Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty





Perrie?



What was she doing here?



"Did you do this?" Eleanor spoke before I could; her voice was trembling with raw emotion, and I turned to see her pulling her head from her hands, her normally light, warm brown eyes cold and lifeless, narrowing to a hateful glare at Perrie's face. "You betrayed us! You told him where Gemma lived-you bitch!"



I've never heard Eleanor sound so furious before. It was actually kind of scary, especially when she flung herself forward, hands tied and all, to throw her body roughly up against the cage in a futile attempt to get Perrie. She was chanting you betrayed us over and over in a loud, screeching sound; her body was having a mental break down. I couldn't blame her.



"I didn't betray you! Well, I didn't mean to!" Perrie was sobbing now, pulling away from the page to get some distance between us. "H-He made me do it! As soon as I was free, he kidnapped me. H-He tortured me, El. I had no choice but to tell him where Gemma's house was."



I couldn't feel angry for Perrie.



Because I once did the same thing, except it was to Harry.



Was this how he felt?



"They're going to die!" Eleanor cried loudly, in inhuman wail. "L-Louis' going to die all because of you!" She broke down, her body crumbling, dissolving back into ruthless tears. She fell over in the van, pulling her knees to her chest and weeping uncontrollably.



They're going to die.



No.



"Perrie, you have to do something." I said frantically, willing away the tears. Oh, how I wanted to crawl into the fetal position and join Eleanor on the floor, but I couldn't. I couldn't give up just yet.



"I can't do anything." Perrie said quickly, hysterically, still sobbing. "I-If I do anything, he'll hurt me. You have no idea what I've been through."



And that was when I actually saw her face. I could see the discoloration embedded over her pale cheeks, the darkness around her eyes. Her face was bruised beyond recognition; I've never seen a face bruised that badly before. I felt slightly nauseous from seeing this; I didn't even want to think what the rest of her body looked like.



"And he'll find us," Perrie cried. "If I-I take this van, he'll know. He'll know, Claire. He always knows."



Now Perrie was sobbing loudly, along with Eleanor, and I felt like I desperately needed to cover my ears. I needed to focus, but how was I going to be able to do that with them crying like this? However, my hands were still tied behind my back, and I was unable to pick up my arms. I turned back to the window to peer outside, my eyes gazing over at the open doorway.



Was Harry dead?



Tears were blurring my vision already; no, Harry couldn't die. He couldn't.



If he did...



I already thought he was dead once-I couldn't go through that again.



"Harry!" I shouted loudly, my voice overpowering both Eleanor's and Perrie's. Desperation was heavily laced in my voice; this was my last attempt at being able to do anything. I sat up on my knees, more tears filling my eyes, and shouted again, "HARRY!"



"Stop," Perrie was telling me, "h-he can't hear you. There's no use."



But I ignored her, and I kept screaming. I stared heavily out the window, hoping to see Harry's tall, lanky figure running at us, surviving another close call.



But there was no one, and I could not tell what was happening. And that was torture alone.



My mind unconsciously pictured Harry getting his head cut off with that small, thin knife, to see his deep, emerald eyes roll in the back of his head and widen in lifelessness. His body going limp as he hit the floor, his heart beat no longer evident in his chest.



Harry was full of life. Despite his past, despite the things he has done, he was still a human being.



And I loved him.



I didn't care about what was going to happen to me after this-all I could think about was Harry's green eyes completely lifeless, unblinking, staring at nothing.



No. Please...



My breath hitched when a few white vans skidded suddenly in front of the house, and my eyes widened when I saw a flash of bright, red hair. Ed. Ed Sheeran.



He was part of the organization!



A crazed, desperate smile lit my face, and I was rendered speechless as I saw Ed and a few other people run into the building, wielding guns in their arms. Were they too late? Was Harry and the boys dead, or would they be saved?



I felt like my heart stopped beating, like my entire body went on pause as I waited for some kind of signal for what was going on. Everything went completely mute, the entire world shut off for a moment, waiting hysterically for the answer to be finally told.



And I was so focused on the doorway that I missed the few figures loping to the side of the car, exiting through the side of the house.



Until the door slammed open, and Nathan's voice shouted, "Let's get the fuck out of here-now!"



All sound returned.



I could hear shouts from the house, and my body lurched into the window as the van was thrown forward with a roar, the tires squealing loudly on the road. I saw, just as we began pulling away, Harry's tall figure hurrying from the house. He was carrying a pistol, aimed our way, and his entire face narrowed in horror when he saw the van I was in taking off down the road.



He was too late-just by a few seconds.



But he was alive, he made it, and to me, that was all that mattered.



