Plan D✔

Chapter twenty-four

 ~Tyler~
 
"You bitch! Get the hell out of here!" A scream echoes through the entire house. 

I guess Taylor told Emma about her anorexia...

Taylor comes into the kitchen a few seconds later, raking her hands harsh roughly. "God dammit." She huffs. "So, she hates me." 

"Munchkin, she doesn't hate you. She's just upset you didn't tell her sooner, she'll get over it soon enough." Zayn tells her. She shifts her eyes to him, shooting a sharp glare for a few moments, before sighing again and nodding. "Did you hear back yet? You know, from uh... the doctors." He asks suddenly, worry practically dripping from his words. 

Another sigh escapes her lips. She goes to speak but is cut off by a sharp noise cutting through the air, something flying right past her. Jumping, Taylor turns, and we all see about fifteen people, all dressed in black. Zayn, Taylor, and I all grab our hand guns that our families want us to have on us 24/7. They begin shooting at us again, and immediately blood is splattering, fists are flying, shots ringing through the air. By the time the gunfire ends, Taylor is already on top of one of the still barely conscious ones, holding a gun to his temple, and holding him down by his neck with her arm. 

"Who do you work for? Who sent you?" She demands. A smirk spreads across his face, as he opens his mouth, everyone gagging at the sight of where his tounge should be. Yet, it is missing. Taylor returns the smirk momentarily, but it drops just as quick as it came. She motions for one of us to hold him down, so I got over and place my foot against his already bruised throat. 

Taylor rips his shirt down the middle, cringing at the sight of a familiar symbol tattooed onto his hairy chest. The Russian Mafia's symbol. Tilting her head up, obviously upset, Taylor closed her eyes and sighs. Yet again. I glance at Zayn, before returning it to a now standing Taylor, who looks like she's just seen a ghost. Following her and Z's gazes, I find Emma, Brooke, Alisha, and Danny all staring at the bloodbath below them, as they are looking from the second floor balcony. Danny doesn't know, and based on the other's expressions, neither do they. 

Emma's hand is slapped over her mouth, Ali and Brooke are just staring wide eyed, and Danny... Is passed out on the floor. 

Ouch.

"You guys weren't supposed to see that." Taylor whispers, but with the deathly silence they definitely did hear it. 

Emma scoffs. "Yeah. No shit sherlock." Ever since she came here shes been kind of bitchy. 

Taylor sighs deeply, motioning for everyone to follow her, including Z and I. I wait for the girls to get down to the ground level before following close behind the group. Taylor knocks this time, waiting for the doors to open before pushing roughly past our father. "What the hell Taylor!" He exclaims, staggering back in shock. I'm telling you, no one disrespects a man like him. 

"Where the fuck were you guys?? Did it just magically change so that no one in this entire fucking house didn't hear gunshots? We almost got killed out there! And my friends saw!" She explodes, as the rest of us file in. When I finally get in I see that my parents, Brad, Maria, Owen, Riley, Rose, and a few other members are standing around the room, my parents behind my dad's desk. 

To say they were shocked was an understatement. Everyone stood there, mouths agape as they look between us five. 

Wait a minute- five?

"Where is Danny?" I ask looking around. I walk out and up the stairs, finding Danny still passed out. "Danny." I say, shaking his shoulder. "Danny. Danny-boy." I continue saying his name in different voices until he shoots up, looking through a gap in the poles on the railing on the overlook. His eyes widen, seeing a cleaning crew my dad owns come in the front door and immediately picking up a body. 

"Ijahblao-" He gasps, incomprehensible words, before falling back. I huff, sighing and pick him up, throwing his slightly heavy body over my shoulder. He's not fat by any means, he just does a lot of sports. He is in Football, Lacrosse, Swimming, and Baseball, so he has a lot of muscle. When I finally lug him all the way back to my dad's office, I find a barely concious man, tied up to a chair. The girls are just staring with eyes the size of saucers as their friend interrogates. Zayn is standing next to our dad, the two wearing matching smirks. I prop Danny against the wall and move by the girls. 

"Now, are you going to tell me why they sent you yet?" Taylor asks, bending one of his fingers back threateningly. It looks like he ready has three broken fingers. 

"Never you bitch!" He screams, spitting in her face. She doesn't hesitate to snap his finger. He screams again, this time is pain. "Argh! F-fine. The Russians want their son back. Please, please let me go. I have a family counting on me!" Taylor raises an eyebrow.

What a pathetic excuse. Sure, for some, it's not an excuse. But for him, the way he looks down and to the left, not meeting anyone's eyes is a clear indication he is lying.

Tay sighs. "Take him downstairs. I'll send someone down for you later." She directs some of my dad's bodyguards inside the room. They nod, bending down and carrying him effortlessly out of the room. 

"Who is their son?" I ask. 

Surprisingly, it isn't someone in the mafia who answers. 

"Ashton."

It's Brooke.