The Runner ➳ Narry (Book One)

Chapter Twenty-Five

(Louis' POV)

"Where are we going?" Niall's thick accent cut in from the backseat of the taxi. I rolled my eyes to myself, he was asking too many questions. Just shut up. 

"Yeah, Louis. Where are we going now?" Harry asked. I clenched my hands harder around the steering wheel and glanced over to him, Niall's head popping in through the middle of our seats.
"I don't know," I said. "We can't go back to the flat now." I looked into the rear view mirror to see a deserted street, lightning and thunder still going off. The windshield wipers weren't going fast enough, rain pellets clouding my vision. 

"Why can't we?" Harry asked. 

I let out a soft sigh, trying not to get frustrated. "Because Jeff-"

"I need to pee," Niall cut me off. Both Harry and I looked over at him with cocked eyebrows.  

"What?" I asked, holding in a laugh. 

"I need to pee," he repeated, his cheeks flushing red but his face serious. "Can we pull into a gas station quickly?" 

"No," I said simply. 

"Lou," Harry said with a warning voice. "They're far behind. Just pull into a station."

"I'm not taking any chances," I said, my grip around the steering wheel getting tighter again. 

"But I really need to go," Niall whined. 

"I don't care, we're not stopping until we're at a safe distance," I said sternly. 

"Louis, just pull over," Harry said. I felt myself getting frustrated. "We're safe."

"We're not fucking safe, Harry!" I yelled. My breathing was hard and fast, my throat burning from the tone I used. I saw Harry wince out of the corner of my eye, Niall backing up and disappearing from between the front seats. That didn't stop me though. "We're never going to be fucking safe! That guy is trying to kill you, Harold! Are you stupid?" 

Harry stayed silent for a moment, leaning his head against the taxi window. "Don't call me Harold," he said softly. 

I sighed and ran a clammy hand through my soaked hair. I looked in the review mirror of the taxi, seeing no cars or any sign of life. I was contemplating pulling over for Niall when my cell phone started buzzing in my pocket, signalling a call. I pulled it out of my pocket and pressed the answer button, not bothering to check the caller ID. "Hello?" I spoke exhaustingly into the receiver. 

John's scratchy voice came through. "Tommo," he said. "I thought you agreed to the two a.m. run."

I groaned silently, looking over to Harry who was already staring at me with a questioning look. "I'm in a bit of a situation right now. I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight. Or tomorrow, for that matter."

"What are you on about?" John asked. I could just imagine the putrid smell of his alcohol breath exiting his mouth as he spoke. 

"Um, well," I started. I felt Harry poke at my arm in questioning, but I ignored him. "It's hard to explain."

"You better start trying," John said. 

"Who is it?" Harry asked beside me. I shook my head at him and tried to focus on the road in front of me and the man on the other end of the phone. 

"Was that Styles?" John asked. 

"Look, we're getting sort of chased down by a crazy client of yours who wants Harry dead," I spat out, trying to get John on another topic. "We can't go back to the flat, we're in a stolen taxi and we have no clothes. We're basically fucked."

"Are you running tonight or not?," John said, completely ignoring my explanation. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I half shouted. "God, I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Hey!" Niall and Harry both said in unison. I rolled my eyes.

----------------------------------

"We're low on gas," I said, turning on my blinker and pulling into the gas station. Harry nodded and turned around to wake up Niall, who had fallen asleep on the backseats. 

"Still need to pee?" He asked. Niall shot right up, nodding furiously. Harry chuckled and undid his safety belt just as I pulled into a pump spot. I switched off the ignition and got out of the taxi, Niall stumbling out and following Harry hurriedly into the store. I sighed and turned to the pump, running a hand through my hair as I began to fill up the taxi with gas.

I let my eyes wander around the surprisingly busy parking lot, country music from the station's outdoor speakers and foreign voices filling my ears. My gaze locked on a shiny red Camaro that was pulling up to the pump beside the taxi. My heart started beating faster, mind tripping over reality as I thought of scenarios of who could be driving. Was it Jeff and his guys? Had they tracked us down already? I swear I took a few good turns here and there. I thought we had lost them. 

I stopped pumping gas and watched, praying that Harry and Niall wouldn't walk out of the station just yet. I ducked low, hiding behind the taxi and watching through the tinted windows as the Camaro's ignition shut off, a man stepping out.

And phew. It wasn't Jeff. My breathing returned to normal as I stood up straight, returning to the pump. The man from the shiny sports car disappeared into the convenience store, passing Niall and Harry as they exited the glass doors. 

Approaching the taxi, Niall had a stupid grin on his face and Harry's quiff was messed up, pieces sticking up here and there in a disheveled mess. I snickered quietly to myself and shot them a smirk. "Try to make it less obvious next time you two decide to snog in a bathroom stall."

Niall's cheeks turned a rosy red, Harry returning the sly smirk. "Jealous, Lou?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Not at all," I replied with a laugh. 

"We need a new car," Niall said. "That Jeff guy is probably out on the streets checking every Addison Lee for us."

For some reason, I found myself staring at the Camaro again. I let Niall's words sink in, we do need a car. One that Jeff would never suspect three - well two - slummy drug runners to own.  

"What kind of a car would we be safe in?" Harry asked. I narrowed my eyebrows, thinking about it. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

I stopped pumping gas, pulling out the nozzle. I turned to Niall and Harry, a smirk playing on my lips. 

"How about a Camaro?"