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Harry's POV: Chapter 20

Harry wakes up to a pounding headache, and the feeling of blood running down his face. His vision is blurry, but it slowly starts to sharpen as he comes back to consciousness.

He looks around, but finds he can't move. His arms, thighs, and ankles are tied down to the chair he's sitting on. He jerks against the chair, but it does nothing except send shooting pain through his body.

He looks around at the room. It's all concrete, the walls and floors all made of the same hard material. No windows, the only light coming from a bare light bulb hanging by a door that was set into the wall across the room from Harry.

Harry jerks against the restraints again, and draws blood this time. He bites down his tears, looking around desperately for a way out, but there was nothing in the room except the chair and him.

Just then, the door slammed open, and Harry turned back around as 3 people entered the room. The first two were the men that had brought him here. Now, both of them had guns.

Harry could feel the blood on his face, now dried, from where one of them had hit him. The third man was slightly smaller than the other two. He had short cropped black hair and nearly black eyes. He was wearing a suit. He walked confidently. He reminded Harry of a much scarier Louis.

The man stalked up to Harry, and squatted down in front of him. He touched and prodded at the cuts on Harry's wrists, making Harry wince. The man chuckled.

"You've been trying to get out, have you?" Harry doesn't answer, only leaning back away from the man. "You might as well give up right now. You won't be getting out, and Tomlinson won't find you here."

"Who are you?" Harry croaked out, his voice practically nothing. The man laughed again, standing up.

"My name is Maverick, and I have some unfinished business with your boyfriend." Harry swallows.

Louis said he had enemies. This guy is one of them.

"So what do you want from me?" Harry asks, and Maverick steps closer. His hands land on the arms of the chair Harry is tied to, and he leans closer. Harry pulls away, till he is leaning all the way back against the back of the chair.

"You see," Maverick starts. "Louis Tomlinson took something from me. The position he holds? That was supposed to be mine. I was supposed to be The Devil. Not him. I was his father's underboss. But then that scrawny little nobody came in and took my life's work away from me."

Harry swallows nervously again. He doesn't like where this was going.

"I finally got something to my name, rebuilt my reputation, and your boyfriend came in and tore it down. He killed 15 of my men, and ruined my reputation once again. Now he has to pay. You have a choice."

One of the men behind Maverick stepped up and handed him a knife. Maverick held it up in front of Harry's face, and Harry felt fear rising in his chest.

"15 men, 15 cuts. You can either tell me everything your little boyfriend has told you about his job, or you can take his cuts for him." Maverick says, trailing the knife lightly over Harry's chest.

"Well? What's it going to be, angel?" Maverick asks, digging the knife in slightly into Harry's arm. Harry winces, fear coursing through him, tears spilling over, down his cheeks.

"Please, he never told me anything. I don't know anything." Harry pleaded, flinching away from the knife on his arm.

"Well, that's unfortunate, isn't it?" Maverick growls, pressing the blade harder against Harry's arm, moving it slowly. Harry bites back a scream as Maverick slices the knife through his arm. Blood pours out of it, but Maverick continues on to the next one.

After about 3, Harry passes out from the pain.

Louis please come find me. That's the only thing Harry can think as the darkness takes him again.