pushing away my bra to feel my bareness and his hips grinding right up against mine.

"Uncle Harry?"

A small voice tore through our world, and Harry pulled sharply away from me as if I was on fire, and sat up in the bed with his gaze staring towards the door. I quickly pulled my bra back in place, shakily fixing my hair, and followed his gaze.

There Lottie stood in the doorway; I could see her tiny form standing there, and her bright green eyes evident in the dimness obscuring us.

"Uncle Harry?" She asked again, with a tremble in her voice.

"What's wrong, Lottie?" Harry asked, instantly concerned by the sound of her voice. I pulled myself up to a sitting position next to him.

"I'm scared." She admitted. I remembered the last thunder storm we had, and how terrified the little girl was. Another thunder rolled by, and a yelp was heard; the soft pattering of running feet evident in the air as she hurried to the bed.

"Come here," Harry murmured gently, reaching down to hoist her onto the bed. He held her protectively in his arms, tucking away some strands of hair away from her face.

"I-I'm so scared," She was close to tears now, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and burying her face in his chest.

"I've got you," He whispered, leaning back to the head of the bed and lying down. "You can sleep with me and Claire tonight, alright? You know we won't let anything happen to you."

Lottie nodded meekly in reply, and I lay next to the both of them, feeling Harry pick the covers up to cover most of our bodies. Lottie was tucked safely into Harry's chest, and his eyes met mine, his lips pulling back in a smug grin, evidently prideful of his handling of the situation.

Someone's a big shot, I mouthed with a smirk, rolling my eyes when he winked over at me.





"Anything can happen now."

"It all depends on her, mate."

"No, she's only got a few pieces left on the board."

"Yeah, but if she makes one wrong move it could cost her the entire game. Same goes to Liam."

"I can see several places she can go, but it wouldn't matter because he has so any more pieces than her. There's no way."

"You've gotta keep hope alive, mate."

"It would be great if I could possibly concentrate," I said slowly, dry, turning to give a glare to Louis and Niall, who had been murmuring to one another, thinking I couldn't hear any of it.

They shut up instantly, staring at the board of checkers we had splayed out.

I was facing Liam, who had the reputation of never losing. I used to play checkers and chess all the time, and even though I always preferred chess, we were playing checkers right now only because Gemma didn't have a chess board-she only had a checkers board.

And right now, I was losing terribly to Liam.

I had no idea he was this smart.

Every single move he made was precise, calculated, as if he always had something planned in his mind. When I played, I could occasionally stage a double-jump here and there, but for the most part I just made my moves without any notions. I could predict certain outcomes when the game proceeded any further, but from the beginning, I kind of just went with the flow.

Right now, I had 3 pieces left.

Liam had 7.

He double-jumped me twice, and he jumped me in places I couldn't even predict until it was merely too late.

But I fought on.

I moved my pieces, taking my time now, trying to calculate where my decisions would take me.

But before too long, Liam got me cornered with my last piece, and I had no choice but to lose.

He was grinning broadly, evidently proud of himself, and his brown eyes glanced at me. "That was a great game, Claire. I'll admit, you were a worthy opponent."

I flushed from his compliment. I was still getting used to...this. Not only a month or two ago I was stuck in a club, perched on Harry's lap, and if I even spoke one word out of line, these boys had the right to put me back in my place.

And now I was playing checkers with them.

There were certainly times when I had no idea how to act, and this was definitely one of those times.

"Same goes to you," I mumbled, getting off the seat and stretching my arms out above my head.

"I'm going to whoop your ass," Louis announced to Liam, quickly taking my place on the seat and Niall adding a comment. I walked away from the living room, heading to the kitchen where Lottie was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal, and Eleanor was stirring something in a bowl.

"What're you making?" I asked.

"Just some peanut butter cookies." She replied with a smile.

"Need some help?"

"Well, I already have the dough done; I just have to refrigerate it for a few hours."

I leaned up against the counter thoughtfully for a moment, my eyes glancing over at the basement door. "I think I'm going to work out for a bit."

