Assassin's Asylum ✔

23

"I need him", Nick Grimshaw said, walking back and forth in a small motel room. "Get me Harry fucking Styles!"

"My men are doing the best they can", Plague said. "Chill, man. Styles is a clever man, but even he makes mistakes. Sooner or later."

Grimshaw frowned.

"It better be sooner."

He wanted revenge. He needed revenge. But he couldn't track down Red Machete. The son of a bitch was too smart. Even Jackson was useless when it came to finding the assassin.

So Grimshaw got a brilliant idea. Get Harry Styles and use him as a bait. Brilliant.

"How can we be sure that Red Machete will come? How can we be sure that Styles is enough to pull him out of his hiding place?"

Grimshaw laughed.

"Are you stupid, Jackson? Styles saved his family. You should know that assassins always pay their debts."

"Yeah, yeah, man."

"So get me Harry Styles." Grimshaw stopped his walking and looked at Plague. "Call your men, I want him captured as soon as possible."

"They're already on it, just waiting for the opportunity to take him."

Grimshaw nodded.

"Good." He looked around. "And we have to change place soon, we've stayed in this shitty place for far too long."

"Agreed."

***

Eight beers later Harry was sitting on the couch, drunk and anxious. He wanted answers. He wanted to know where Grimshaw was, what he was doing and why. He wanted to know where Red Mac-- Louis Tomlinson was, what he was doing and why. Was he still killing people? Harry didn't know. Once an assassin, always an assassin? Answers. Harry needed answers.

Like, for starters, why didn't Red Machete kill him after escaping? He said to Harry it'd be rude but Harry didn't understand. Rude how? Rude because he saved RM's family? Rude because Harry didn't turn him to the cops? Harry feared he might never find out the answers. And he graved them, more than anything.

His phone started ringing. For a moment Harry considered ignoring it but eventually he picked it up from the table and pressed the green button. "Hi, sister."

"Harry." Gemma Styles was silent for a moment. "Are you drunk?"

Harry frowned.

"How did you know?"

"You never call me sister unless you're drunk."

"I don't?"

"Never."

"Wow." Harry nodded to himself. "Weird."

"Tell me about it."

Harry took a sip from his bottle. "It's like as if I don't want to admit that you're my sister unless I'm so drunk that I can't remember how annoying you are."

"O-kaay", Gemma said slowly. "What crawled up in your ass and died?"

"My life."

Silence.

"I'm kidding, Gemma."

"I'm not laughing", said Gemma, her voice more serious than what Harry was used to.

Harry sighed. "Sorry. Long day. I mean, well. Year. A very long year."

"I know, honey", Gemma said. "That's why I called. To ask how are you and will you come to family dinner next Saturday?"

Shit. Harry had forgotten that completely. He hadn't been on their family dinners since...since Zayn died.

"Liam and Niall are welcomed, too", Gemma added.

"What is it about Mum and family dinners? They're not even family dinners since she's always inviting my friends."

"Please, Harry. Mother would love to see you. And the lads." She paused for a moment. "Me too."

"I know, I know, it's just that we have so much troubles with Century Creed and--"

"Stop with the excuses. Are you coming or not?"

Harry sighed slowly and deeply. "I'll try to make it." Then he remembered the lads. "We will try to make it."

Gemma sighed in relief. "Good, great! Keep me updated."

"Okay."

"Bye, Haz."

"Bye, Gems."

The line went dead and Harry finished his beer and got up to get another one, rolling his eyes.