060

H A R R Y 

Harry woke up, and it was like no pain that he started to feel all over his body was to amount to his anger and...finally, his anxiousness. This was a rare feeling. He's never made any contact with it. His mind was always free from these certain feelings, that would always hold others he knew back. Harry simply felt nothing like it. But that's what Catalina does to him. Makes him feel things he never has before. 

Catalina. Anxiety churned tightly in his stomach. He remembers instantly the flames, the noises, and her scream right before the momentum of the car got the best of him, and knocked him into a world of unconsciousness. Stunned, eyes wide, Harry sits up to find himself laying on a bed. Everything was black and white. Furniture precisely was black, and the sheets and comfortable objects were white. 

Frames and shapes were perfectly hung on the walls. Harry knew immediately whoever owned the place, had a very excessive need for order. He inhales deeply, ignoring the pain that burns in his body as his stands. He looks down his body to find a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt on it. He smells of a lavender, bleaching agent.

He clenches his jaw, an urgent, fearful feeling settles in his chest as he rapidly opens the door of the room to see even more organized spots of black and white. He hopes its a dream he can't get out of. But he knows it all felt too real, and he doesn't like to fool himself with happier thoughts. 

Catalina was gone, and the idea made him insane, absolutely mad. His crazy eyes observed the area, and he knocked door after door, angrily trying to find someone to blame for all of this, to take his anger out. But no one was to blame. It was just him. 

Harry wanted her all to himself. He didn't want to kill anymore, he didn't want to surround her in the threats of his career. But...he also didn't want to give her up. His selfishness brought them here. To a point where she could already be dead, and hopeless. There goes the only girl he has ever loved. 

Desperation was obvious when he opens a door, and he stands there, discussing something with a grey-haired man he knows nothing about. 

"How did I get here!?" Harry growls angrily, chest rising up and down. He was ready to break nearest objects, or harass the poor man that sat quite stunned of his appearance. 

But Louis wasn't surprised. He was used to seeing Harry like this. Louis is a man of his word, and he said as long as he got those codes, he will ensure their safety. The stupid lovebirds, he calls them. Louis was too professional to care about emotions, but he did care about business and keeping everything in order, and that includes his promises. 

"Where's Catalina!?" Harry yells lividly. When he receives no answer, he reaches over to a milky white glass. 

Louis nearly flinches at the misplacement, and calls out, "We don't know, Harry. And leave the vase alone. It did nothing to you." 

In no mood to be told what to do, Harry continues to raise his voice. He surprises himself when his voice cracks and he feels his eyes stinging. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He's losing it. He knows it. He's losing his mind. 

"Where is she?" He asks lowly, swallowing down a lump of absolute Hell in his throat that has formed from his desperation to see the girl. Or his woman. His. He liked to call her that. Gave him a sense that he didn't physically own her, but that she may always be forever his. That she could be the only thing that lasts in his life.

And this is what he hates. He fools himself. He always thinks happy with her. Happy, the word makes him absolutely angry. There is only a matter of time before it runs out and he's faced with this. 

"You're crying, mate," Louis tells him in a stunned breath, as if he doesn't already know. "Wow...you must really love this girl," he mutters to himself. 

"Where the fuck is she!?" 

"I don't know that!" He insists. One of the men walks in and escorts the grey-haired man out, knowing better. Louis nods him off, and the door shuts behind them. 

"I don't believe you," Harry growls, two glassy tears staining his cheeks unevenly. "Tell me where the fuck she is or I'll choke you with my bare hands." 

When Louis is aware he is dead serious, but still is not afraid of the crying, hurt boy, he sighs heavily and watches as Harry takes a step forward. "I am telling you the truth. What was your goal with her anyway?!" He shouts. "You think you were gonna escape her dad and her uncle!? You thought that you could get her away from the life she has, and your own, so you could be happily ever after? So you could have cute little babies and get married in some fucking deserted beach?! I didn't peg you for an emotional little cunt!" 

Harry silences, breathing heavily as Louis continues. "Focus, you crying shithead! I'm sure she's not dead yet, and we can help you get her back. After all, I have a promise to fulfill."

"I can't just...focus. You don't understand --" and Harry doesn't know why he's insisting that he can't relax himself. That he's showing Louis that this girl means everything to him. 

Louis rolls his eyes. "I do understand. I have a wife and a child, which you endangered once, if you can't remember the gala. And yet here I am. Saving you from a burning car, about to help you get your girl back...Why am I this nice, really?" He chuckles to himself. "The point is, Harry, I want Fray dead. He can't know those codes. I have them, and I don't feel like racing to find their use. I actually am not too fond of competition. And in this case, Fray is my opponent." 

Harry's nostrils flare, and he swallows loudly before rasping, "What do you want with me?" 

"Help me kill Fray, and we'll help you get Catalina back. Your threats are reduced to just her father, who by the way is probably incredibly pissed since you ran off with his daughter," Louis laughs. "I applaud you. She must treat you amazingly well if you're going through so much trouble." 