Her brown eyes glanced at me, surprised for a moment, "Yeah?"

I used to work out regularly, because working out was obviously good for your body. But honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I worked out, and my body was starting to feel stiffer and stiffer by each passing day. Harry was out doing business again, so I didn't see anything wrong with working out.

I headed upstairs to change into some shorts I had and a plain tank top; I pulled my hair back in a tight, low bun, and headed back down, pausing to grab a water bottle from the fridge. Lottie was humming lightly under her breath as she ate her cereal, and I could hear Louis suddenly exclaim something from the living room concerning the checkers match he was playing with Liam.

The basement did hold some bad, terrifying memories for me, and I was stricken with sick nostalgia, my eyes gazing out at the mirrors reflecting me. I could remember walking down here when Harry almost killed me, and I gingerly touched the spot on my neck. The bruises were gone, but I could still feel his fingers squeezing around me. And even though I knew Harry would never do that again, the memory would never just go away. It'll always be there.

But I couldn't let them eat me alive.

Sighing, I set my water bottle down and began stretching out my stiff limbs. I had to admit, it felt good to stretch for a bit-it loosened my limbs and made a weight leave my shoulder. There was a radio down here, so I put my phone on it to play some music while I worked out. The basement was completely quiet, and the lights were dim from this level. The air was also so much cooler down here as opposed to the air up at the house, on ground level.

I found myself quietly humming along to the song playing at the moment as I sat on the ground, stretching out my legs to reach forward, reaching for my toes.

Give me give me give me what you got got

Cause I can't wait wait wait any more more more more

Don't even talk about the consequence

Cause right now you're the only thing that's making any sense to me

I took a good few moments to stretch, and when I was done, I found the treadmill up against the mirror. Great, so I could watch myself sweat like a pig when I worked out.

Just perfect.

And I don't give a damn what they say, what they think think

Cause you're the only one who's on my mind

I'll never ever let you leave me

I'll try to stop time for ever, never wanna hear you say goodbye (bye bye bye)

At first, my body was energized, eager to work out and relieve some tension. And I hated seeing my reflection staring back at me, so I mainly focused my gaze down at my legs, watching them move quickly underneath me.

In only a few moments, I was panting loudly, and my legs were screaming.

Yeah, I was this out of shape.

I feel so untouched

And I want you so much

That I just can't resist you

It's not enough to say that I miss you

I was never a track runner, but I did build up good stamina when I worked out often. But right now, I had to stop running to take a break after awhile, and when I glanced up, I literally yelped loudly when I saw a figure standing a few feet behind me, staring at my reflection.

It was Zayn.

My heart leapt in my chest, and the dark-skinned male silently turned off the music, ensuing silence in the air. I whirled to face him, instantly feeling nervous by his ominous presence.

"What do you want?" My voice unintentionally came out defensive, and I swallowed thickly, glancing over the taller male to look for signs of aggression.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He said, surprising me. He sounded flat and...calm? He wasn't snapping at me, and his dark eyes weren't set in a tight, judging glare.

No, he was staring at me. Watching me.

"Then what do you want?" I asked quieter this time, confused.

"I needed to talk to you." He sighed to himself, sitting on the bench off to the side and leaning forward. I stayed standing, deciding on not letting my guard down; it wasn't my fault I didn't trust Zayn. He's given me plenty of reasons not to trust him, ever since I met him.

But why did he want to talk to me?

"Go on," I mumbled, grabbing my water and taking a large sip. God, my chest was hurting-I was really out of shape.

"Do you remember the time when I almost killed you?" Zayn asked quietly. "And when Harry almost killed me?"

How could I forget?

"Yeah, I remember."

His dark eyes rose to meet mine, and he said, "Why did you stop Harry from killing me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you let him? I nearly killed you, so...why did you protect me?" He uttered the last two words in a whisper, evidently confused about this. I supposed confusion was better than annoyance or wickedness, right? I began to relax instantly once I realized his intentions were not dark-that he was not here to kill me again. So I sat across from him on the other bench, setting my water bottle to the side.

