Psychotic (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 35

A.N. HII SO I SUCK I KNOW I SAID I WOULD DO A DOUBLE UPDATE AND I DIDNT IM SORRY. JUST LOSING AN HOUR TODAY AND THEN STUDYING AND EVERYTHING GOT IN THE WAY BUT I SWEAR THAT I WILL DO A DOUBLE UPDATE SOMETIME IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS SO IM SORRY AND THANK YOU :) PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE ILY

CHAPTER 35

"I'm ready to talk."

We exchanged sideward glances. Dubious, yet slightly excited glances. Harry was amused, I could see it in the slight upturn of his full lips.

"About him," Jane continued when neither of us responded.

"About who?" Harry asked. Jane's wide pale eyes looked to his face as she spoke. I swear, no matter how hard I tried Harry got more of a response from people without even trying at all. He had a certain intriguing quality about him, and I didn't seem to be the only one cast under his spell.

"The one . . . the one that knows my name." Her small voice wavered slightly, but Harry nodded for her to continue. So she did.

"He wears one of those uniforms," she said, nodding toward a guard who was leaned up against the wall. "He's one of them. Or maybe he's all of them."

"What do you mean?" Harry softly asked. We both knew that the slightest thing might make her end the conversation, so he spoke with caution.

"Sometimes he has dark hair and dark eyes. But not always. Sometimes his eyes are blue, and his hair is more white."

I was puzzled, trying to dissect her insane words to make sense of them. But Harry wasn't confused, and if he was, he didn't show it.

"How does he know your name, Jane?" he questioned.

The troubled girl looked down into her lap and wouldn't meet our faces as she whispered. Whispered so quietly, in fact, that I could barely hear her tiny voice. "He comes to my cell sometimes."

Harry's eyes looked to mine a second time, our shared gaze worried now, anxious. Jane continued.

"When his eyes are blue he touches me. He waits until nobody is around, and he locks the door. I get scared. I always tell him I'm scared and I don't want him to but he doesn't listen. When his eyes are brown, he's more mean, and he makes me touch him. When I say no he threatens me. When he has brown eyes he is the worst. But both times he knows my name, he always says my name. He says it to try and calm me like my father used to. But it doesn't work."

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered under his breath. And then I realized; she was talking about two different men. She was a helpless, confused prisoner, and there were two guards here who used her as one. A sex slave to two disgusting employees. Trading her off, taking turns. She was actually quite pretty, especially compared to the other women here. And she was extremely vulnerable; the perfect target.

"How often does this happen?" I asked. This time she spoke to me directly.

"Every few days. Sometimes only once every week. But he always comes, and he always says my name."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. "Do you know which one it was? Was it any of them here?" He pointed along the outskirts of the cafeteria, no doubt suspecting James as the culprit.

"Don't point!" Jane said. "He'll know were talking about him if you point." And then, more calmly she added, "but I don't see him." James was directly in her view, and her expression was unchanged when she saw him. So maybe it wasn't James, maybe he wasn't the only loathsome guard here.

Harry looked at Jane right in the eyes, and she faltered slightly. "Can you do me a favor, Jane? If you see him or find out his name, come and tell me, okay?"