Hostage (a One Direction story)

Chapter Twenty Four

Niall's P.O.V.

"Alright, Zayn. Think." I pace in front of Zayn, who's eyes follow me calmly as he lights a cigarette. "Going through some sort of girl-emotional-crisis thingie, in an unfamiliar place, cold and wet probably, American..."

"Starbucks? McDonalds? Err...maybe a store?" he suggests.

"Okay, great. That's a start."

I grab Zayn's arm and we start to walk towards the par only to be cut off my a silver car that stops directly in front of us. I barely have time to share a suspicious look with Zayn before Jae clambers out of the car, her eyes lit up with a glowing happiness as she sees us. The car door has hardly closed when the truck peels away in a cloud of exhaust. 

I stumble backwards as Jae tackles me with a flying hug, burying her face in my shoulder as I bewilderedly wrap my arms around her. "Niall," she murmurs into my skin, the movement of her lips sending shivers through me. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

Zayn watches, a mixture of confusion and amusement in his eyes. "So, uh, Jae...mind telling us where you were?"

Jae's face crumples, like a child who just got informed that Santa wasn't real. "Oh...yeah. I suppose I must. Can we...can we go inside first?" 

My heart aches with worry as Zayn and I follow Jae up into the hotel. Her feet are dragging and her head is hanging - she looks completely and utterly exhausted. Another pang shoots through my chest and clench my hand into a fist. Now is not the time to be sentimental, Niall, I think to myself. Something serious could be up. 

And, as Jae sits me, the rest of the boys and Eleanor (who had still been 'visiting' with Lou) down in the sitting room, my suspicion is confirmed. Something very serious is up.

Jae's P.O.V.

I manage to choke out the whole story to El and the boys, who sit in complete and stunned silence for several minutes after I finish.

Harry is the first one to break the ice. He stands and walks forward to kneel in front of me, cupping my face in his big, warm hands. Nervously, I watch him wondering if he hates me, or if he's going to, for some stupid reason, kiss me. But he only stares me in the eyes and says, "Jae. This is all my fault. I am so sorry." And he draws me into a tight hug. 

Um. What. I swallow hard to choke down an inner fangirl attack and put my arms around him awkwardly. "Haz, its really not. It's Nate's fault."

Harry shakes his head, which is still buried in my shoulder. "If I hadn't...you know... you wouldn't have run off and been found by Nate. You would've been fine."

I push him an arms lengths away so I can look him dead in the eye. "Harry. What good does blaming yourself do?"

He looks back at me defiantly for a moment before his shoulders slump and he deflates. "None."

I nod and smile gently. "There. No harm done, see?" I spread my arms as if to indicate that I'm intact. 

He smiles back, albeit hesitantly, and goes to sit on the couch as Liam goes and gets the phone to call 999. Louis grabs the remote and turns on the TV, flicking through the chanels randomly. Finally, he stops on a news station.

A blonde reporter with a grim expression is speaking animatedly. "...body of 26-year-old Marc Tead found, stabbed to death, in an alley." I gasp and grab Niall, who is sitting next to me. The screen displays an easily recognizable picture of Marc. "Tead apparently was left to die, and, in his last few moments, managed to leave a gruesome message." continues the news reporter.

A picture depicting an corroded cement wall comes on, the grey stone stained with splatters of blood that form two words, filling my veins with ice.

Run, Jae.

***