shadow [h.s.]

t h i r d

There was silence, Harry said nothing. He just watched me with those big, green eyes, and if I’m honest, it freaked me out. Usually the murderers that passed through these doors were rigid, ragged and even foaming at the mouth. They would shout insults at me, screaming they hadn’t killed anyone when the obvious answer was that they had.

Harry, however, sat there.

He said nothing; nothing as I sat my coffee down and perched myself on the side of my desk, crossing my legs correctly. Nothing. Just watching me, and not in an evil way, but almost in a studying way. I had expected Harry to be more different; after all, he had killed three women and a grown man twice his age.

But he just sat there.

I watched him. “Do you have anything to confess?” I asked. This was the usual question at the start of each questioning session. Some villains had grown so guilty about their crime that they would just confess, right away. But Harry did no such thing. He said nothing, I actually wondered if he was even breathing because the room was so silent.

“Do you want any coffee?” I asked. Perhaps Harry wanted to be equals, instead of just a detective and a criminal.

Nothing.

Annoyed, I huffed in exasperation and grabbed the file for Case 1145. I looked over the top of the manila folder to meet his eyes, green and glowing. “Listen, Styles,” I said sharply. “You’ve killed... My father, Kenneth Jacobs, on July 23rd, 1994.” My eyes flicked up to meet his. Nothing, no regret. No memories. Just studying me in that unraveling way. Moving on and trying not to squirm, I added, “You’ve also killed Marilyn Gaunt on August 27th, 1999. By stabbing,” I looked into his face again. No regret, no thoughts. “Jennifer Hellespont on October 1st, 2004. And last, but not certainly not least, Kelly Marshall. On November 5th, 2009.”

Something in the back of my detective alerted me as to that there was a pattern here, but I had no time to think of that. I was too concerned as to why the hell Harry wasn’t responding to my questions. “You want to be proved innocent, right?” I asked him.

No response.

I was ready to give up, honestly. The only thing that kept me going was the silent promise in the back of my head that Harry was different. And I had to know why, I had to know why he wasn’t responding. Why he wasn’t getting angry, why he wasn’t screaming in my face or pleading for forgiveness.

Why.

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s start over.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “My name is Skyler Jacobs, but you can call me Sky.” I almost choked on the friendliness in my voice. I unlocked his chains smoothly (and if that didn’t surprise him, I didn’t know what would), and then extended a hand for him to shake.

He didn’t say or move for a few moments. His eyes flickered between me, the hand, the table and then the chains. He bit his lip and moved to shake my hand. He had large hands, but they were soft. They weren’t murderous. “I’m Harry Edward Styles, but you can call me Harry.” His voice was rough and beautiful, raspy and thick. I found myself imagining him to be a murderer, and I could not. Everything in his behaviour shouted well mannered gentleman, not murderous villain. I tried to remember who I was dealing with, but I couldn’t.

“Harry,” I explained, crouching beside his chair like a mother would to a child. He looked down into my eyes. “Listen, if you don’t answer my questions, you can’t be proved innocent. You know what that means, don’t you?”

He nodded. Finally. I breathed a prayer of relief to Anyone who was listening. “You need to answer these questions.”

He shook his head. “I can’t, Ms. Jacobs,” he explained. I raised my head and raised an eyebrow. “I can’t answer your questions.”

I sighed. If this was how he wanted it, this was how it was going to be. “Fine. We’ll see how you feel about that tomorrow.”

Harry lowered his head. My heart twanged a bit. He looked broken, and I placed myself in his situation. In jail, forced to be treated like an animal, herded around with chains and a jumper suit that was way too big. I felt bad for him, for Harry Styles did not seem like a murderer. If I had to choose right now, I’d choose that he was innocent. He hadn’t shown me anything but respect and love.

I bit my lip. “What’s your favorite color?”

Harry’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” I saw the hurt and felt sorry for him once more. Everyone treated him like less than human now that he had committed a crime.

“I said, what’s your favorite color.”

Harry breathed in, twisting his hands nervously. “Blue,” he managed.

“Mine’s purple.”

Silence.

This is going to be harder than I thought, I said to myself. “What’s your favorite song?”

Harry looked at me again, like I had grown a third eye. “Why are you asking me all of this? Don’t you have stuff to do, people to talk to? Places to be?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But if you’re not gonna answer my other questions, you could answer these instead.”

Harry sighed. “I like Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy.”

I was about to tell him what mine was- it was Skinny Love by Birdy- when someone knocked at the door. In walked Harry’s two guards. Their eyes widened when they saw who it was, and the shorter of the two- Bert, his name read- grimaced. “Sorry ‘bout on the elevator, ma’am,” he apologized. I smiled. “It’s fine.”

Harry flinched as the taller one- Fred- came close. I noticed how Harry tensed and even winced a bit when Fred put his chains back on. I blurted out towards Harry, “What prison are you in?”

He looked into my eyes, gazes locked. “Bentley.”

I tried to hide my grimace. There was bad prisons, and then there was Bentley. Bentley, where prisoners died in it’s walls. Bentley, which used to be an old mental institution. Bentley, who was much more of a modern day Auschwitz than anything else

Bentley.

I watched as Bert and Fred led Harry out into the hallway. I watched as they jostled him into the elevator, and I watched as Harry turned around and looked straight into my eyes.

I watched everything in the hallway, but they only thing I did not see was the man, standing in the shadows- watching me.

A/N: I am so happy that everyone likes this story. I have huge plans for this, so I'm freaking ecstatic. :)

ps- i know i said i have an update schedule, but. you know beth.