Bad Blood {n.h}

Chapter Fifteen

Niall's POV

Before returning to my dorm and idiotic brother, I went to the cafeteria and grabbed a small breakfast. 

As I was making the long walk back to my dorm with my food in my hand, I spotted Amelia walking- more like running- towards me.

"I hate you." She spat as soon as she reached me.

"I'm sorry?" I furrowed my brows, "I don't remember doing anything to you as a person." 

"I know a lot more about you than you think." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I know how you really get those bruises and road burn marks." Her lips formed a straight line.

"Okay? So you know bar fights happen, congratulations." I shrugged, there's no way she knows.

"Yeah, 'bar fights.'" Amelia air quoted bar fights. "Don't lie. I know." 

"I'm sure you do." I shook my head and moved around her, walking away.

"You killed him." She called after me.

That made me stop. I never killed anyway, what the hell is she on about.

I turned around and walked back to her.

"I never killed anyone in my life." I breathed, calming myself down.

"Well then it was your brother." She whispered, tears brimming her eyes.

"What the fuck are you even talking about? Who's 'him'?"

"My brother." She glared up.

"Look, I don't know where you're going with this but I'm sorry your brother was killed." I offered.

"Niall, stop. I know you're a street fighter." Amelia almost whispered and I quickly looked around to make sure no one was listening.

"How?" I curled my fist around a muffin I was holding, squishing it into nothing; it sounded more like a demand than a question. 

"My brother was one too. He was killed by one of you, I know he was." 

"Again I ask, how?" I gulped.

"My brother was found in an alley a couple years ago, badly beaten but not dead yet. The guy who found him called an ambulance who took him to the hospital-god he was already nearly dead. The police called my house, my mom and I had to drive to the hospital as quick as we can. When we got there he was on life support, the police thought he was mugged but I knew he wasn't. My mom had left to go talk to a doctor when my brother spoke for the first time since the accident, which was also the last time he spoke. Want to know what he whispered before the heart monitor went flat?" She took a deep breath and I nodded. 

"He whispered, "Horan did it." I knew it wasn't a mugger because he had been sneaking out and coming back home the way you do, bruises, burn, scratches. I came to the conclusion he was street fighter before he even died. I was just too scared to confront him about it and I wish I did. I promised I would figure out who "Horan" was and when I came to school I learned about the Horan twins and I just out piece together." She finished and I stood there dumbfounded. 

"What was your brothers name?"

"Eric. He died in two-thousand-eleven." 

"Well I never fought an Eric. I'm not saying James did, but it doesn't seem likely that we would beat someone to the brink of death. Why are you telling me this?" I closed my eyes tightly before opening them again.