Mission Impossible

Chapter 50 ~ No Trust

HARRY'S POV

  All of my tracking, and all of Sammy's hacking, led me here to Frazier's. I grimaced as I looked around the stuffy club. I knew Clara well enough to know  she would not choose to speak her time at this place, and judging by the shady 'bouncers' at almost every door, my instincts told me this was a job. Knowing that Clara was well enough to be able to go on missions gave me some comfort, but having a hunch that she was okay wasn't my mission. Finding her was.

  "You're new," a slurred voice said behind me, and I turned in time to see a small woman with blonde hair sauntering towards me, sporting a seductive smile. She was fit, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered she had chosen to hit on me out of everyone in this club, but I had more important things on my mind than girls. At least this girl.

  "I'm here for business, not pleasure," I told her, continuing to look around the club, for anything.

  "Who says you can't mix the two?" she offered, reminding me of something Clara would say. Speaking of Clara... I pushed past the blonde girl as I spotted something. Someone.

  She was tall, with brown hair spilling down her back. Her long, tan legs were on full display, and she was alone. The closer I got, the faster I moved. Once I reached her, I put my hand on her shoulder, turning her towards me. My heart dropped as brown eyes started back at me, instead of the piercing green ones I had come to love.

  "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," I explained, walking away from the dance floor to gather myself. It was stupid of me to even think that would be Clara, as if she would come back to a place she pulled off a mission.

  Just as I was about to call it quits, I watched as a bouncer asked the blonde girl from before up to the V.I.P. room. My eyes trailed, remembering how Clara got pulled up there on our second mission together. There to welcome her was the guy who ran the club, except he wasn't.

  When Sammy found a trail here, we did some research on the place before I visited. On its webpage was the guy who ran the club, and that was not the man I saw in front of me now. Andrew, I think his name was. Knowing this, I walked over to a bartender, and leaned across the bar.

  "Do you know where Andrew is?" I asked the bartender, who never stopped cleaning the glass in his hand.

  "He's gone, and he took some of the bouncers with him. Guess he's going to start his own club or something," he yelled back to me. "He's the new Andrew," he said, nodding up at the guy in the V.I.P. booth, chatting up the blonde. I tipped him a few dollars and went on my way, exiting the club and walking across the street, where I parked my car. That's where I sat for the next four hours, bored out of my mind and on the verge of sleep. I watched as people came in and out, but nothing peaked my interest until closing time, when I saw my target exit the building.

  The 'New Andrew' strutted out of the club, clearly content with his new gig, and climbed in a car parked at the front of the lot. I started my own car, ready to tail him home. It would be rude of me not to congratulate him on his promotion.

CLARA'S POV

  "You coming to bed?" Zayn called from the kitchen door leading out to porch I was sitting on.

  "Just enjoying the night," I responded, looking out at the view. It was quite a nice place. I wonder how Zayn afforded it. Then again, I'm sure not having to pay taxes since he's 'dead' has made quite the impact.

  "I thought it was too chilly out?" Zayn said, remembering what I had said earlier. I had nothing to hide, and yet I felt like I had been caught in a lie. So what do I do?

  "Yeah, but not if I have someone to hold me," I flirt, looking up at Zayn, who was pleased with my response.

  "So you're sleeping with me tonight?" he asked hopefully.

  "Is that okay?" I asked him, trying to feel out where we were right now, as that seemed to flip flop at every turn.

  "Of course," he said, coming up behind me and putting his arms around me as I sat. "As far as I'm concerned, it's our room," he told me. I smiled and patted his arm.

  "Well, I'll be up to our room in a minute," I told him, wanting another moment outside. Still, Zayn remained wrapped around me. "I'll meet you up there," I added. Zayn unwrapped his arms from around me and took a seat next to me.

  "I can wait," he said with a smile. While this could have been a sweet gesture, I knew it was not.

  "You still think I'm going to run?" I asked him. Zayn shrugged.

  "You already have, what? Two times? Three?" he asked. "I lost count."

  "What do I have to do to gain your trust?" I asked him, although he didn't say a word. So I did what I did best, and slowly got out of my seat, walking over to him and trailing my arms across his shoulders, before bending down and kissing his neck. Zayn let out a low hum.

  "Do you trust me?" I whispered against his neck. Zayn said nothing, so I walked in front of him, putting either of my legs around his and straddling him. I leaned into him, our lips so close to touching. "Do you trust me?" I asked him again. I felt Zayn growing hard underneath me, and knew I would have him soon, even if he only said it to please me. I waited, and yet the words I wanted to hear remained unsaid.

  "Trust is overrated anyways," I grumbled, pushing myself off of him and walking inside, my frustration growing by the minute. I walked up the stairs and halted outside of Zayn's room, until deciding against it and walking further down the hallway to a guest bedroom. 

  As I walked in, I could hear Zayn coming up the stairs, following me. I walked inside the room and closed the door, walking over to the bed to get it ready for sleep. As I peeled back the covers and removed some of the pillows, I heard the door open.

  "Don't worry, I'm still here. I haven't fastened a rope out of bed sheets and climbed out the window," I spat.

  "Clara...," Zayn trailed off. I waited for him to finish, but he never did. "Come to bed," he finally said.

  "I'm already in bed," I said as I climbed into the guest bed. There was a pause and it was silent, until I felt the bed dip next to me.

  "Then I'm sleeping here, too," Zayn said, wrapping his arm around me.

  "Because you want to be next to me, or because you want to keep an eye on me?" I questioned. The silence was answer enough. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

  "You killed me, Clara," he said softly. "You keep running away. You're a total wild card, and I don't know what to do with you," he admitted. With everything that had happened between us, I wouldn't trust me either. But it still hurt.

  "Until you trust me, I can't trust you," I told him, removing his arm from around me and scooting away. I would have gotten up and left, if Zayn wouldn't have just followed me wherever I went.

  I understood completely. If Zayn had done to me what I had done to him, he wouldn't be able to earn back my trust in a million years. But if he could still love me, how could he not find it in his heart to trust me?

  I thought back to how I was able to trust Harry after he had captured me and brought me to Greywood. And then I mentally smacked myself for thinking about Harry. He had probably moved on, thinking I was dead, and it was better that way, too.

  A tear rolled down my cheek, and I attributed it to my fight with Zayn, but that little voice in the back of my mind told me otherwise. I secretly wiped the tear from my face, refusing to cry over a man who I was sure was not even thinking of me.

HARRY'S POV

  "I'm looking for someone, and I'm not leaving until you give me something to help me find her," I said, my gun pointed at Frazier's new front man.