Like I said, I didn't care what happened to me. It was just a huge relief to know that Harry was still alive-that he was okay.



"They're alive," I told Eleanor quietly, pulling away from the window when we pulled away from the street. Reality was hitting me hard again, and I realized I was still in the van with Nathan and a few of his goons. Perrie was silent in front of us, her back turned our way, facing forward, and Nathan was in the front passenger seat, constantly glancing over his shoulder.



"I think we lost them," Nathan grumbled after a few minutes of reckless driving. I didn't bother looking out the windows, I was lying next to Eleanor, who had also stopped crying when I told her that the boys were alive.



"Good," She murmured with a relieved smile. "Very good."



She was the same as me. She didn't care what happened to her, as long as Louis was okay.



Because that was what love truly was-it was the blindingly carelessness that came with that certain person. You found yourself no longer caring about yourself, your entire world was focused on the other person, worrying and stressing over their well-being. And suddenly, they were your entire world.



It was scary, but it was the truth.



I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to realize the van coming to a quick stop, and soon, I was being shoved out of the back from the back of my hair by one of the goons; this one had darker skin and dark, cold eyes that reminded me of Zayn.



Zayn.



So he wasn't a traitor, after all. Too bad I wouldn't have the chance to apologize to him.



I could see we were in the shopping plaza for some reason; I could see the jewelry store that I liked directly across from us. And I paused in my steps when I saw the old man sitting outside in a chair, his eyes looking over at us, obviously confused. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I was silently telling him that this was a bad situation, that he should call the police, but then the goon behind me shoved me hard, sending me faltering a few steps and colliding with Eleanor from behind.



"Keep moving," He commanded.



We walked into what seemed like a small, convenient store-I couldn't catch the name of it-but the walls in the back were able to move, like secret trap doors or something, leading to a thin, narrow stairway leading downwards. I followed close behind Eleanor, hearing Nathan ranting about something ahead of us. The door behind us closed loudly, making me jump a little, earning a chuckle from the goon behind me.



Bastard.



"Welcome to my humble abode, ladies," Nathan said cheerfully as the hallway cleared to reveal a dimly lit room. There were two doors across from us; the floor was heavy cement, along with the walls. Basically, the room looked like something from a horror movie, even though it was nowhere as scary as the run-down warehouse where I first met up with Harry, against my will.



Are you by any chance afraid of the dark?



"What do you plan on doing with us?" I spoke up, my voice hoarse and throat slightly burning from how much I yelled earlier. Eleanor was staring at the ground in silence, and I could see Perrie was seated on one of the chairs. The goon from behind me was cutting our restraints, and I flexed and unflexed my hand when it was free.



Perrie wouldn't even look at us.



"Would you really like to know?" Nathan asked with a low smirk, approaching me with his hands held behind his back. "Well, honestly, I can imagine Harry was pretty rough with you, yeah?"



"That's none of your business." My voice was shockingly calm and even, despite how terrified I was.



Nathan chuckled a little, "Redheads-so gutsy. I find that hot, you know."



"I don't care." I figured that if I was going to die, I may as well die with somewhat of a confident aura, right? That is, if he was planning on killing us.



"Okay, so here's the plan." Nathan said suddenly, his tone business-like. He walked away from me to pace a little, clasping his hands together. "We're going to get rid of Harry and his men, and once we do that, Cheshire is ours. That organization of his doesn't stand a chance against us if Harry's out of the picture." His light blue eyes glanced back at me, glinting mischievously. "And once we take over Cheshire, well, you know the story."



Yes, I did know the story.



"It's going to get you nowhere." I said quickly. "Once you take over Cheshire, what then? What do you plan on doing?"



Eleanor glanced my way, silently telling me to shut up, but I didn't look at her.



"You mean to tell me," I continued, "that you came all this way just because Harry refused to let you join his gang? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"



"He broke my nose." Nathan snapped, his face no longer amused. "Have you ever had your nose broken? Huh? Have you?"



I shook my head. I couldn't imagine it feeling very good, though.



Nathan smirked sickly at my response, taking another step towards me. "Hm, maybe I should let you see how much it hurt. What about that? I could easily break your nose, just like your boyfriend did to me." He was suddenly in front of me, his toxic scent everywhere, clogging my every sense, drowning me, and his fingers were gripping tightly onto my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "What do you say about that?"



"Don't break my nose." I muttered quietly.



"That's what I thought." He chuckled in my face and broke away from me, making his way to Eleanor. I watched him from the corner of my eye, seeing his eyes look over Eleanor like she was a piece of meat. "Well, One Direction sure knows how to pick their toys, hm? I definitely plan on making good use of you girls, don't you think Perrie?" He turned over his shoulder to shoot Perrie a pointed glance, and she stiffened under his glance.



