Inked Armor (Punk Niall)

Chapter 25

I seemed to be getting hit with déjà vu as I sped back to Niall and Zayn’s flat, similar to how I reciprocated it the night before. Only the first time it was my problems that were the cause, now I wasn’t even sure what would greet me at the door when I walked in.

But none of it made any sense, Zayn was at home with Niall. We both saw him walk in. So why was he so frantic for me to get there when he was already present? I rang him nonstop the whole way over, receiving the same voicemail in his Bradford accent that once used to calm me but now only increased my anxiety.

I called Niall too, not even getting a ring out of it. I cursed the fact that it was probably dead, neither of us had checked our phones all morning and I know I already experienced it this morning.

I made no thought to stop the second I got out of the car, bolting through the door and racing up the stairs; the elevator didn’t seem like a reliable or fast option and I had no time to waste. Though it didn’t really occur to me until I was physically outside the door that I could be walking into something impossibly dangerous, but that only stalled me for a second. I knew Niall would go against all odds and hazard if it meant saving me.

When I got into the flat, my heart sank because there was nobody there, but then started beating harder because there was nobody there. I called out Niall’s name, then Zayn’s a few times. I listened to see if the shower was running or if Zayn’s music was too loud so he couldn’t hear; but I was only met with silence.

And then there were footsteps coming from the hallway to the boys’ rooms, followed by muffled voices along with deep, harsh ones. It was very faint but so clear at the same time, like the waves of the ocean washing to shore, and it took only moments for me to process what was going on.

I turned to go to the door, but my time was already up for escape and someone was grabbing me by the shoulder. I was turned around abruptly face-to-face with a man with eyes as blue as a husky, my heart stopped and everything around me was silenced, vision only filled with these two blue holes that were empty of any love, life, or warmth.

Eyes that would have been an exact same replica of Niall’s if it weren’t for those very traits. It took only a fraction of a dreadful second to realize that I was looking at Bobby Horan; Niall’s father.

“You’ve got yourself a pretty lass, haven’t you, son?” His thick Irish accent scratched and boomed like a terrible thunder.

I shrunk back and tried to get around him to see where Niall or Zayn were. He caught my actions and only held me back harder. My body felt grimy and immoral with his large, greedy hands splayed out on my shoulders; and all I wished to do was push him off and wipe away all this impurity.

“And she’s a fighter,” I felt his hand trail down to my thigh and grip onto it, “this’ll be fun.”

“Leave…her the…fuck alone.” Niall’s voice came from somewhere in front of me, and I wanted to yelp and cry because he wasn’t dead, but by the way his voice came out breathless and choppy I knew they already hurt him. And a small part of me didn’t want to see Niall.

Without taking his greedy eyes off me, Bobby barked “Tommy, shut him up.” Followed by a painful thud and then Niall’s howls of pain. I closed my eyes hard and a single tear escaped.

“Leave him alone, leave your son alone.” I squeaked, ashamed as always at how un-intimidating I sounded. Bobby simply laughed in my face, and the scent of smoke and whiskey stung my nostrils.

“And why would I do that?”

In the midst of the sound of Niall and Zayn’s heavy, tired breathing, and the smell coming off of Bobby along with his hand still on my thigh, something came upon me and made me realize that nothing was going to come and save any of us. There was nobody I could rely on to save the day and hold my hand through this. I was practically alone, and it was my chance to prove that I was more than innocent little Hadley that everyone pitied, a chance to sort this chaos.

A second passed before my knee was coming up, driving straight into Bobby’s groin with everything I could muster. A painful yell was drawn from his mouth and he was falling to his knees, but not before I was grabbing the gun from his belt and holding it in front of me.

Tommy and the other lad by Zayn and Niall were already on guard, hand on their guns and charging me. I had never held a gun in my life, or shot one for that matter, but I remembered when Niall and I were watching an action movie and he gave me a short lesson on how to use one. That was enough experience for me to extend my arms out (not having time to stop and aim or collect myself) and shoot once, twice.

The bullets hit Tommy in the hip and the other guy in the leg, both of them stopping and dropping to the ground in agony. They weren’t kill shots, but I wasn’t about to kill anybody today.

I heard Niall and Zayn shouting things at me, but my ears sort of fogged out and they started to ring. I spun around and saw Bobby get up, so I shot him in the leg as well, kicking him a few times in the groin and stomach for good measure.

I was breathing hard by that moment, and just stood there for a minute and looked at all the men I’d just shot. My arms were shaking and my mind was dizzy.

“Hadley!” Niall’s voice came out clear, and then I remembered that they were still tied up, and the other guys would be up in no time. I raced over to the two and untied them, my fingers moving faster than my head could comprehend.

For the first time I looked at the boys, their blurry faces were battered, and their clothes were ripped with blood staining them. It sickened me to see them so hurt, and really this whole ordeal made me want to puke.

I didn’t process what was happening before Niall’s arms were around me, and the cool wooden floor was the only thing I felt before everything was pitch black and buzzing.