All of Me (Harry Styles) - Book 2

Chapter 84: Instinct

-Ava's POV-

Three feet away, I screamed. Didn't matter.. there was no one to hear it.

Two feet away, I managed to take control of my feet. Didn't matter, he was already to close.

A black ski mask covered his face, gloves his hands. That's all I saw before I turned to run. All I saw before my hair was grabbed, yanking me back and onto the floor.

I called for him. Don't know why. Instinct maybe.. He was my protection. But that protection was almost 3,000 miles away. That protection wouldn't be here for another 24 hours. But still I screamed his name, screamed for help as I was drug by my hair down the hallway.

The pain was excruciating. I could feel hair getting ripped out as I gripped onto his wrist, trying and failing to remove some pressure from my scalp. I was hauled up off the floor easily, my arm being grabbed roughly. He was strong, his breathing was heavy, loud even. Don't know how I heard it over my own cries for help, but I did.

The first punch hit the side of my left cheek, making my vision go white. The second hit my ribs, a sharp crack sounding out around us. More pain, another scream for help.

I was pushed back, large callused hands wrapping around my neck as the back of my head hit the wall behind me. A stinging pain washed over my scull. My screams then came out strangled, my hands clawing at his, attempting to pull them away from my neck as I struggled for breath.

My knee, it came in contact with his crotch suddenly and it was his turn to cry out. The sound was familiar, but I didn't take the time to think about it. I ran. As he fell onto the floor, I ran. Didn't matter.

I'd barely made it into the kitchen, my hand reaching for the phone on the counter as I was shoved forward. I fell onto the floor heavily, the phone and receiver falling onto it with me. I scrambled for it, it being grasped in my hand right before a large heavy boot came down on it. Another crack, another scream of pain. It was broken, the bones shattered. The phone was kicked across the room the second it left my palm. I scrambled for it. Didn't matter.

My foot was grabbed, my chin knocking against the tile below me, causing me to bite my tongue. I tasted blood as I was flipped over. I didn't even recognize my own screams, my pleas for him to stop. Tears streamed down my face as I kicked at him. He smiled.

The silk of my dress ripped as he hauled me off the floor, throwing me into the kitchen counter. My back hit the cold granite forcefully, my body once again sinking down onto the floor. My face was hit again, then again as he leaned over me. I spit out blood, gasping for breath. Pain. So much pain.

I tried to fight him off... I punched, I kicked.

I tried to scream for help...

Suddenly he stopped, standing up.

I tried to crawl away... Clutching my broken hand to my chest, bawling, ignoring the agony my body was in.

Didn't matter.

It was all in vain.

When I heard it I knew. Glass shattered, the sound filling the kitchen. It was the vase holding the flowers Harry had sent me today. Something that held a symbol of love suddenly became a weapon.

My ankle was grabbed, I was once again drug backwards. I was once again flipped face up.

I saw it coming. His eyes were dark. He laughed. The light from the small lamp in the corner catching the glass, making it sparkle as it was gripped in his right hand.

It was ear piercing.. The scream that left my lips when the glass punctured the skin right below my ribs.

My hand barely had time to cover my wound when I felt another sharp pain as the sharp glass entered my stomach.

I screamed again, endlessly. My voice hoarse, unrecognizable. Strained.

Didn't matter.

There was blood, alot of it. The cuts weren't deep but my hands couldn't press against my skin hard enough. I felt dizzy. Weak.

The glass was dropped next to me on the floor, making me flinch. Small shards hit my arm, cutting the skin.

The ski mask was pulled from his face and stuffed into his back pocket. I squinted, tears blurring my vision.

He kneeled down next to me, looking me over with a smile, "Never seen you look so beautiful Kelsey."

He reached down for my neck but stopped, his head shooting up.

He moved quickly. Across the kitchen and out the back door. It was left open and I was left on the floor.

I didn't recognize the voice that called out, the figure that fell onto its knees next to me as they screamed for help.

I faintly remember them yelling into a phone. Their voice was desperate, breathless, cracking. They talked to me when they ended the call, telling me help was on it's way.

The shirt was pulled off their shoulders, my hands removed from my body and replaced with the thick material. I cried out as it was pressed firmly onto me, my hand grasping their arm as they leaned over me. I tried to speak, but only a cough left my lips. A cough and more blood. I choked on it, I couldn't breathe. My body was sat up, my back was slapped as tears ran down my face. More blood was spit from my mouth, clearing my wind pipe. I gasped, my lungs begging for air.

So much pain.

I looked down at myself, the sight shocking my system even more so. The shirt was already soaked, as was the hand holding it to my stomach. Red. Deep red.

My eyes squeezed shut. I couldn't look.

I cried out for him again. His name over and over. Instinct.

Didn't matter.

My world went dark within seconds.

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