In which a former gang member finds solace in a woman who might just be as much of a Nowhere Woman as much as he...a Nowhere Man.
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For mature audiences only
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c h a p t e r n i n e ⋆✧⋆
It's been a day since Gillian had arrived at Harry's secret hideout in Utah. A place she didn't even have to think about twice when they went searching for him after the shooting at Luxe.
However, Gillian has come alone this time as Louis and Lucy now reside in New York for now. She had stayed back in Nevada to continue the search for Harry and now all thanks to her great memory when she had tracked most of his secret hideouts over the course of trying to find him, she assumed that the fatigue ridden man would most likely crash at the first place he could in his haste to escape the chaos in Nevada and she was most definitely correct.
Now here she sits in her make shift bed on the couch with Harry lying on his mattress in the dark room he has been staying in for the past week. His body is sprawled out with the fan above him blowing a cool breeze around the room. He hasn't spoken a word since finding out the news about Niall Horan's death and Gillian has respected that by keeping her distance to let the man mourn.
She now sits polishing her gun and knives cross legged on the couch as the clock strikes midnight. Every so often she observes Harry by looking up to glance across the room to peak in his bedroom and see how he is holding up but by the looks of his tired eyes staring at the cieling with thoughts reeling through his mind, she knows that if another death were to happen in his life....he might just go insane.
With a sigh, Gillian pushes off the couch after placing her heavy gun down and decides a drink would be great right about now. With uneasy eyes she peaks at Harry as she walks by his bedroom door slowly. "I'm making a drink do you want one?" She asks and he continues to stare at the roof without acknowledging her in the slightest. So she glances to her feet with a gulp and walks to the kitchen to grasp a bottle of vodka and decides to make him one anyway.
It's when she starts to poor some vodka into a glass does Gillian find movement in the corner of her eye and slowly places the bottle of vodka down to glance at the open windows of the small house. She feels her breathing steady as her ears strain to hear any sort of noise. Slowly, she walks around the counter and down towards the living room where the movement was headed. With a calm breath, she grasps her knife strap with all her small throwing knives and hooks it onto her bare thigh as she wears only pj shorts and a singlet. Then she picks up her black handgun and holds it close to her, all the while still looking outside each window to find anything that may be out of place or look strange.
Meanwhile, Harry sits up in his bed and reaches to press play on the record player beside his drawers and sits back with a pleased exhale when he listens contently to the rock n roll beat of All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix. He bobs his head slightly, a strange chuckle emitting from his mouth as he remembers the Irishman he had grown up with since meeting him at the age of eighteen.
