Blowing Smoke (Harry Styles)

Chapter 4

I screamed when the men advanced towards me.

Fight or flight?

My instinct was flight, sadly. So I ran for my life, into the parking garage.

"We aren't trying to hurt you, little lady." one of them announced, his voice so raspy like he had been smoking for forty years of his life.

All three men were big and maybe about thirty years old, expect one looked about mid-forties. All three men had clean cut shaves and full heads of hair. They were tall and big men, sporting off clothes similar to "Harry" and his friends, expect these guys had a blue crest on the arms of their jackets.

"You're Monreau Swanson, aren't you?" the same guy asked, with the raspy voice.

"N-n-no." I quickly lied.

"Yes you are." he argued. "Your name is Monreau Swanson but your full name is Penelope Monreau Swanson, but you weren't too fond of having the initials PMS, so you started to call yourself Monreau, knowing that it suited you better. You live in Kensington, Campden Hill to be precise. You live with your father, James Swanson, or Jimmy as his friends call him, your brothers Jake and Anthony, but sadly your mother moved overseas to serve-"

"Stop!" I screeched. How could they know all of that about me?

"And we know that you are dating Harry Styles." he added.

What?

"No." I nearly laughed at the thought of me dating that rude scruffy douchebag. "I'm not d-dating him. I'm n-not d-dating anyone."

"She's bluffing." one whispered to the other.

"Am-am not." I defended for some reason.

"Get 'er." the raspy voiced one mumbled to the other to.

I quickly ran away from the approaching men, hiding behind the Range Rover. I looked at the two men who were approaching me, both with knives in their hands. One of the men had a knife with blood dripping from it, from stabbing Harvey. The blood dripping from the knife reminded me of the blood dripping from my finger that dreadful day on the beach.

I needed a weapon.

Maybe I could use a wrench, but there wasn't one close by.

An idea popped into my head before I could think any further. I popped open the trunk of the Range Rover, pulled opened the box, this time with mental ease unlike the previous time, and pulled out the rainbow umbrella.

"And what are you going to do with that, little lady?" one of the approaching men asked, his yellow teeth revealed when his pale and thin lips twisted into a slithery-like smile.

I held the handle of the umbrella firmly in my hands, clutching it tight.

Fight or flight?

Fight.

When the man got close enough, I swung the umbrella as hard as I could, hitting him in the side of the head. The odd and unexpected fight made him stumble over and made his knife fly across the floor, dragging a thin line of Harvey's blood where it dragged.

"What the-" the other man didn't even finish his sentence because I hit him over the head with the umbrella, knocking him over as well. I stood overtop of the man who was lying on the ground, blood coming from his ear.

I lifted the umbrella so the tip was over his chest and repeatedly hit the metal tip of the umbrella against his chest, it impaling only slightly. The man's face paled and his skin began to get clammy from the pain.