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Harry's POV.
I stroll out of the alley with my hands deep in my front pockets, like nothing is happening and I'm not hiding a beautiful girl from God knows what.
"Grace," someone screams again and I look up to him. He's looking around like a mad man with wide eyes and dirty clothes. He has dark eyes and dirty blond hair, something in him reminds me of Grace. Maybe the shape of his eyes or the way he bites his bottom lip trying not to freak out. He seems angry. Good, because I'm too.
"Grace," he yells again and I force myself to walk in his direction. He's now passing the library, heading in my direction but not looking at me yet.
"Excuse me sir." I call him and his head snaps in my direction almost instantly. I freeze in place and gulp. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's scary. He doesn't seem too much older than me maybe he's in his late thirties, maybe forty-two; but still, looking at him is like looking at some creep devil thing. He's tall, maybe a head taller than Grace but not taller than me.
"Oh kid," he says walking towards me, stumbling a little. Something shines in his eyes, maybe hope, maybe he's a little high. Is he drunk? He grabs hold of my arm and I try hard not to jerk him away. I have to go along with it if I want to know what's happened. Maybe he's not the person that did whatever has happened to her, maybe he's just searching for someone else with the same name as Grace. Yes, sure. Keep telling yourself that Harry.
"Maybe you can help me." I feel his nails drawing in my skin a little but I don't move.
"Sure, what do you need?" I ask as politely as possible. The only thing that I want to do right now is to smash his face against the concrete and hit him until he can't do any more harm to my little girl.
"I was wondering, maybe you've seen a girl, long light brown hair, blue eyes, acting strange. She's really beautiful." He says, licking his lips like he's talking about the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. I'm pretty sure that I'm becoming green because I feel sick thinking about Grace. I look down at his hands. They're big and rough. I imagine them going up and down Grace's body, leaving marks, mistreating her wonderful skin. I grit my teeth and take a long breath.
"What's wrong with her?" I ask crossing my arms, jerking his hand gently off of me.
"She's not fine. She didn't take her pills and she needs to come back home, to me." No way in the hell am I going to believe to this bullshit. Grace is not crazy, I can tell because I've seen her eyes, they are full of pain and sadness but they are clear like pure crystals. There's no madness in them, not even a little bit. Whereas in his, I can almost touch it, I can see it crossing his face while he's trying his best to control himself and not jump on me beating the hell out of me. Actually I'd like him to try, so I'll have an excuse to crush my fists against his disgusting face.
"I know where she is." I grab his arm and lead him to where Grace is hiding. But I don't let him get any closer to her. I just want to take him off of the street so I can do whatever I want. As soon as we leave the road and walk a little more into the dark alley, I push him against the wall, so much so that I almost stop his circulation.
