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.
Screaming.
All I heard next was screaming.
I wondered if the bullet had hit my chest, if it was my mind screaming at me to stay alive. Was it my adrenaline coursing through me? Or maybe it was my mind firing at a million miles per hour as my life slowly came to an end.
But my eyes were open. If my life was going to end, I wanted the last few seconds to be spent looking at her. Into those bright, captivating eyes that had drawn me into her the very night we met. The eyes that she had tried to disguise under layers of dark makeup, even though I'd always seen the soft, kind girl beneath those layers.
I wanted her to be the very last thing I saw, even if she was the one to fire the gun that stopped my heart beating.
But I blinked. Trying to figure out why I could still blink. I'd heard the bullet fire and echo out into the night around us, I'd heard the scatter of birds fly from the trees. I'd seen the flash of light.
I glanced down at my chest.
There was no bullet wound.
My heart was still beating.
But the screaming continued, a low, guttural, evil sounding scream. Pure agony. And pure fucking rage.
Roman.
Roman was screaming.
He was bleeding.
And he was on the ground.
Winter dropped the gun and stumbled a few steps away from him, tripping over her own foot. Horror flashed across her expression, terrified of what she'd just done.
"What have you done!" Roman screamed, a wet, choking sound escaping him as he yelled.
For a second, I just stood and stared.
Winter had shot Roman.
I couldn't tell where. It hadn't been in a fatal spot to kill him instantly, but he was covered in blood, his hands were clawing at his chest, close to his shoulder, trying to stop the flow of blood.
Winter stood a few feet to the side, staring down at him. Terrified. And in complete shock.
She'd never fought back. She had never even had the courage to tell him no.
And she'd just shot him.
Winter dropped the gun into the foliage at her feet.
And the sound of it clattering against the twigs and the leaves snapped me back into reality.
"Winter." I said, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I took a step back, and then a few steps towards her. My palm extended outwards, for her to take. My mind was spinning but I didn't give myself any time to process what had just happened, I could do that later. For now, we had to get out of here. This was our chance. "Let's go."
