Before (Harry Styles)

Chapter 1

Zayn's POV

"Malik, hurry your ass up!" Jim called. I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair again. I might be wearing a mask, but I don't want hat hair when I take it off. I sigh to myself as I pull my ski mask on.

Why am I getting into this again?

I already know how it's going to end, so why?

"Malik!" Chris's voice shouts.

Anger pumps through me. I hate being told what to do!!

I grab my gun and stalk out of the room jumping into the passenger seat of a black van.

"Let's go," I shout out. Jim climbs into the driver's seat.

"Someone's a little grumpy," he commented. "Did wittle baby Zayn wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" Jim mocked.

"More like his comb broke," Chris laughed jumping into the back.

"I have a loaded gun; I suggest you do NOT piss me off!" I say with my jaw clenched.

Both Chris and Jim laughed but didn't say anything else. I guess threatening their life was more than enough to stop them.

"You sure we should trust the wittle baby with the gun?" Chris asks.

I growl at him and he shuts up.

Almost anyways.

*****

"Hands in the air or I shoot!" I shout as I enter the bank. I point the gun towards a female bank teller. Her green eyes grow wide in fear as she slowly puts her hands above her head.

"Everyone else on the floor, hands where I can see them," Chris growls. He is not kidding when he says that. The pedestrians fall to their stomachs and place their hands on the floor in front of them. I look to Jim and he nods. I turn to the female bank teller and point my gun at her chest.

"Take me to the money, now," I tell her.

She nods and takes a couple of keys from under the counter and starts walking to the back room. I follow her, knowing that Chris and Jim have everything under control.

"Hurry up!" I growl at the girl. She jumps at my words and fumbles with the keys. I point my gun to her back and lean in to whisper in her ear.

"I will kill you if you screw this up," I tell her.

I hear her breath hitch in her throat and almost laugh at how scared she is; like I would ever shoot a woman.

But it works; she finds the right key and pulls the door open. I follow her inside and to the back of the vault to the main vault with my prize in it.

I notice that her hands are shaking violently, she's so small. She looks to be only maybe in her teens, but she could just very well be small for her age. If you look at her the right way she is very pretty, with golden blonde hair falling down her back in waves.

I shake my head; get a hold of yourself, Zayn. She won't live that long anyways. She's only here to serve my needs. I poke my gun into her back to get her moving faster. She stumbles in her high heels but goes a little bit quicker.

She walks up to a big vault door and starts entering the password in. When the door opens I throw a bag at her.

"Fill it to the top," I growl. She jumps at my voice but does as I say. I pull out another bag and start to fill that up as well. I finish before the girl does and help her.

"I-is that a-all?" she stutters. Her voice is tiny and small, and scared.

"For now," I answer. I point the gun at her again, "Where's the back door to this place?"

"R-right h-here," she whispers. I sling both bags over my shoulder and follow her to the main room.

"Took you long enough," Chris grumbles.

"Do you have the money?" Jim asks greedily.

I glare at both of them, "Where are the keys? I'm driving." I state.

Chris reaches into his pocket and throws the keys at me.

"Here, now let's go, I think I hear sirens," Chris says.

Sure enough, sirens were sounding in the distance.

"Change of plans," I said, "You two aren't coming." I point my gun at Jim and pull the trigger, hitting him in the leg and then do the same to Chris.

"I don't need you two anymore." I point my gun at the bank teller.

"You're coming with me," I tell her. Her green eyes are wide with fear, she nods silently and I take her forearm and drag her out of the bank and to the black car. I push her roughly into the back of the vehicle and climb into the driver's side. I start the car and hit the gas, speeding off just before the police show up. I smirk to myself and drive out of London.

Finally, something in my goddamn life is going right.

*****

Alice's POV

I was scared of this man. The one, who pointed a gun at me, threatened to kill me and now kidnapped me.

I watched him while he drove out of London. Where was this man taking me?

"What's your name?" he asks.

I didn't answer. My heart was pounding in my chest like it was about to burst out of my chest. Who knows what this man could do to me? Why didn't he just kill me at the bank? The van slows down and he pulls into a gas station.

He pulls of his mask and stares at me.

His eyes are a dark hazel, almost black. His chin is chiseled and unshaven for what looks like days. His dark hair falls into his face which he brushes out of the way quickly.

"I expect you to do as I say," He says roughly. I shiver at his words and cower back.

A small smile pulls at his lips, revealing bright white teeth. He turns to the front seat and kills the engine, then comes into the back with me. I feel my heart beat faster with the fear of what he's going to do to me. I've never been more scared in my life! His dark hazel orbs watch me; he seems almost amused at my fear of him. His eyes narrow and he slams me into the side of the van. I wince in pain and close my eyes.

"Open your eyes," he growls. I do as he says and his face is only inches from my own. Both of his arms are on either side of me. He's wearing a black sweater that hugs his body and dark wash blue jeans.

His lips pull up into a smirk again, "Checking me out, are you?" he questions.

I shake my head slowly and try to sink back into the wall, hoping I could disappear.

"It's alright," he mumbles, he leans in and I feel his breath on my neck. I freeze when he presses his lips to the corner of my jaw. The man pulls away and smiles, and then he turns around and grabs duct tape and a hood.

"I don't need you telling people where we're going," he smirks. The man walks towards me, my knees go weak and I shake a little bit before falling to the floor of the van. His smirk grows bigger.

"What do you know, she's rendered speechless in my presents," he mumbles to himself; then crouches down next to me on the floor and pulls off a piece of duct tape, placing it over my mouth.

He starts unrolling more duct tape and placing it over my wrists, pinning them together. He does the same to my feet and then stands up to stare at me.

"Good enough," he says. His eyes go up and over my body, I squirm a little bit, uncomfortable being in this position.

He laughs, and places his hands on my shoulders. I cower back at his touch, but he just tightens his grip and leans me up against the side of the van.

"Is that better?" he asks.

I turn my gaze to the ground, not answering, mostly because there's tape on my mouth.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says. All of a sudden my vision is darkened because there's a hood over my head. There are a few minutes of silence before I hear the van start up and we're moving again.

Why can't I just die now?