Impulse

Twelve

*NARRATOR'S POV*

Louis had a best friend and great opportunities handed to him when he moved to this town a yearago. Now he's partially lost the first and doesn't think he deserves the last. Does he? Why shouldhe? He let himself be ambushed by the infamous Styles twin brothers. Had he? All he reallydid was get an internship at the Madhouse.Maybe he can rectify all of this with a down to Earth honest conversation with Edward and Harry.They have to understand. Edward at least.The knock on his door, three rapid taps on the hard wood, gives Louis the hope that maybe Niallreturned. He jumps up, unaware of the time that's already so late, to go open it while wiping histear-stained cheeks. 

"Niall-" He chops his glee in quarters when he instead sees his mother, rather than his friend.She looks shaken, absolutely distraught with bags under her dull blue eyes. Louis frowns and shiftsaside, sniffing to prevent a sneeze. His mother was holding her purse against her chest like she'safraid imaginary hands will snatch it away from her. Her clothes are disarrayed and torn at theknees, dirty and her lips puffy.

 "Mother?" He looks her over head to toe, utterly lost for an appropriate response. "Whathappened?"

 "Get inside!" She hissed and pushed her way in, slamming the door shut for him but not beforeLouis heard an elevator arrive on his floor. 

"What's happening?!" He repeated when she grabbed his arm, pretending to not want to shove heroff, and dragged him towards the kitchen.His heart is pounding with the unwarranted stimulation, but nowhere near as badly as hers.

 "Someone's here for me." She answered his enquiry at last, husky soft and eyes darting to everyharmless object present with them.

 "What? Who?" Louis implores, studying the change in her expression from scared to hesitant. 

"My old.....boss.""Your bloody pimp!" Louis knows his mother's one and only 'boss' is a ruthless Russianwith no regard for individual self preservation. "You brought him to my apartment-" 

Louis leaves her alone in the lightless kitchen to grab his phone and dial the police. This needs to betaken care off quickly and smoothly with the proper authorities because Louis does not imaginehe'll survive more violence in his life.

 His mother stops him. "No!" 

"Don't touch me." He bites back, furthered to rudeness by the dark cloud of today. 

Her hand recoils but she still tries to prevent bringing the police in. "He's dangerous, Lou. Sodangerous. He'll-"

 "And yet you still got involved with him." Louis spits with a narrowed glare, letting her know it's allfor her stupid self.Someone knocks on the front door. 

It's hardly human strength that the banging ensues with, butrather some great monster was trying to break the structure down. 

"We're calling the police." Louis states with finality.

* * * * *

Edward flips over the coffee table with a kick. It completes a half-spin and crashes loudly as theshatterproof glass cracks. The metal framework hardly holds in the shards and along with the piecesfrom a picture frame that he smashed earlier, sprays everywhere.He's not crazy, but spending twenty-six years with the only person he cares for who is in factmentally unstable gave him more than a few insuppressible anger issues.Harry is waiting for the rage storm to pass.

 He sits on their lounge single sofa closest to the exit andstares at the fit his brother is having."You know how much this damned town hates us and you took him to the place that evenmore reason to?!" Edward exposed his bruised and cut knuckles.