Getaway Car [HS]

Chapter Nineteen

To say her best friend is in a state of shock would be a gross understatement.

There have been few times that she's ever witnessed a reaction as passionate as this from Alanis, among them being the fight she had with Peter the day before his death, and this must be the worst. Not even her love for him could've drawn this amount of concern. Once she sees her laying on the floor in the hallway, all hell breaks loose.

"Harley!" she exclaims, blind to the man who'd drawn his weapon on her seconds go.

Alanis rushes past him and crouches beside her, pulling her up into a sitting position and cupping her bruised face between her hands. The touch is healing to her soul. As it always is whenever they are together, she feels a small shred of her old life come back to comfort her with the sound of her voice and the feeling of her hands on her face. But, the distress in said voice keeps her from relishing it for long.

"Shit, what happened?" she asks frantically. It's quite easy to put two and two together with a quick look at her, though. Tears have already built up in her friend's eyes as her expression turns stony with outrage, adding, "Who did this to you?"

How is she to explain that one?

"Please, don't worry about my face or the creepy guy who just tried to shoot you in the head. The leader of the gang we're trapped in just had his guards beat the shit out of me for something I didn't even do. I'm fine, thanks for asking!"

That'd go over perfectly.

Harley opens and closes her mouth with an utter loss for words. To tell her the truth would be to put her life at risk, but lying to her would be a near-impossible feat. In what world would Alanis believe that she got beaten up at random being a normal chauffeur? With Harry here, she'll know it has something to do with her new job. A job she has been notably stingy relaying information about.

There's a change in the energy surrounding the four of them as Alanis turns to eye Harry up where he stands not far from them. The look she casts his way is unforgiving in its ferocity. It doesn't take her, Harry, or Zayn much thought to understand the conclusion she jumps to before anything is said. The alleged hatred between them, having the gun pulled on her, and the fact that she showed up beaten with him beside her—if he is who she thinks he is, thinking they got into a fight isn't the worst assumption to make.

"Did you do this to her?"

Harry bristles at the question.

The hand around the grip of the pistol clenches harder in a reaction none of them miss, and he takes a step closer to them. Witnessing him holding tighter onto the gun doesn't mean anything. She knows he won't kill anyone unless he has to, but Alanis doesn't. And seeing him step forward with an intimidating stare down at her does nothing to oppose the bad first impression she's gotten.

"I would never," he says.

Before her best friend and ex-lover can dare to start going back and forth in argument, Zayn walks out into the hallway between them to intervene.

"All of you get inside. We can talk about this but not out here. I'm surprised your neighbors haven't come out yet as it is."

This stops them all. It draws their attention away from each other and over to where their friend—Alanis's acquaintance, technically—has positioned himself between them. He then turns to Harry with a pointed stare at the gun clutched in his hand. In a wordless response, he sighs and pulls up the side of his shirt to stash it back in its holster.

He is smart enough not to move to help her up from the floor. In the current state of their fragile relationship, he wouldn't put it past her to knee him in the balls for putting his hands on her, whether it was to help her or not. Her feelings on the topic were made clear already, and it may kill him, but he stands back to watch as Alanis heaves her up from the ground by herself. He ignores the voice in the back of his head telling him to go to her, confused as to why he wants to so badly.