Stockholm Syndrome (Larry Stylinson)

Rewrite Sneak Peek No.2

Here is a sneak peek of the 2nd chapter to the rewrite. I like it a lot more than the original, and I feel like the situation is a lot more delicate and realistic because Harry isn't automatically trusting of Liam or any of the boys.

Let me know what you all think!

The rewrite will be published on New Years day! Who's excited? 😊

Ch. 2 Sneak Peek:

   "Where- where am I?" I asked, looking around the room to see torn and unpleasant beige wallpaper on the wall, revealing a light tan wood behind it. I was right when I noticed that there wasn't really any furniture in the room besides the bed and the wooden chair. Everything felt old, dusty and unkempt. Unclean. The worst part was not being able to tell time without a clock nor a window to see the sun out of. "H-how long have I been here?"

     Liam sat directly in the spot he was standing in, crossing his legs and staring at me. I sank down to the floor as well, holding my knees to my chest and trying to focus on my breathing. He offered me a smile that seemed kind, but I wasn't completely oblivious. He had to have some kind of hidden agenda behind the nice act.

    "I can't really tell you much, but you're at one of our hideout locations," He began, and my brain seemed to be on overdrive, trying to make sense of everything.

   One of their hideouts? That meant they had several more. That meant they knew what they were doing. It also meant that there was a possibility that this wasn't the final place I was to be held in.

   "I'm actually surprised you're awake," He continued, letting out a small laugh. "Most people would be knocked out for a while longer."

    I thought about the dart that the other guy shot into my neck. It must've been the same kind used on all of the bodyguards outside of my house. A tranquilizer? It seemed that way because of how sleepy it made me feel after a while. I wondered if all of the bodyguards were okay or if any of them saw the person who shot them.

   "You've kidnapped someone before?" I asked, though I wouldn't be surprised by his answer if he confirmed my suspicions. They were able to take out all of the bodyguards at my house. They knew what they were doing, and they did it well. But based on the conversation I heard just moments before, I wasn't part of the original plan. Money. That's what they were after. They wanted my parent's money. So why was I here? I had a pretty good guess.

    "It comes with the job," Liam stated, but I noticed that he didn't seem too keen on discussing the topic. In fact, he almost looked angered by it. It was odd.

   We both sat in silence as I let everything sink in-- my situation, the tiny bit of information I just learned, and the realization as to why I was here; why they needed me.

   I looked over at Liam, and I took in his features. He had dark brown hair that fell flat on his head and brown eyes that seemed trustworthy and kind, but I wouldn't let my guard down. He was a kidnapper and a thief. He may not have been the one to shoot me in the neck with a tranquilizer dart, but he was still part of the reason I was taken. He was still helping to hold me hostage, and I couldn't trust him.

     "Um, I'll get you something to drink. Just... try to eat," He said as he stood back up and moved toward the door. I watched him walk away, shutting the door behind him, and I heard the slightest click of a lock being turned. I was locked in this vacant room once again.

    I could smell the food that Liam placed on the bed when he first walked into the room, and I tried to ignore the way my stomach growled at the delicious scent. I didn't want to eat anything they offered me. It would be stupid to trust anything they were giving to me. So, I did my best to ignore the scent of the food, staying in my spot on the floor in the corner of the room, and I tried to think of a way to get out of here.

    If I tried to make a run for it whenever this Liam guy came back, then I would most likely get caught. Besides, even if I did manage to slip by him, how many other people were in this building? How many people did I need to avoid? It would be a foolish plan because I didn't even know where they brought me to. I had no clue what our surroundings were and whether or not I would even be able to run to a safe place or to civilization to ask for help.

    Fighting back wasn't an option either. Even if Liam didn't have any back-up, he still looked a lot stronger than I did. I remembered how him and that other guy were able to restrain me so easily back at my house. It seemed nearly futile to try and fight against them. Also, how many more of those tranquilizer darts did they have on them?

    I didn't see a separate toilet room connected to the room. Perhaps I would be allowed out if I said that I had to use the toilet. Even if it wasn't freedom, it would be a good start in getting to know the layout of the place-- at least of the hall or rooms around me.

    My head snapped over to the door as I heard the lock turn and the door push open. I was expecting to see the brown head of hair poking through the door again, but I was instead met with raven black hair and dark, chiseled features.

    It was the other guy that took me from my house-- Zayn. He stood tall and relaxed. He didn't seem to have a care in the world as he sauntered into the room and shut the door behind him. My eyes noticed the many tattoos littering his arms in the sleeveless top he was wearing, the ink only proving to make him more intimidating and standoffish. He smirked at me and leaned against the door to the room, arms crossed over his chest.

    "Finally awake, aye beautiful?" He questioned rhetorically, and then he kicked himself off of the wall and stepped further into the room. I felt my whole body tense at his approach, but he didn't come near me. Instead, he walked over to the bed and glanced at the still full plate of food there. "It'd be rather rude not to eat the meal Liam worked so hard to put together for you, don't you think?"

   I didn't offer a response. I simply stared at him as he walked around the side of the bed and took a seat on it, starring at me with his head in his hands.

   "You've caused us a bit of a problem. See, you weren't our original target. If you would have just stayed in your room that night, then none of this would have had to happen," He said, and my stare turned into a glare at the audacity this man had.

   "You didn't have to take me," I replied, trying to sound tough and unafraid, but my voice betrayed me as it wavered in fright. "I told you I didn't know where the safe was."

   "Ah, but we couldn't exactly leave without finishing the job. Besides, the boss will be pleased to know we still have hope at getting the money we need. You're our ticket to millions, beautiful," He said, throwing me a wink, and I scowled.

   "Stop calling me that," I nearly snapped, not wanting to hear the words that sounded so familiar. Not only because they were coming from my kidnapper.

    "You are, though. All of the magazines say so. Your parents' interviews are quite interesting. Did you know that they hardly mention you when you aren't around? Liam and I didn't know they even had a son until we were briefed on it," He said, and I tried to ignore the words.

   I knew I was invisible to my parents. I knew that my only role in their life was to take over the family business and be a son that they could be proud of. I was to inherit everything, run the business with the same level-headedness that they did, control the daily lives of thousands of people working underneath me, marry for the good of the business-- not for love-- and then die from over working myself. I only existed for their business to carry on. I knew that, but that didn't make the words that left his mouth sting any less.

    "Hey, don't worry," Zayn added, pulling out a paper from his back pocket. He unfolded it and allowed me to see the headline on it. "You're all they talk about since last night."

   The Heir to the Styles Industry Taken!

   That's what the headline read. It wasn't necessarily about me. Even through my own kidnapping, it only seemed to matter that I was the heir to all that my parents' owned.