Back For You (Zayn Malik FanFic)

Chapter Seventeen

*Daniella’s POV*

I can hear him stumbling down the hallway and I immediately stiffen.  Although I should be used to him making me have sex with him, it still bothers me and scares me a bit. I notice at once that he is drunk. The smell of liquor is heavy and lingers on everything he touches, including me. I take a step back as he slurs something at me. When he tries to grab me, I push him back off of me.

He grunts and frowns as I evade his touch time and time again. “Daniella, dammit, let me fuck you!” he yells. I realize he has left the door wide open and I escape to the hallway. I haven’t quite figured my way around the house yet. I only know how to get to the dining area. The restroom is attached to the bedroom where he has kept me so I only leave for meals. I hear him hit a wall behind me; I’m not sure if it is his fist or his whole body that creates the collision.

“Leave me alone!” I shout at him and he looks as stunned as I feel. I’ve finally stood up to this man instead of being quiet. He’s never been drunk around me before so I’m not quite sure what to do. My mind immediately trails to whether or not he may have forgotten to lock the front door, wherever that may be. I hope he has made some kind of mistake in his drunken state, although it doesn’t seem likely. Ever since he kidnapped me, I haven’t seen him make a single misstep. Everything has always been planned and I absolutely hate it.

Even in his drunken state, he is quite fast, perhaps a track star in his secondary school days. I run up the stairs as he follows suit, taking two at a time. I feel like choking when I find that the stairs lead only to an old attic with zero escape routes. He corners me in seconds and now I am more scared than ever. Not only is he drunk, but I’ve also just really made him angry and broken plenty of the rules. His hand wraps around both of my wrists and I cry out in pain as he drags me behind him back to the stairs. His steps are too large and I find myself struggling to stay on my feet as I am pulled behind him, like a dog on a leash.

I almost wish he would say something, anything. I want to know what he is thinking. I want to be able to guess at his next step but he is silent as I trip down the stairs. I inhale sharply as he knocks me into the banister and then releases my wrists. I slump down to the ground, finding air difficult to breath.

“No matter how much I do for you, how well I treat you, this is how I get repaid!” he finally yells. I barely realize I’ve laughed at him before his hand strikes my face.

“Is this what you would call good treatment: being held against my will, raped, hit? Because news flash, you bastard, women in the 21st century don’t find this treatment attractive in a man,” I ramble on, my sarcasm on a high and my anger boiling over. “What happened to make you so fucked up: bad childhood, broken heart?”

His hand is quick as lightning as he strikes my face again. My adrenaline is pumping and I hardly feel it.

“Why don’t you kill me already? I know that’s what I’m really here for. I know you are going to kill me, but when? I really wish you’d do it now and get it over with. Neither of us are getting much out of my being alive. I mean, seriously, you aren’t that good of a shag.”

I don’t know what he is doing when he reaches his hand out. All I know is I’ve pushed his limits this time and I’m going to die.

*Zayn’s POV*

I wake, utterly drenched in sweat. Suddenly an image comes to mind. That guy in the grocery store, the guy I beat the shit out of, he might hurt Daniella. I just have this feeling about him. The way he had thought it was quite funny to ask how Daniella was when I ran into him. What the hell was his name? Nathan? No, Nick, Nick Monroe: that was it!

I dialled the detective’s number. For once in my life, I was grateful to have gone shopping. I was going to save her. My immediate plans were delayed when he didn’t answer. I mentally throw curse words at him and my anger flares. I finally have a lead and suddenly he isn’t up my ass asking questions. I dial his office number and pray that someone, anyone, answers.

“Detective Miller’s office; how can I be of assistance?” his secretary asks, in an annoyingly perky voice.

“I need to speak with Detective Miller. It’s an emergency.”

“The detective is in a meeting right now. Can I ask who is speaking?”

“It’s Zayn Malik. I’m calling about my girlfriend, Daniella Melanovich, with the kidnapping case. It’s really important that I speak with Miller now!” I say in a rush. I step out into my hallway and rush down the stairs. Harry looks at me, completely stunned as I slam my fist into the wall. I’m not even sure what I am doing as I grab my keys. I slide into my car and barely notice that Harry is in the vehicle with me. I press the end button on my phone.

“Where are we going?” Harry questions and I don’t answer as I pull out. “Are you going to answer me or just kidnap me?” I shoot him a death glare. His eyes widen, “Sorry, not a good time for that joke.”

“Either way, you got in the car with me,” I mutter, “But if you’d really like to know, we are going to find that asshole detective.”