redemption: harry styles

Chapter Sixty Nine

// three days before the incident //

I woke up early only because I felt like I was going to throw up; which I did, rushing to the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth then sat in the metal chair outside on the balcony for some fresh air. I wasn't hungry.

"They call themselves the Faulty Rescuers, 'cleansing the world of criminals'," Zayn said with a roll of his eyes.

"By killing them?" I asked. "They're ridding killers...by killing them?"

"That's why we call them hypocrites," he said. "See, they're like a huge gang, scattered all over the world. And somehow, the ones in this state knew we were here."

"And one of the members stabbed Harry," I said.

"Yeah."

"Oh." I pursed my lips and thought for a moment. "Isn't a person in a gang who kills people supposed to own a gun?"

Zayn raised his eyebrow.

"Just wondering," I continued slowly, "if this gang was targeted by police...why would the attacker carry a gun. I mean, a knife?-"

"No offense, Evelyn, but I didn't think you'd catch onto that," he answered with a hint of a smile.

I held my breath. "So..." I furrowed my brows. "Whoever stabbed Harry...isn't from here."

Zayn tilted his head.

"If they were from here, they'll own a gun. But if they're from, I don't know, where I was or something and they followed us here, they wouldn't be able to bring guns and crap here."

"Yeah." Zayn nodded.

"But neither could they sneak a blade."

"Nah, they can. We've done it once." He nodded to himself. "But even if he didn't bring it from wherever he was from, he could have bought it here. Could've also been a damn kitchen knife for all we knew."

"So the attacker...could be someone we know?" I asked disbelievingly.

He nodded gravely. "But the chance is as big as any other." After a moment of thinking, he stepped out of the car.

"This is our little safe place," he said and gestured to a warehouse-looking building.

I grabbed my phone and tried to call Harry's number. He didn't answer, I thought it might have been because he was asleep, as it was still nine o'clock and Harry doesn't wake up that early.

"Do you own this building?" I asked, closing the car door behind me.

"No." Zayn opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a pair of chain-cutters. "It just looks safe."

Zayn cut off a thick chain with a red tool. It dropped to the ground with a clatter louder than I thought it would sound and he kicked it aside. He led me inside. The walls were stone and dirty, and inside had a stale smell that burned my throat when I breathed. The floor was literally coated with an inch of dust, and there was an eerie silence--like the place being so quiet wasn't how it usually is; basically, it seemed like a place someone would commit a homicide in.

Zayn pressed to notice my discomfort and attempted to make a joke. "And this is where Harry skins little girls like you."

It was a terrible joke at a time like this but that's what made me laugh; his lack of comfort.

"Wait, was that a joke?" I deadpanned.

"Nah, it's where he tests out his guns." Pause. "On other people, you know, see how much kick the weapon's got-"