Restricted (Harry Styles)

Chapter 16

Harry immediately let me down, but before I could even stand properly, he pushed me behind him, causing me to stumble over my own feet. He was in a defensive stance towards Robert, who was casually watching TV.

With a gun in his hand.

I swallowed, what was he going to do with it? Maybe he was going to threaten Harry with it. Maybe he came here to bring me back to England.

Just maybe, my life could be normal again.

"Robert!" I squeaked in excitement, yet fear. Harry was capable of anything. He could possibly hurt Robert. "How did you find us, thank God you're here!"

Right when I was about to launch off at Robert, Harry instantly stopped me. He pushed me back with a little more force than he intended and hissed, "Go upstairs, Ariana."

"No," I huffed, glaring at the man who ruined my entire life. "Robert, please tell me you brought help."

"I didn't, muffin. I can deal with him myself. Now go wait upstairs like Harry told you, yeah?" Robert cooed, pointing upstairs with his gun. When he saw the expression on my face, he smiled. "Harry's gun."

"That is not my gun you fucking fag-"

"Shut up, Styles, we got some things to discuss, just you and I." Robert interrupted. "Upstairs, Ari, now."

"Okay, okay." I muttered, bringing myself upstairs. As I went up, I heard their hushed voices get louder. There was a lot of cursing and profanities. I could tell they were trying to keep their voices down.

I decided to break the rules for once and listen into their conversation.

"I know what your intentions are with her, Robert, so you might as well fuck off."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Say anything and I will shoot you on the spot."

"Go ahead. As long as I'm here to protect Ariana..."

"From underground, yes. I doubt the devil would let you, Haz. You're fucked up."

I heard an ear-splitting bang. Did Robert shoot Harry?

As much as I hated Harry - I didn't want him to die. Before I could properly process it, my legs were pushing me toward the stairs. I nearly tripped over my own two feet as I stumbled downstairs.

I gasped, taking the scene in front of me. A crimson liquid stained the side of Harry's shirt, although he didn't seem to be fazed by it at all. How could he not? It seemed painful.