Pink *Niall Horan Fan Fiction*

Chapter 12

Niall

"She should be back by now!  Where the hell is she?"  I ask as I pace up and down the sidewalk in front of the limo. 

"Maybe she had to go to the bathroom, Niall.  Don't worry so much."  Dani reassures from inside the limo. 

"No, you don't understand.  There was a man twice her age that hit on her in there earlier.  She was scared for her life, and that's why she was crying at the table earlier, Sarah."  I explain, still pacing. 

"Go in there and ask if she's gotten her phone yet."  Perrie exclaims from where she's lounging across Zayn's lap. 

"Why didn't I think of that?"  I ask, slapping my forehead and darting back into the crowd of people. 

"Was there a girl in a mint green dress that came and picked up a phone?"  I ask the guy that stands and watches the VIP section. 

"She came through here about 10 minutes ago and then she left."  He tells me, which only makes me worry more.

"Which way did she go?" I ask.  He points back towards the door and I start sweating more than I already was. 

"Shit.  Shit, shit, shit."  I mutter, running back towards the door.  I pass a hallway and I could have swore I saw a flash of mint green before the door closes, and I race back to the others to tell them. 

"Guys, I think she went out the back door." I pant, placing my hands on my knees to catch my breath. 

"Let's go, man!"  Liam calls, grabbing my wrist and towing me along with him and around the building where a black van is disappearing over the hill. 

"We've got to catch that van!"  I cry, starting to race after it until I realize that it's no hope. 

"Did you get the license plate number?"  Liam asks as we hurry back to the limo. 

"No!  Did you?"  I ask before he shakes his head. 

"Did you find her?"  Perrie asks when we get back to the limo. 

"No, but a black van was speeding away."  I tell them, collapsing on the side of the limo. 

"Does she have her phone?"  Lucy asks.  I nod. 

"Then you should be able to track it.  It's an iPhone, right?"  I nod again. 

"All iPhones come with little tracker devices embedded into the phone that you can contact the service provider to find the whereabouts of that particular phone."  She explains. 

"There's just one problem with that plan.  We're in America, and it's 3 in the morning.  Plus, we can't let her dad figure out about this."  I put on my thinking face as Paul walks up to the limo with an ice cream cone.

"Everyone ready to go?"  He asks, licking the ice cream.  Everyone glances at each other and Paul stops in his tracks. 

"Where's Heather?"  He carefully asks. 

"Um, therewasacreepyguywhokepthittingonherandthenwethinkhedruggedheranddroveaway."  I spill extremely fast, hoping he didn't get it. 

"Who was the creepy guy?"  Paul asks, tossing his ice cream cone into a near by trash can and whipping his phone out. 

"I don't know, but you CANNOT call Simon, Paul." 

"What'd he look like?" 

"He was probably 6 foot, dark hair, dark eyes, square jaw, probably 40, and he was wearing all black."  I rattle off the description from the only time I saw him laying on the floor.