Trace

Chapter 64

EL'S POV

 "Jailmate?" I half hush, half murmur. I didn't mean to say it aloud, but by the looks of the greasy man's reaction, I heard right. 

   "Say...who's this pretty thing?" the man called Jim takes a wobble towards me, but Harry half-sidesteps, half-drags me to the right. I do not refuse. 

    It is obvious this man in front of us is drunk, and I can only pray and squeeze Harry's hand that we get by him as soon as possible. 

   "Get away from us," Harry grits through his teeth.

Jim scoffs and then laughs to himself.

  "We used'ta be buddies, you and I. I remember the look on your face when they first threw ya in that shitty cell aft-"

    "That's enough!" Harry booms.

My heart is thumping loud enough for the entire region of London to hear. What is he even talking about? Jail? Harry has never been to jail. 

   I tell myself over and over again that this man is just too drunk to make sense of himself.

"Well, well. Now who's the fiesty one? One shouldn't be so rude to their debtor..."

    "If you say one more thing," Harry threatens, "I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll do what?" Jim takes an uneasy and dizzied step closer to the two of us. "If this is a fucking threat, Styles, you know I will get you."

        My head is spinning and my heart is hammering against my shaking chest. I have absolutely no idea what the two of them are talking about, but my gut is telling me otherwise. I do know something...Harry was once in jail. And he owes something to Jim.

    "We are leaving, now. Goodbye, Jim."

Harry pulls me close to him as we walk by the man, and I swear my heart stops when Jim grabs Harry by the arm. 

   "Not so fast, Styles," he hisses close to his face, "now you give me what you owe me, we had a deal."

   "You're still holding onto that fucking deal?! It's been three years!"

I pull Harry back a small bit. 

    "So, then. You're not a man true to his word," the drunken man stumbles back a bit admist his own laughter. 

   Jim seems to catch my fearful eye. My spine crawls when he flashes me a smirk. 

"Say...this pretty little thing looks a bit...anxious. Perhaps I can help comfort her."

   In the same second I move my body behind Harry to shield me, he takes a blow to Jim's nose. The man falls straight down on his backside, blood pouring down over his lips and down his chin. 

   "You son of a bitch," growls Jim, hopping unsteadily back onto his feet. 

  I immediately pull away from Harry, no longer feeling safe. 

    Jim strikes Harry in the jaw and doesn't even give him a second to recover as he knees him in the stomach. Harry doesn't double over, but grabs Jim's fist and twists  it behind his back. 

  Vomit chokes out of the alcholised man, leaving him completely weak and defenseless. Harry yells sick profanities as he mercilessly kicks and strikes Jim, and he doesn't quit when Jim's legs give out. The darkness in Harry's eyes and the burning, fueling heat of his enraged body is nothing new to me. He shrieks his promises to the now unconscious Jim that he will kill him.