"Yes," she whispered quietly, submissively.



"And what have you done with her?" I asked accusingly.



"I did what I'm going to do with you." Nathan snapped sternly, his eyes back on me. "How does that make you feel, knowing that you have absolutely no control in this situation?" His voice lowered to a murmur, husky now, and he was back in front of me to peer down into my eyes. "To feel utterly vulnerable?"



I've felt like this before-it was nothing new to me.



But still, I didn't reply. I simply stared at his eyes, wondering how such an innocent-looking guy like him could be so mental.



"Perrie," Nathan called suddenly, like he was addressing a pet dog, "come here and show Claire a proper welcoming." He snapped his fingers impatiently, pulling away to replace her seat as Perrie made her way reluctantly over to me.



Confused, I watched her, seeing her mouth I'm sorry before my entire vision swayed for a moment from her fist colliding with my right cheek. Surprisingly, I didn't fall down, despite how hard she hit me, but I was clutching onto my cheek, and I had no time to get a grip before she punched me again, on my other cheek.



"Beautiful! Well done, Perrie!" Nathan commended her from behind, clapping at the blonde's effort. Her eyes were dark and face narrowed when she pulled away from me, her body tense and motionless, waiting for another order from him. God, I couldn't imagine what Nathan did to her to make her this flexible; Perrie was the strongest girl I've ever met, and now she was nothing but an empty toy. It was making me sick just looking at her.



"Now," Nathan said, quieter, intrigued, "kiss her."



What?



I tried to peer over Perrie's shoulder to shoot him a bewildered look, but Perrie had grabbed tightly onto my chin to roughly pull me towards her, and before I knew it, our lips were touching and she was kissing me without an ounce of emotion or passion. It was literally just lips pushed tightly together-and I was utterly stunned, wide-eyed, staring at Perrie from this close proximity. I've never kissed a girl before, and oh god...was this seriously happening?



"Put some emotion in it!" Nathan commanded from behind. "Go on, Perrie-touch her! Touch her ass, go on."



I squeaked into Perrie's mouth when her hands roughly groped onto my arse; my arms were held tensely by my side. I didn't even know how to respond to this, or what I could even do. Like I said, was this seriously happening?



"Claire, run your hands through Perrie's hair." Nathan said, and when I didn't do anything, he snarled, "Fucking do it or I'll come over there myself."



My hands flinched from his threat, and they hesitantly ran through Perrie's slightly tangled hair. My hands were shaking, and my entire body was now starting to tremble from being so close to Perrie. We were both breathing heavily, and I knew my heart was racing so loudly in my chest and that she was probably able to feel the pounding from it.



But when I looked back in her eyes, I snapped.



I pulled sharply away from her, unable to stop myself from forcefully pushing her away and exclaiming, "You are so fucked up! What the hell is wrong with you?" I stared in horror at Nathan, my heart plummeting when I saw his entire face darken completely from my noncompliance.



"Perrie," Nathan said slowly, "you know what to do."



And once again, I had no time to prepare before my hair was being pulled, blinding me for a moment, and I let out a loud yelp when Perrie pulled me so harshly back that I crumbled to my knees, my hands rising to claw helplessly at hers to free my hair. She peered down at me with a mask, though I could tell her eyes were now remorseful, and she started slapping my face over and over. I was flinching, trying to get away from her harsh slaps, but I couldn't escape them.



And when she finished, she shoved me roughly forward and I fell face-first to the ground, panting loudly. I was still dazed from the onslaught I just endured, and my hands clawed at the cold ground, trying to get some kind of grip on what was happening.



"Now Perrie, darling, give Eleanor a proper greeting as well." Nathan said nicely before I saw him stand up from his seat. He added under his breath, "I'll take care of our feisty redhead."



Okay, this guy was beyond fucked up. I could immediately tell he was beyond any sign of redemption when his boots were in front of me, and I gasped loudly again when he grabbed my hair, forcing me back on my unsteady feet.



"When I tell you to do something," He murmured huskily, "then I suggest you do it. Got it?" His arm wrapped firmly around my waist, and I wanted nothing more than to punch him, but my face felt like it was on fire from being slapped like that.



"And if you do exactly what I say," He continued, "then you'll be perfectly fine. Don't cry," It was then I realized tears were slipping down my cheeks. Nathan's eyes softened mockingly and he cooed at me, raising his hands to wipe across my cheeks in a helpless attempt to soothe me.



"I'll take such good care of you."