Brutality | Harry Styles

Chapter 23

Melody barely had time to process what she had just heard before Harry had reached one arm around the corner into the kitchen and was dragging her behind him with the other. She began to protest, but felt her jaw go slack as she glanced around his shoulder. In the hand that wasn't clutching at Melody's wrist, Harry held a gun. She watched him cock the hammer back with his thumb and heard that familiar click that she had heard so often in movies.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she demanded. She twisted her wrist in his hold. It was beginning to ache.

"Please, for once, don' talk."

Melody felt her lips part in surprise. She quit struggling and instead stared at the back of Harry's head, perhaps waiting for an apology, or any sign of remorse, for that matter. Whatever she was waiting for, however, did not come. His attention was elsewhere.

"What're yeh doin' here?" he snapped at the man still poised on the steps. "How'd yeh find me?"

"Really wasn' that hard," the man replied.

Melody could perceive a whisper of resemblance between them. They had the same lilted accent, and this man's face echoed Harry's in the smallest details—the slope of an eyebrow, the curve of a smirk. But Harry had never mentioned a sibling, had never even revealed any clue that would make her question that he was an only child. A brother?

"Tracked yeh down t'this area, heard about a fighting ring." The man shrugged casually. A smile still rested upon his lips despite the barrel of a gun trained at his chest. He didn't even seem to register it. "Guys there were happy t'tell me where yeh live. Didn' know yeh had a brother. 'M guessin' this li'l lady didn' know either."

Melody winced as Harry's fingers tightened on her wrist. Her free hand grabbed at the waist of the sweatpants he had slipped back into. "Harry," she said, tugging at the material, "stop."

Harry's grip slackened, but not enough for Melody to pull her arm free. She gave up and resorted to peeking around his shoulder.

"'M Colton," said the man, almost talking through Harry, "Harry's brother."

"No yeh're not," Harry snapped. "Now, what're yeh doin' here?"

Colton sighed, leaning into the railing that lined the steps. "Can't even introduce me t'your girl?" he asked. "Shame, that."

"Why are yeh here?" Harry demanded. "'M not gonna ask again."

"Well, 's your birthday, innit?" Colton asked. His eyes traveled back down the side of Melody's body that wasn't obstructed by Harry. "Looks like I missed the celebration, though."

Melody took a step closer to Harry, until her cheek brushed his arm. He was suddenly hyper-aware that she wasn't wearing underwear under his shirt, and Melody could feel his back tense and could tell that his jaw was probably just as tight.

"Yeh want money, don' yeh?" Harry asked. "Well, I don' have any t'give yeh."

"Tha's insulting," Colton replied, but his smile didn't falter. "But, as a matter of fact, I know yeh do have money. A whole bunch, i do believe."

Harry shook his head, but even Melody could tell it wasn't at all convincing.

"C'mon, Haz. Get tha' thing outta my face. Aren' yeh gonna invite me in? Have a lot of catchin' up t'do."

"Get off my fuckin' steps, Colton. And don' come back."

"Hey, now," Colton said with a mocking tilt of his head. "Bein' pretty rude to someone who crossed an ocean t'come see yeh."

"I said fuck off. Leave or I will put a bullet in your chest." Harry shook the gun in his hand to signal that he meant it.

Melody tried once more to free her arm. "Harry," she breathed, "please, just—"