I was surprised that Harry had left so easily. I wasn't sure if he trusted me entirely, but I suppose I wasn't much of a threat. I was a tiny, fragile girl compared to people like him or even Elijah. I didn't like comparing the two though--they were so alike, yet so different.
Elijah was dangerous, but he wasn't an active threat unless he had to be. He didn't roam around randomly taking out other gangs. Instead, he supplied them with drugs and weaponry to keep them going. But if he didn't get his money, or they didn't follow through on a deal, things got ugly. But on the other hand, he was my brother, and he had never shown a threatening demeanor toward me.
Harry was also dangerous, but how dangerous, I wasn't sure. I knew he could kill me if he wanted to. And despite the fact that I should be fearful of the fact that I 1) had a good idea of what he was capable of but 2) wasn't entirely sure at the same time, I just wasn't scared. He had saved my life twice now, and that was once more than I had saved his. On top of that, he had made me feel safe. That wasn't a feeling I was used to.
I walked around the perimeter of his room, looking at the beige walls. There were no windows and no posters, but a few scattered photographs. One was of him with an older woman and someone who looked to be in her early twenties. They all had similar features, and I guessed that they were all related somehow. Maybe it was his mother and his sister, or an aunt and cousin. Either way, the smile on his face was obviously genuine.
Another showed him at a young age, maybe four or five, with golden hair cropped short, and bright eyes. A happy smile was on his face just like in the previous picture, and I could see the slight indents of dimples that would grow deeper and more prominent with age.
The sudden sound of loud voices made me freeze in place and my head snapped up in the direction of Harry's closed bedroom door. I listened intently, my feet carrying me slowly towards the door when I heard a very familiar voice.
The voice gave me chills. It was gruff, gravelly almost, and something I hadn't heard in a very long time.
I felt like a deer caught in headlights when the door came banging open and Harry stood there, his eyes dark and wild. He looked livid.
"How could you not tell me?" he growled, his eyes narrowed at me. "How could you not say anything?"
He began to stalk towards me until he was close enough that I could feel his hot breath in my face. It was then that true fear struck through me from the towering, curly-haired male.
"Don't you dare be mad at her. She didn't know anything about this." It was the same familiar voice from before and now I was one hundred percent positive of who it was. Harry's muscles froze, and over his shoulder I spotted him. His dark hair was cropped short but still quite messy around his lightly tanned face. He had a mask of calm on, but I could see the anger clearly in his eyes.
"D-dad," I whispered.
My eyes connected with my father's and I felt as if I was going to collapse. My knees began to shake and my breath came out in short puffs.
"Hello Alice," he replied coldly. It all happened too quickly. Harry retreated from me to lean against the doorway, giving me a full view of my father.
"Dad--"
"How did you manage to get yourself into this?" my father cut me off, his voice so icy that it sent a horrible chill through me. "I thought that Shane would be enough to keep you away from the likes of Styles"--he jerked his head in Harry's direction--"but apparently you just can't stay away from complete assholes."
My vision began to blur from the impending tears. This was my father, the man that had raised me as a little girl and taught me about life. He was cold and heartless, not at all the man he had been when I was young.
