Sold // Harry Styles

Chapter 17

The thin material of my dress is slipped over my head.  Harry’s strong arms wrap around my body and lift me off the bed.  I lean against his chest and take in his usual comforting scent.

“Stay with me, Jackie,” he mumbles in my ear.  I bounce in his arms as he runs into another room and it makes my stomach become unsettled.  I squeeze my eyes shut in hope of blocking out the nauseous feeling that’s overwhelming to my body.

“Do you have any juice?” I can hear Harry ask as he gently lies me down on the couch.

“She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not,” he says in a chopped tone.  “Go get her juice now.  And a cold cloth to put on her forehead.  She’s burning.”

His palm presses against my forehead while his other hand lightly grazes the top of my arm.  His touch seems foreign and far away as my mind continues to seep into a dark place filled with confusion.  I feel like I’m on a boat that’s going through rough seas.  The swaying motion in my head ripples through my body and creates a nauseas feeling in the pit of my stomach.  The only thing keeping me afloat in my conscious state of mind is Harry’s touch settling on my skin.

“What’s wrong with her?” A.J. asks.

Harry quickly removes his hands from my head and arm.  The lack of his touch makes my head throb.

“I don’t know.  Bruce is getting juice for her,” he replies.

A.J. sighs impatiently and says something that I couldn’t catch.  I’m not sure if he was mumbling or speaking like he normally does.  My brain can’t register anything.

 “Took you long enough,” I think Harry says.  His words slur together.  He says something else but it sounds like he’s speaking in another language.

A cold cup is placed between my lips and as much as I want to feed myself, I can’t get enough energy in my body to take the cup from his hands.  The juice—orange juice—tastes bitter and harsh.  With each sip comes a new wave of acidity that makes my stomach churn with disgust.  I try to protest but Harry forces the drink down my throat.

A cold rag is placed on my forehead and I let out a loud sigh.  It makes my burning head and body feel better, though I still feel groggy.  I open my eyes and see the three men all gawking at me.  Harry doesn’t say anything but by the look on his face, I can tell he’s relieved.

He lets a small smile spread across his lips before it quickly gets wiped off.  A.J. looks at us suspiciously and then turns to face Bruce.

“Well, now that that’s over.  Where’s my money?”

Bruce clears his throat and nods his head as if to beckon him into another room.  “Let’s go talk…away from them.”

I watch as they walk into another room and close the door behind them.  Harry quickly grabs my hand in his and kneels beside me on the couch.

“How are you feeling?  Are you better?  Do you feel nauseous at all?  What can I do to help?  Here, drink some orange juice.”

He starts to bring the glass up to my lips but I stop him before the revolting liquid can slither down my throat.

“I hate orange juice,” I say with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes.  “Do you want something else?  I can get you something else, if you’d like.”

“I’m okay,” I say.  I feel like there’s holes in my words from the lack of power behind my voice.  It wavers with weakness.  “I want to leave.”

He looks at me sympathetically before nodding his head.  “I do too.”

He brushes the hair that’s glued to my face with sweat to the side as he looks into my eyes.  We don’t say anything for awhile.  We just gaze at each other.

“Let’s go,” A.J. barks from down a hallway interrupting our eye contact.  His footsteps are loud and heavy.  It makes the pictures on the wall shake.  Harry stands up as he breaks away from me.  I sit up and black dots line my eyes for a few seconds before they disperse.  “We’re leaving,” A.J. adds as he throws the front door open.

Harry helps me off the couch and I put most of my weight on his shoulders as he helps me to the car.

“What happened?” Harry asks as soon as we’re seated.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” A.J. scowls as he backs out of the driveway.  “Why the fuck are you sitting back there with her?  How many times do I have to tell you to sit in the front!”

He slams his fist against the steering wheel and his voice echoes through the empty car.  I feel myself shrink into the seat.  I watch as Harry reluctantly climbs over and sits down hesitantly next to his boss.

“It’s because of you that she didn’t get sold today!  Bruce thought you were ‘protective’ of her.  Of course, little miss la-dee-da over there just had to pass out.  I bet you even told her to do that!”

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t care what you say.  I don’t even wanna hear your voice.” He holds his hand up in the air to stop Harry from talking.  “I want silence,” he says as he glares at the road.

Harry looks at me through the side mirror.  I look back at him.  He rolls his eyes and I give him the same look back.  A.J. is such a drama queen.  He makes such a big deal about everything.

---

We’ve been in the car for an hour now and it’s still quiet—just like A.J. demanded.  The only sound is the tires rolling against the pavement and the frequent huffs of exaggerated sighs.

Harry and I play games in the mirror.  He raises his eyebrows and then I mimic him.  Then he adds something new each time it’s his turn and I have to remember what he does.  The movements are so subtle that A.J. doesn’t even notice.

I feel my eyes grow heavier as the minutes start to tick by.  I want to keep playing the game with Harry but the groggy feeling from the scenario is taking its toll on my body.  All I want to do is sleep and the sudden urge to close my eyes finally puts me to misery.

---

I wake up to the radio blasting a heavy rock song.  A.J. is still glaring out the window but at least it’s not as quiet when I fell asleep.  I look at Harry through the mirror and he’s looking down at his phone.  I wonder what happened to mine.  I had it when I went to Eastside Academy.  A.J. must have taken it.

We turn onto a rural road that I’m familiar with.  We’re getting closer to home.

“Another mysterious disappearance occurred at Eastside Academy according to a local Harwood resident,” a female voice says on the radio.  I lean forward as A.J. turns the volume up.  I can feel Harry stiffen in his seat.

“Eighteen year old, Jacqueline Armstrong, has been missing since the eighteenth of June.  Local neighbors claim they saw a lot of movement in the old, abandoned school that day.  There have been many reports on this building in the past and no one has ever been found.  If by any chance, you see a young girl with long, brown hair and brown eyes, make sure to call 9-1-1 immediately. We can only hope that she is okay.”

A.J. grips the steering wheel tighter as he clenches his teeth.  His knuckles turn white with anger.  I cower into my seat afraid to move.  He turns sharply into a driveway causing me to slam my head against the window.  The pain ricochets through my body.  He spins around in his seat to glare at me before thrusting his door open and opening mine.  He grips my arm and yanks me out of the car.

“You’re staying with Alice tonight.  Harry’s staying with me.”  A.J. says as he keeps a firm grip on my upper arm and knocks on the front door.  He mumbles angrily under his breath.

Alice opens the door and frowns when she sees A.J.  Before she has a chance to talk, A.J. throws me towards her.

“She’s staying with you for the night or two.  Harry and I need to have a chat.  Sleep well, Jacqueline,” A.J. sneers before turning on his heel to walk back to the car.