Til Kingdom Come [Harry Styles- Bk 4]

ch.40

The entire room fell to silence. Harry ruffled his hair back. He still had his smooth, dark curls; they just weren't as lustrous or thick as back in the day, but that didn't take away from his overall still youthful, ever-charming look.

"Who is Brock?" Harry repeated. Disgust rang in his hoarse voice.

Darcy stared at her fork. Her hands shook slightly. She wanted to play it off, make it look as though Brock was Des or J.D.'s friend, but Harry knew all of Des' friends. And Brock wasn't one of them.

Harry looked at Des first. Des was calm. Harry moved onto J.D., who shook his head slowly. Harry's jaw clenched. His eyes set on Darcy.

"Darcy," he spoke calmly.

"Friend, dad. Just a friend--"

Des burst into laughter. Harry stared at him. Des cleared his throat and his smirk disappeared. When Harry got angry, no matter who it was at, all the kids grew deathly scared, even if they hadn't done anything wrong. 

"He's your friend?" Harry spoke calmly.

Darcy nodded hurriedly and avoided Harry's eyes. Harry's fingers gripped his fork and spoon so tightly, I was sure the metal had bent a bit.

"Y-yes," she stuttered. Her lips quivered, almost as if regretting sucking Brock's dense face off. 

"Why didn't he stay for dinner, then?" Harry asked randomly.

We all blinked in confusion.

"He had to go home, honey," I spoke up.

Harry's gaze fell to me immediately. His eyes beamed like gamma rays, burning us all up with guilt.

"Oh."

"But I thought you liked him, Darcy," Farah mumbled softly. We all stared at her. 

Darcy quickly shook her head at Farah. Farah didn't understand Darcy's signal.

"He was kissing you a lot, but I don't think he liked your skirt. He kept trying to pull it off--"

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Harry growled. He shot up from his seat and glared at Darcy.

Darcy sunk low in her seat. Farah blinked in innocent surprise.

"WHERE THE HELL IS THIS BROCK BASTARD!?" he demanded furiously.

"I-I don't--" Darcy squeaked.

Harry snapped his fingers at Des.

"GUN, DES, GIVE ME MY GODDAMN REVOLVER!" Harry ordered. Des nearly toppled out of his chair, trying to get Harry his gun, but still trying to avoid being part of a murder.

"No, daddy, wait" Darcy called. 

Harry had already reloaded his gun and grabbed the directory to search Brock's name. 

"WHAT'S HIS LAST NAME?!"

Des swallowed hard, as if having lost his voice. Harry glared at J.D., who was a bit softer than Des.

"M-Mackleburg" J.D. answered obediently.

Farah continued to stare in horror. She had absolutely no idea what she had done. She just knew her daddy was furious and he looked scary when he was furious.

"Harry, wait a minute," I spoke up. If he did anything to Brock, he'd spend a lifetime in jail.

Harry turned to look at me.

"Angela," he sighed. "I don't care. I'm gonna shoot his dick off," he shook his head in determination.

Darcy's eyes widened. Des and J.D. choked on their sodas. Farah slumped low in her seat, staring at the gun in Harry's bulging hand.