Harry Styles was known to be ruthless, merciless, and tough in the ring. He basically lived at the gym, always there, training and working hard to defeat his next opponent.
After being too old to stay at the orphanage, Harry was sent packing to live...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I can lose fucking everything, but not you. Oh, God, not you."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warning: contains explicit language and violence
Harry's POV Hours before
"Where is she? Where the fuck is she?" I almost rip my hair out as I walk around the room full of men on computers, searching and looking for any trace of a clue where my baby is. My beautiful baby, my girl, hasn't been in my arms for over a full day now and my anxious mind was running wild with worry. Is she still alive? Are they torturing her because she is my weakness? Has she eaten? Have they touched her? Is she crying and calling out for me?
The mere thought makes my throat close up as I still, closing my eyes tightly and swallowing thickly as I try to calm the nauseous churning in my stomach. I can't lose her. I can't. Not again.
My heart pounds in my ears along with a constant ringing that left me disoriented as I try to collect my sanity that was currently shattered all over the floor, much like my heart. Feeling my eyes well up with emotion and my lashes dampen against my cheekbones as my eyes stay squeezed shut, I will the tears away, not wanting to show anymore weakness in front of my men. If they see me losing hope, then their's will soon disappear as well.
"Mr. Styles?" I almost don't hear the distant sound of the man across the room calling me as I gather myself. "Mr. Styles?" My eyebrows furrow and I open my eyes, blinking the wetness away several times, before they focus on a man in the back corner, patiently looking at me with a sympathetic yet hopeful look.
"Y-Yes?" I cough, clearing my throat of the thick emotion that was making my voice sound weak. "Yes? What's wrong? Did you find something?" I'm across the room in a second, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his desk as I lean over him, peering at the screen.
"I have a cellphone ping off a west tower near a rural town called Aurora belonging to the leader of the Black Widows, Vincenzo Nicoli." I try not to let out a shout of excitement as I read the screen, confirming his statement. "It's about a five hour drive but I think we found her. I think we found Miss. DeLuca."
