Secrets (h.s)

31

"No, we can't go in half assed, Louis! We need a game plan, just like everything else, just like we've always done," Zayn yells.

Currently we're all gathered around together in Harry's living room, papers about my father and his friends, who I named, on the glass coffee table.

I haven't spoken much since this started, the topic of my Dad bringing back bad memories. I'm trying to hold myself together.

Harry, who sits next to me with Zayn on the other side of me, leans in.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Just trying to not have a breakdown."

He sighs and smiles grimly.

"You shouldn't be sad anymore. Sadness is done now, hear me? It's time to get angry, be so fucking pissed you can't see straight because that's what I feel and I'm not even the one who he fucked up. You did it with your brother, now you dad. Okay?"

I sigh and look at our laps. His little speech doesn't really have an effect on how I feel but I act like it does.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

He nods and studies me a little longer before murmuring, "Liar."

"Hey! Hey, Kylie knows them all best. Maybe she can help. Huh, Kylie?" Harry says while looking at me with a knowing face.

I glare at him and an extremely unholy string of words form in my head for him. I will be getting him back later.

"I might be able to," I finally say, leaning forward and intentionally moving closer to Zayn. I glance at Harry in the corner of my eye and see him rolling his emerald ones. Zayn looks at me weird but doesn't say anything or object.

"Okay, where do they normally hang out?" Niall asks.

"My house," I state simply.

"Any specific times of days? Like poker days, for example," Liam inquires.

I think hard and try to remember.

"What sport season is it?" I randomly ask and I can tell people are confused.

"Wha-" Harry starts.

"Just answer me," I cut him off.

"It's early August, so football. Why?"

"Then they'll all be over when footballs on."

"And today's Sunday, so tonight," Louis says.

I smirk and nod.

I lean back into my seat and pull my phone out of my back pocket, checking the time.

"It's 4:30, they should all be heading over there now. They'll probably all be there at 5," I say.

Harry stands and starts directing orders immediately after I slip the sentence from my lips. He gives everyone a job and once they're all gone he plops down next to me.

"Anything I need to do?" I ask.

"Just be brave," he smiles.

I roll my eyes, "I don't know if James would be alright with this little side job."

"He would, some guy hurts one of his own and he wants us to do something."

I nod and get lost in my own world of thought when Harry stands and begins doing his own thing to prepare. I wonder what it is we're actually doing to them. Surely not killing them...right?

Would I be fine with my father dead? His horrid friends? Maybe my brother? Sure what they did to me is wrong and I will have to live with the consequences for the rest of my life, but is it worth their lives? My brother is only 20.

My morals, the little flimsy ones I have, are pushing at my mind so hard my head starts to hurt. Would their deaths be my revenge taken too far? I always take things too far, I don't want this to be another rerun of that bad trait.

Has my life really come to debating whether or not I should let my "boyfriend" kill my dad, my brother, and his friends?

I walk up to Harry arranging guns on the kitchen table and shudder at how many he has.

I tap his shoulder and he turns to me with a concerned expression.

"What's wrong? Please don't say you're backing out?"

"Not technically."

"What is it?" He faces me fully.

"Well..." I struggle to find a way to say it.

"Kylie, spit it out."

"Are you going to kill them?" I blurt.

He stares at me for a long while. Flicking his eyes all over my face, reading me.

"Not if you don't want me to," he finally settles.

"I don't think I do."

"Why?"

I'm quiet. I don't know why. I should want to kill them for all they've done to me. I certainly wouldn't cry if they died. I want them dead, of course, but not at my own hands. At least, not now.

"I don't know. I guess I just don't want that on my conscience."

He nods lightly.

"Okay...well what do you want to do then?"

"Beat the shit of them, within an inch of their lives. But let them live to endure the aftermath, to know I did it. So they know I could kill them if I wanted to. That I have that power." 

"Sounds good," he says and leans down to kiss my forehead. I close my eyes and sigh. Those kinds of touches make my heart melt.

After we all get situated and packed and ready, we pile into the Lincoln again. While driving, we blast "May the Better Man Win" by J. Cole. I listen and look out of the window, lightly humming along.

Harry's driving and I'm in the passengers. His large, ring clad hand rests on my upper thigh and I feel content, despite knowing what I'm going to do right now.

Sighing, I turn from the window and my thoughts, rest my palm on Harry's hand. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, trying to look at me and the road at the same time.

I pat his hand in a reassuring manner and raise it to my mouth to kiss it before placing it back where it was.

I play with his hands the rest of the way, tracing over his little tattoos on his fingers and twisting his rings.

Once we pull up into my driveway, I immediately recognize all the cars and angry yelling, so loud I can hear it out here.

I stare at the front door and hope I'm making the right decision with sparing their lives.

///////////

Short short update. I've been working on this a paragraph like every day because I'm so busy, especially with my new book.
Check that out by the way, it's called Teach Me.
Anyway, hope you enjoy.
-m