Idiosyncrasy (Harry Styles AU)

Nine

Chapter 9

Harry

“Harry.”

The collected voice that I’ve heard so many times before send chills down my spine. The already boiling hot room becomes even hotter, and my palms begin to sweat.

He’s sat in a chair behind a desk. I don’t move. I can’t move. The man that I thought was in jail all this time is not.

He laughs bitterly. “Come here, Harry.” His voice is sickly sweet, making me even less motivated to walk anywhere near him.

My feet are firmly planted to the spot. My breathing becomes quick and a wheezing sound comes from my throat. I’m on the verge of a panic attack, and this gag is choking me.

His eyes harden and his jaw clenches as if he isn’t used to being refused. “Come!” He sounds like he’s talking to a dog, not his son.

I slowly, timidly step forward, questions filling my head.

When I’m standing directly in front of his desk, he smiles. His smile is so vicious that it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Good.” He leans forward and rips the gag from my mouth.

I take a few deep breaths, the air in here fresher than the other rooms. I glare at him.

He chuckles and crosses his arms.

“Why am I here? Hell, why are you here?” I ask. “You’re supposed to be in jail.”

Des (I’m too confused and angry to call him dad) props his feet up on the desk in front of him and clears his throat.

“Ouch. All this time I thought you loved me,” he says, voice monotone.

I don’t even blink.

“I was never in jail,” he continues smoothly, examining his fingernails.

I clench my fists, causing the ropes that tie my hands together to cut deeper into my skin. “How can that be true?” I mumble.

“I’m a gang leader, Harry. And when you didn’t answer my letter and hung up on me, it didn’t make me happy,” he smiles, ignoring my question.

My jaw falls open in shock. Gang leader?! How did that happen?

He cackles at my reaction, and I wonder how in the world he can find anything funny right now. “There’s more to the story but I think I better get to why you’re here. That’s the important part, anyhow,” he continues boredly.

I want to hear the story, but he looks like he’s in a hurry.

“Let’s talk, son. How are you?”

I snort, not putting up with his crap. “I’m not your son anymore. What did you really bring me here for?” I demand, clenching my jaw. I’m not in the mood to play around.

Des’ sickly sweet smile fades, being replaced by a frown that sends shivers down my spine. “I want information.”

I’m glad he finally cut to the chase; it gives me less time in this strange place. “What information could I possibly have for you?”

He smirks again. “Your girlfriend Bethany has a friend named Sandy. She has connections with this gang, and I want you to find all the information you can on her. Do anything you can to get on her good side. Then I want you to kill her,” he says it with such carelessness that it makes me wonder how many people he’s killed.

“I’m not killing anyone,” I whisper, hands clenching into fists behind my back.

He stands abruptly, leaving his chair spinning. “You will if you know what’s good for you,” he growls, running his fingers along my neck. As I cringe, he chuckles. “I have the power to take your life, Harry.”