Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no...
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Harry Styles
Red and blue lights flashed in the darkness, sirens were ringing. Police tape blew in the wind. Neighbours were gathered in their doorways on the edge of the street, whispering and trying to catch a glimpse of the scene, their faces lit up by the strobing colours, while some were waiting to give statements.
Winter had been gone for less than an hour when the call came.
One of the flats under a quiet watch was now a crime scene. We didn't have eyes on it around the clock because we didn't need to. Because I trusted the people inside. But if anything strange happened, we would be alerted immediately. And tonight, someone had called in with a noise complaint, something about shouting, a fight that seemed to be escalating. Within minutes, I was notified.
I had to drag myself off of the couch because my head was filled with nothing but her. My girl, my flower. And the wreckage I'd made. Wishing I could undo the past, rewrite my own decisions. That fucking report. My own words. My own hand. And I had no one to blame but myself. If I could've tore the pages out or prevented them from ever existing I would have. It was my fault.
I called Niall frantically and told him to find her. I told her that I didn't care if she screamed at him or blamed him too, and I didn't care if she refused to go anywhere with him, I just needed him to make sure that she was safe. I would respect her need to have space from me, whether it was for hours, or days. Or forever. I couldn't expect her to forgive me, even if I'd spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to earn her trust back. But the one thing I couldn't have was Winter wandering those streets, upset, alone, in the dark and the rain.
I wished I was the one who left, and she could have stayed at home where it was safe. So I'd asked Naill to find her, not even knowing if Winter would want to acknowledge him or not, but I needed him to make sure she was safe, find her at least. Make sure she has a place to go.
I figured she'd go to Zayn and Pearls, even if she was angry at them too for their part in lying to her.
So when I got the call to say there had been reports of some incident at their flat, I'd pulled my shit together and got there almost immediately.
I knew it would be bad. It was always bad, worse than I could imagine.
I reached the building alongside Niall and Louis, but it was Niall I couldn't stop looking at. The moment I saw his face, something in my chest tightened. He'd looked... wrong. Pale in a way that had nothing to do with the cold wind, eyes were wide but unfocused. In shock.
And then he told me.
He said he'd found Winter outside our flat, she'd not made it any further than the doorstep. Crying. Broken. He said that her hands wouldn't stop shaking, that she didn't even look like herself.
So he drove and he didn't push and instead drove her around the city while she fell apart in the passenger seat, giving her space, giving her silence, whatever she needed.
