Assassin's Asylum ✔

42

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unedited chapter! I was in a hurry and couldn't read it through so there might be missing words and grammar mistakes a lot but hey, I updated! Sorry that it took so long. Thank you for your patience! I'm back now. xoxo

***

Grimshaw got them a taxi and soon they were driving in silence towards another hotel where Grimshaw checked them in with false names. Grimshaw had one hand in Harry's shoulder all the time and he guided Harry to their room. Harry didn't dare to do anything because he knew that Grimshaw had a gun and Harry wasn't willing to take any risks. Not yet, at least. He had to be smarter than Grimshaw. He just had to.

Once they were in the room Grimshaw pushed Harry in a chair and roped his hands and legs to the chair so he couldn't move. Harry narrowed his eyes at Grimshaw and tried to wiggle his arms free but couldn't. However, he did notice that the chair wasn't the best kind. He might be able to break it. But not now.

Patience, Harry told himself.

"We have to wait here until I get a new passport, I can't be Gary Pinehill anymore since you and that other motherfucker figured it out and if you did then the police would have too, sooner or later", Grimshaw said and wiggled his gun in the air. "Just a reminder; I have a gun, you don't. Behave yourself."

Harry didn't answer to him. Grimshaw walked in front of him and leaned closer.

"By the way, how did you find me? What kind of connections do you have?" he asked but Harry just glared at him and then spat on his face. Grimshaw wiped his face and smacked Harry in the head with the gun.

Harry felt the pain way before he felt the blood running down on the side of his face. He didn't go unconscious which was good, he thought but damn, fuck it hurt.

"You know, I'm kind of jealous of you", Grimshaw said, walking around as he texted someone, but clearly was talking to Harry.

"Why?" Harry asked, finally talking.

Grimshaw stopped his texting for a brief second so he could raise and eyebrow at Harry before returning back to his phone. "Isn't that obvious? Tomlinson is the feared, pro assassin who is not only hard to find but also hard to beat and control. He is the ultimate killing machine and then you come along and you spend a few days with him and suddenly he is wrapped around your little finger. How did you do that? What is your secret?"

"We fucked 6-ish years ago", Harry said without thinking because seriously, what the hell did it matter anyway? Whether or not Grimshaw knew about Tomlinson and Harry's history the situation would still be the same. It didn't chance it.

Grimshaw stopped texting and put his phone back into his pocket. For a moment he looked very shocked but eventually he looked like himself again, the devilish little fucker who Harry hated.

"Well, alright then", he said and crossed his arms. "Tell me, Harry. How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" Harry hissed through his teeth.

"Fucking a serial killer."

Harry huffed. "Fuck you."

"Here you are, pretending to be such a good person and accusing me of being a bad person", Grimshaw said. "But I'm not the one who fucked a serial killer and work together with him."

"I don't work with him!"

Grimshaw walked closer to Harry and leaned very close to his face.

"You're not as pure as you think, Mr. Styles", Grimshaw whispered and then he turned around and walked into the bathroom.

"Fucker", Harry muttered and then he started wiggling his feet, hard. When he got his legs free, thanks to shitty knotting job done by Grimshaw, he stood up, his arms still roped to the chair and then dropped on the floor, breaking the shitty chair. He got his arms free and he stumbled on his feet, feeling the pain in his head and also in his body because of the breaking chair.

He was almost at the door when he heard Grimshaw's gun's safety go off and he stopped in his tracks, muttering a quiet "fuck". He turned slowly around and stared at the gun that was, again, pointed at his head.

"Well, well, what a Houdini you are!" Grimshaw laughed and then walked closer, pressing the gun against Harry's forehead, and his face went serious as he hissed, "Go to the bed, lie on your back and don't fucking move or I'll blow your fucking brain out."

Harry did as he was told and then Grimshaw tied his hands and legs so that he was a human star in the bed and definitely not able to move anymore or free himself.

"I have to go make a phone call. You", he pointed at Harry, "Stay."

Harry wanted to bark like a dog but decided to keep his mouth shut. Grimshaw disappeared in the hallway, closing the door after him and Harry was left alone.

His thoughts went automatically to Tomlinson. Would he come? Would he come and save Harry? Maybe. Harry had to believe in that because Tomlinson was his only hope.

The situation was ridiculous. Harry had to constantly trust Tomlinson who was definitely not trust worthy. But he had no choice. In the end, nothing would matter, Harry's life was doomed anyway. He would go to jail but he would damn sure take Grimshaw with him. He wanted the whole world to see how Grimshaw goes to jail for the rest of his life and dies there in misery.

But what about Tomlinson?

Harry had no idea what would happen to Tomlinson. Maybe Harry would have to kill him too in order to take Grimshaw to the police. Maybe Tomlinson gives up, disappears and lets Harry take Grimshaw. Or he just simply kills both Harry and Grimshaw.

"Fucking fuck", Harry muttered, hating the fact that he wasn't able to do anything.

Suddenly the window to the balcony fell apart as a machete flew through it. Harry's heart missed a beat and he tried to struggle himself free but couldn't. Then he saw Tomlinson climbing in.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"Wow."

"Don't say a word!" Harry warned.

Tomlinson tilted his head. "Are you there for me?"

"No", Harry said. "Help me out, idiot."

Tomlinson shook his head and Harry frowned.

"What? Why not?"

"Because", Tomlinson said, walking closer to Harry, sliding his fingers up Harry's leg as he walked, "if I let you out you'll try to stop me from killing that son of a bitch."

"You fucker", Harry hissed and struggled to break free from the bed but it didn't help.

Tomlinson took the scarf off of his face and smiled at Harry. "I will help you out after I have killed Grimshaw."

Harry didn't answer anymore. He was so mad. Why would Tomlinson go through the trouble to follow them if he was just going to-

"FUCK!" Harry yelled when he suddenly realised something. "Louis! Louis, this is a trap!"

"What?" Louis asked, suddenly looking confused for the first time in... well, forever.

"It was too easy for you to find us! It took you no time! This is a trap!"

But as soon as Harry said it the door busted open and at least ten police men ran inside, surrounding them and half of them pointing guns at Tomlinson and half at Harry.

The two exchanged looks and Harry sighed.

"Fuck..."