Protector ~ H.S

~Chapter Thirty-Four~

A/N: Quick warning - 5000+ word chapter w/ lots of POV switches :p 

I followed the sound of the loud, raucous cheering that got louder & louder with every step I took. Before long I stepped out of a hallway and into a huge clearing with a ring in the middle of the room that reminded me of the rings I saw in boxing matches. And, crowded around that ring were a massive horde of people – chanting names and whooping and fist-pumping the air.

What the fuck is going on here..?

I stepped into the room and quickly merged myself with the crowd – making sure I wasn't too far but at the same time not too close to the ring.

What the hell does Harry do here?

Does he watch whatever goes on in that ring?

Or does he...actually perform in the ring..?

I felt my heart beginning to race at the possibility that this was what Harry did every time he cancelled his plans with me. This was an underground fight club or something – I could easily see that. But working in these clubs was illegal. I can say that with confidence, because I know everything about illegal fighting thanks to my dad.

Is this...Harry's job? His real job?

Could there possibly be no weak old man at all..?

But...it can't be...

No.

No.

There was no way Harry would make that whole thing up. Not to me. No way.

Harry wouldn't do that to me.

...Would he?

"Ladies and Gentlemen," an MC had climbed into the ring and was speaking grandly into a microphone, "Are you ready to watch these people fuck each other up!?"

The already-wild cheering suddenly intensified even more – making me jump as everybody screamed and shouted and whooped at the top of their voices.

"Then may I present to you, our fighters for the night!" The MC said with a grin, "First up, we have our Dirty Pirate. The most badass one-eyed prick in town. We have our Captain of the ship – DAMON STEVENS!"

My eyes widened slightly as I watched a huge, burly bald man with a grey beard, a dirty blue T-shirt and faded ripped jeans hopped into the ring – flexing his giant arms and laughing heartily. As the MC had hinted, he wore a black eyepatch over his right eye – and below the eyepatch was a nasty scar all the way down his right cheek.

Jesus.

Something obviously put him through hell.

"Now, ladies & gentlemen, next up we have our fan favourite. Our youngest man. Our lady-killer. Come on, put your hands together for the one, the only – HARRY STYLES!"

The cheers immediately became ear-piercingly wild, and loud gasp was forced out of me before I could even try to hold it in. My jaw dropped, and my eyes grew to the size of saucepans.

Oh my God...

Harry...

No...it can't be true...

It can't be true..!

~HARRY~

I climbed into the ring with a sigh – my ears practically immune to the raucous cheers of the crowd below me. I looked up and faced Damon indifferently – seeing that he was smirking at me and already hovering his fists in the air.