Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 61

Liam's POV: Morning of Niall's funeral; Wednesday

Blake's suitcases are packed and set by the front door in a pile as the taxi man waits outside. Everyone's at the funeral and had said there goodbye's before they left, but I didn't have the heart to go with them. I know I owe it to Niall to go after letting Harry kill him, but I just couldn't from the guilt. That video is ruining me slowly. It's fucking with me in every way and aspect possible. I want to delete it and erase it from existence but I need it to get back at Harry. I need to take him down.

"That's weird man, like it doesn't even matter." Blake says placing his last bits of clothes into his duffle bag. It's sunny as hell and the shine is blinding me even through my shaded windows. It's the wrong day for it to look this beautiful out.

"He's fucking my ex, it does matter."

"Ex, mate. She's not with you anymore."

"He fucked Mia. How did that make you feel?" I dare to compare and receive the exact look I was anticipating.

"She has nothing to do with this, alright?" He stops looking down at me, "shut your goddamn mouth. I didn't come here to talk about that shit so don't fucking piss me off." He's like a switch; when he's off he's calm and chill, but when he's on he's uncontrollable. He still blames himself for what Mia did even though it was Louis' fault, and after all of that shit happened he became a church man. He stopped smoking, became an occasional drinker, and even wears a cross around his neck, just like Harry.

"All I'm saying is that I've been holding this off for too long--"

"That's your fault, man." He zips his bag and drops it to the ground.

"But it needs to be done. Zayn and Louis backed out, you're leaving, Niall's dead, so I'm left to kill on my own." Zayn wasn't really apart of it. Actually, I think he was only in to keep us from hurting her.

"You're going to kill him?" He stops everything he's doing to cringe at me and I nod.

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Don't do that man, that's weird." I've never heard someone describe murder as being "weird."

"How?" I ask annoyed with his disapproval.

"You guys broke up almost a year ago, you're fucking mental. Leave them alone. She's not even that pretty, find another girl. There are plenty of girls here who are willing to be your fuck toy or girlfriend or whatever it is you're looking for."

"Even after everything he has done to you you're seriously defending him?" You know what? Maybe I want to push his buttons. Maybe I want to fuck with his head. It seems to be working anyway.

"I'm not defending him, I'm trying to help you out." He picks the bag off the ground and straps it around his neck, patting his jean pockets for his cigarettes and takes one out. 'Help you out' as in convert me. Fuck that shit, I don't need religion to keep me alive.

"I have it on tape."

"What?"

"He killed Niall and I have it recorded." His cigarette is lazily hanging between his lips and his eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're shitting me?" For being a child of God, he looks pretty damn happy about it. "Let me see!"

Even when I'm not watching the video, I can see it in my head. That's how many times I've seen it. Every sound and word is vivid and I could recite the entire thing; detail by detail.

I unlock my phone and scroll through my library for the video, click play, fast forward to him throwing him down, and hand it to him. He takes the cancer stick out of his mouth and between his fingers, eyes wide, mouth open, and reacts with a genuine gasp. "Oh my God!"