The Runner ➳ Narry (Book One)

Chapter Forty-One

(Harry's POV)

"Don't be so fucking rough," I muttered to the police officers as they shoved me into the car. "I have a broken collarbone."

The officer who's name tag read 'Smith' ignored me, slamming the door shut. The two of them then climbed into the front seats, starting the engine.

I wriggled around in my seat, uncomfortable since my one arm was handcuffed to my belt loop. I was thinking of just stripping my pants off and booking it with them dangling from my arm, but then I remembered I was completely immobile on my right side.

I sighed and leaned back in the seat, ignoring the stretching pain from my left shoulder as I braced all my weight on it. The arm in the sling was beginning to get sweaty, my forehead also dampening my hair with sweat.

I shifted around in the seat again, wincing as I accidentally banged my bad arm against the seat. "Hey," I said. The officer in the passenger seat turned around to look at me through the metal barrier that separated the backseat from the front.

"I told you to stay quiet," he barked, turning back around in his seat.

"No, no, no! Don't turn around. I have a question," I said. The officer sighed and faced me again. "Can you turn on the air conditioning? I'm sweaty."

"What makes you think you deserve the AC on?" He sneered.

I internally rolled my eyes, but kept a genuine look on my face. "Look, sir... officer. Sir Officer," he raised his eyebrows. "You don't want a sweaty twenty-year-old in your backseat. Unless you've got a nose plug, or some Fabreeze."

The officer sighed, looking to Smith for a minute, who shrugged, before turning back. "Keep your mouth shut from now on, Styles. I'll turn on the AC."

I mentally pumped a fist in the air. "Thank you, Mr. Sir."

The officer turned back around in his seat, rolling his eyes. Once I felt the AC come on, I cleared my throat, shifting around in my seat again. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cold air seeping through the barrier and fanning over my face.

"Do you understand how much trouble you're in, Styles?" Asked Smith, who was driving.

"No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

"We've got a smart-ass back there, Reimer," Smith said to the officer in the passenger seat.

Reimer turned to look at me again. "Four years we've been searching for you, Styles. Where have you been hiding all this time?"

I shrugged my good shoulder as much as I could against the restraints. "Living life without a fuck to give. You guys should learn how to do that sometime."

"Watch your mouth," Smith snapped. "You'll be in jail for a while with a tone like that against a federal officer."

"You asked me a question and I answered it," I snapped back.

"Shut your mouth now, Styles. I don't want to hear another word from you until you face the judge."

"Fuck you," I muttered under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I said okay."

I wish Niall was here.

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

(Niall's POV)

"About half a million."

My mum was silent on the other end of the phone for a few seconds before shouting. "What?!"

I removed the phone from my ear with a wince. I slowly brought it back, holding it a few centimetres from my ear just in case. "Calm down, Ma."