Lolita

Chapter 17

Harry's POV

As soon as I reached Ashton, I slammed my fist across his face. Lola gasped loudly, covering her hand with her mouth as I continued to punch him. He had fallen to the ground, trying to grip the counter as he went down but failing. His nose was already breathing, and I gave him a sinister smile before punching his jaw again.

"I know what you're fucking up to!" I yelled at him, hearing him groan as I punched him in the stomach.

"What the fuck?!!" Lola shouted over our huffs and puffs of air.

"Oh really? You know I'm taking your girl then, huh?" Ashton teased, making me want to kill him even more.

I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes at him. "If you lay one hand on her, ever, I will fucking kill you!" I punched him again. The crowd around us had gone silent, until suddenly I was kicked in the stomach. I stumbled back into Lolita, who caught me with open arms and tear filled eyes.

"Stop it! Please Harry!" She begged, holding me tightly.

"I'm gonna kill you!" I bellowed, pointing at Ashton. "You fucking bastard! You'll never have her!"
"Just wait Harry...just wait."

I growled, about to break free from Lolita's grip to stomp on his ugly ass face when a worker bounded over and told us if we didn't leave he'd call the police.

With that, I gave the finger to Ashton and grabbed onto Lolita.

There was a crowd forming around us. My head was pounding, my face bloody and my vision a bit blurry. All I knew was we had to get the fuck out of there before Ashton and his crew actually captured her. I wonder how close he was to slipping roofies into her fucking drinks.

As soon as I get through the mass of people and burst through the doors, Lolita scrambles from my grip, kicking and thrashing to get away from me.

"Are you crazy!?" Her hazel eyes are blazing, long hair in messy waves surrounding her face. I ran a hand through my locks, sighing deeply, not sure what to use as an excuse this time. "Are you fucking crazy Harry? What the hell was that all about!?"

"He was...I didn't like the way he was talking with you, Lola."

"So you fucking beat him up!?" Every time I took a step towards her she took one back.

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. My eyes nervously glanced back to the doors of the bar, desperately hoping Ashton wouldn't appear and steal Lola from me. When I turned my attention back towards her, she was already storming off.

"Lola!" I called, rushing after her.

"Get the fuck away from me, you psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath." I argued, jogging next to her.

"I can't talk to you right now."

"Lol-"

"I said I can't talk to you right now, okay? Now leave me alone."

"Where are you going?" I pleaded, needing to know.

No response. 

"Babe...uh...we kind of need to leave New Orleans. Like...now."

Lola stopped walking and spun around on her heels to face me. "What is the big rush, Harry? Are you on some secret FBI mission or some shit?"

Oh fuck. Was she catching on? How? Well maybe I shouldn't have beaten up Ashton right in front of her. Good job, Styles. I mean, I obviously didn't do a good job covering up that one.

"It's just business." I said, and she narrowed her eyes at me. "Please baby, please...just...can we go back to the hotel and just get packed up?"

Her eyes glared into mine before she turned back around to storm off, thankfully towards the hotel. She's extremely irritable when she's angry, yet at the same time extremely hot. And her ass looked so good in that sundress, seriously. I almost felt bad for staring at it for so long when I knew she was really mad at me.

Once we reached the hotel, Lolita immediately plopped herself on the giant bed and turned on the T.V. I sigh as she turned on Friends and sat back to watch.

"We need to get going."

She didn't respond. Instead, I quickly packed up our items that were scattered on the floor, double checking the bathroom and under the bed for random shit. Once I was certain we had everything, including our phone charges, I began hauling our bags down to my car. When I came back up, Lolita was still on the bed, her eyes strained on the T.V. like nothing had happened.

"We need to go." I repeated.

"I'm watching Friends." She muttered, her eyes not leaving the T.V. If there's anything I hate more than being ignored, it's being talked to without eye contact. I reached forward to grab the remote from Lolita's hand but she suddenly tightened her grip. I narrowed my eyes and tried to pull it again but she grunted and pulled it back.

"Are we really doing this right now?" I grumbled.

"Yes we are."

"Lola, I swear..."

"What? You'll hit me too?"

My eyes suddenly snapped towards her and I frowned. "You really think that low of me?"

She blinked and looked back towards the T.V. before staring down at her lap.

It was silent for a couple moments before she mumbled,

"I feel like I don't even know you at all, Harry."

For a split moment, I sort of felt like ripping off my head and throwing it out the window, hoping that it'd hit someone else in their own head. I know that I'm lying to her. I know that I'm putting her in a really dangerous situation without her knowing, and potentially risking her life when she has no idea. I know that when she finally founds out, she'll hate me forever and ever. And to be honest, that's what kills me the fucking most. But it's not like I can have a whole discussion with her about it and send her home where there's probably some of Ashton's men waiting to take her. I swear they'd do anything to ruin me.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for hitting that fucking asshole. I'm sorry that everything's at such a fast pace. I'm sorry things aren't going like you wish they were. Things are just hard for me right now."

"What things, Harry? Business? Work, you mean? You never tell me anything. I feel like you're so stressed all the time but I don't know why."

"It's really complicated."
"You can tell me, though. I love you. You know that."

"And I love you, Lola. It's just...you wouldn't understand."

"How do you know I wouldn't?"

"Because I just do."

She stood from the bed so that she was right in front of me. She cocked an eyebrow before shaking her head.

"You know what? I'd rather not know anyway, okay? Let's just go."

"It's not that I don't want to...tell you...it's just-"

She really hated me then, even if she'd just told me she loved me, because she was already out the door on the way down to the car. And I was standing there alone, the last of my words on the tip of my tongue, having no one to tell them to except for myself. But I already knew everything there was to say about the truth. So instead I begged myself not to scream, and walked out after her.

I swear it's like every time I think we take a step forwards, we take two steps backwards.