Dominant 2 (Harry Styles)

Chapter 2

Harry's P.O.V

Okay, so maybe I was giving this whole 'being locked up in a holding cell' thing a bad rep. It's actually not that bad, if I'm being honest. I was expecting some cold, gray walled room with white linoleum tiles, with a steel bar bed and some grotesque urinal looking toilet thing. But, as to my surprise, it's nothing like that. It still has the white linoleum tile floor, but the bed has been replaced with an actual couch and across the room from that is a recliner. And there's a television in here with a remote There isn't even a toilet in here either, which is making me really happy right now. And it seems they've sprayed some sort of Fe-breeze or something in here, it smells like cinnamon apples. 

I don't really remember how long I've been in here, they've taken my phone so I have no idea about the time. But seeing as I've watched one entire episode of Gogglebox and have started the second one, I can say I've been in here for almost an hour and a half. Even though Gogglebox has been keeping me a little okay, I still need to get to Allison. Every second I'm still stuck spent here watching these reruns is a second that I should be spending with Allison. 

I pull at the shit I'm wearing and see a couple splatters of blood scattered around the front of it, just great. I'll have to call Daron and see if he can bring me a set of clothes or something when I go to the hospital. I clench my hands into fists and examine my knuckles, the redness that was once there has turned into dark purple bruises along the bones. I must have really been beating the shit out of that guy if my knuckles took a beating of their own. I push my hands into my pockets and grab out a thin hairband, pulling it around my head and then pushing it over my forehead, bringing my curls back away from my sweaty forehead. With all of this blood and shit on me, I feel gross. I need a shower or something.

The door to the holding cell opens and I jump to my feet, standing there waiting for someone to come in. Which that doesn't take long, because Officer Wyatt walks right in with a couple papers and a pen in his hand. 

"Can I leave?" Are the first words that come out of my mouth, which make him chuckle.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, you are allowed to leave," He says, and I let out a good sigh and thank God, "Mr. Payne's side of the story matched up with yours, so you're free. We still have to talk to Mr. Horan, and get that all situated once Miss Carter is better, but for now, you're free to go. But, you just have to sign over these release papers, please."

"I'll sign anything if I can get the hell out of here." I mutter, but Officer Wyatt doesn't take it offensively because he chuckles.

I sign my name on the dotted lines a couple times before he reads me over the release rules, which was mandatory, and he's finally walking me out of the holding cell, he hands me my jacket, my cell phone and my wallet again. Once I reach the lobby, I see that Liam is still sitting in the chairs, hands folded on his lap and he's staring at the ground. He must sense we're here, because he looks up and stands to his feet once he see's me. 

"Can he go now?" Liam asks, looking at Officer Wyatt, who nods his head.

"Yep, good to go. He's all yours, Mr. Payne," Officer Wyatt then turns to me and sticks his hand out, "Stay out of trouble, Mr. Styles, you have a reputation to uphold."

I let out a dry laugh, "Yeah, I know."

We shake hands and then Officer Wyatt is gone, walking back down the hallway and off to another case. I look towards Liam and he looks at me.

"You didn't have to wait for me, I was going to have Daron come and pick me up, take me to the hospital." I tell him, but he just shrugs his shoulder.