"Because I don't think it's right to kill anyone." I replied softly.

"But I tried killing you, and I raped your friend." Zayn retorted.

"Yeah, I know this. But killing someone is never the answer." I replied slowly. "It never is." I was unconsciously reminded of how I saw the woman and her son being beheaded-it was strange how a body could be moving, and in the next few moments, it could be lifeless. Never to move again. A soul occupying that body, leaving it as an empty shell.

"That still doesn't make sense." Zayn insisted firmly. "Hell, you don't make sense. I've been trying to figure you out from the very beginning, and I'm getting nowhere."

"You're trying to figure me out?" I couldn't help but chuckle. What was there to figure out about me?

"I'm trying to figure out why Harry is so smitten by you." Zayn grumbled, and this made a whole lot more sense. "At first, I thought it was because you were a good shag. And then I figured he just wanted to toy with you, and now, lately, I'm so confused. It doesn't make any fucking sense-none of it."

"Harry loves me." I said softly. "That's all there is to it."

"That whole statement doesn't make any sense." Zayn muttered.

"Why can't you accept the fact that Harry loves me?"

"Listen, when I first met Harry, I was at my lowest point." His voice rose a bit to seize my full attention, and his clasped his hands tightly together before he continued, "I was fucked up, I'll admit. I was desperate and I was weak. But Harry saw something in me, and he took me in; he taught me everything I know. He taught me how to shoot a gun, he taught me how to fight, he taught me how to survive. He never asked me about my past-he never judged me. Normally people ask you who you were before this or what you did, but Harry never did any of that. He just took me in as one of his men, and he made me who I am today.

"Harry always taught me that you have to be strong to survive. He said you can't be weak and survive, not in this world, and I came to learn this. He said to be careful who you put your trust into." Zayn was staring hard at me as he explained this. "So what I don't get is when I start to see him get so...soft with you and these...people. He's not like how he used to be."

"And is that a bad thing?" I interjected gently.

"It's not what he taught me." Zayn replied.

"His philosophies changed." I said matter-of-factly.

"But he threw away everything." Zayn stressed sharply. "He threw away our gang. We could've started over here in Cheshire, but he didn't do that-he said the gang was over. We could've been bigger than we ever were, but Harry turned that down."

My gaze softened on Zayn; I could physically see his confusion, see his inner dilemma.

Zayn was messed up only because he was taught to be like this. He was brought up, stronger, thinking you had to think and act a certain way. It was kind of like a child born and raised as a Catholic, only to suddenly be thrusted into an entirely different religion. It would take time for him to accept this different perspective; it would take time and deep consideration and understanding. It wasn't just something that would happen overnight. But to me, this was amazing news. To me, this meant that Zayn wasn't too far gone.

Maybe he still had a chance, like Harry did.

The door to the basement suddenly threw open, and Harry's booming voice shouted, "CLAIRE!"

Zayn and I locked eyes just as Harry flew down the steps; his emerald eyes were frantic and wild when they met mine, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him holding a pistol. His eyes calmed a bit when they saw me, but his face grew intensely furious when they saw Zayn in the room with me.

"Get the hell away from her," Harry roared, aiming the gun at Zayn. My entire body tensed up from the forward move, and Zayn looked shocked, freezing up as well. "I said to get the hell away from her."

"Harry-what's going on?" I asked shakily, feeling nervous from how frantic Harry looked.

"Step behind me, Claire," Harry instructed sharply, his gaze remaining on Zayn.

"What the fuck is going on?" Zayn asked as Louis and Niall and Liam all joined behind Harry, their gazes all on Zayn sitting on the bench. I could see that Zayn really was genuinely confused-I could see it written plainly all over his features.

"Don't act fucking stupid," Harry snarled with a scoff as I made my way behind them.

"What're you-"

And then Harry said the one thing that gave me chills down my spine, shivers down my arms, and his question made my face pale almost instantly.

"Don't you remember what happens to traitors?"