Ignoring his amusement, Harry asks, "What about the others? The Russians...Diamond?" 

"Those were just idiots branching away from someone else to earn some extra money," Louis assures him. "Fray offered them a one hundred million bribe. Imagine what all these dead-beat, killers could do with that money? Run away, stay away from the shitty life they've made for themselves. It's a good deal." 

Nodding slowly, he mutters, "I will help you only because of Catalina."

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to because you were jolly and ready to help just about anybody," Louis sarcastically spat. "Sorry, sorry...I tend to have a very inconsiderate mode that just happens. Sarcasm is a fluent dialect here."

Yet again, ignoring Louis's idiocy and tendency to get off track, Harry snaps, "Where the fuck am I? How long have I been here? And how did you find me before I burned to death?" 

"We're in Arizona, now. For two days. And, I followed you. I was in Barbados for as long as you were, mate. One of the codes worked, so I figured she gave them all to me. Aren't you glad? If she hadn't, I would've let you burn to Hell."

C A T A L I N A 

I just couldn't stop crying, and the consistently of my tears pissed off the men sitting beside me in a car that drives through the streets of what seems Hollywood to a warehouse that is just a few seconds away. "Jesus fuck, do you ever run out of tears, you little bitch?" A man growls beside me. My sadness and anxiety revolts into this type of anger, which causes me to go head first into the man's face. A loud crack and a groan airs out, and an angry smack is delivered to my left cheek. 

I clench my jaw, thoughts roaming from the physical pain in my cheek to the mental, emotional pain in my mind. Harry...he was shot. He was killed. Harry's...dead. The pain is too much to bear in mind, which only results in more tears rushing down my face. I can't help but think about how much I will miss seeing him. And how I cannot believe how the anxiety and the anger are making my body shake. All out of pain. 

There's a mixture of emotions that I can put places to right now. I'm glad, because it will keep me busy before I lose my mind. Hands grip my arms, pulling me out of the car with offensive terms. The man who's nose I broke walks behind us, calling me a 'little whiny bitch', and I am only urging, itching to kill this man. To physically end his life. The urge is unbelievable. But from my pain, I want to hurt someone around me. And it only seems reasonable in my mind. They're the reason Harry's dead. They killed him. 

"Welcome to your grave, Sweetheart," he leans down to whisper to me, hot breath fanning against my lips. 

A disgusted grimace covers my face, and in seconds I gather enough saliva to spit it at his face. He growls and before he can raise his hands to hit me again, a voice stops him. "Roy! You can't kill her yet. Fray will flip his shit." 

Beady, black eyes glaring into me, he snarls and snaps, "Fine. But I'm killing this bitch myself." 

I feel so much resentment for everything, so much I find myself praying to God, the only one I have left in this situation. The only thing I have left is to pray. My eyes observe the area around me. An empty warehouse, few cars parked here and there. A table with a couple of chairs remains in the middle, men of all ages standing around with their eyes watching my every move. 

Inhaling shakily, I'm harshly dragged to sit into one of the chairs. 

"Hey, Liam! Where's Fray? Tell him we got the girl." 

"He's a minute away," he mumbles. 

"Did you kill Harry?" 

"Yeah. All done," Liam whispers, jaw clenched tightly. 

"Yes, finally. That kid was good. Not good enough, though," the man chuckles. "You hear that, princess?" He leans down again, grinning wickedly. "Your little boyfriend is dead. Deceased. Bye bye. Never to come back. He's not coming to rescue you."

I swallow a painful lump in my throat, averting my eyes away from the disgusting man. A few tears slip from my eyes as he continues to mock me for Harry's death. "Aw, are you cr--" 

"Stop it, Roy!" Liam snaps loudly. "Stop being such a fucking child. Leave her alone. She'll get enough torture from Fray, you know that. You're making yourself look like a complete fool, you git." 

"Git? I don't understand your trashy British slang," Roy laughs lowly, moving away from me and going on to mock Liam. 

Speaking of him, I look up at him. My eyes silently want to burn him alive for killing Harry. Maybe, instead of warning us, he was really trying to lead them to us to make it much easier. I don't know, but I wanted to pin it on someone. Someone had to be responsible for Harry, and I can't bear enough to confess it was maybe me.

I sniffle softly, looking down at my lap. My hair covers over my face, strands flowing to my face. My Harry...he's gone. And I think to myself this exact thing over and over again. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. Bye bye. Never to come back. They repeat in my mind continuously, on repeat. Like a scratched CD, on and on and I can't find the pause button. 

This happens up until the warehouse door is open, and a car pulls up on the concrete floors of the place. I look up, waiting to see who has arrived. But we all know who it is. We all know who's responsible for this. For all of this. For everything that has happened to me these months. 

I hate him for allowing me to fall in love with Harry, for encouraging it with his malicious thoughts. I fell for Harry, unknowingly. He felt right. Everything with him did. Even though he was supposed to be my enemy this entire time, he loved me and he wanted me to always fight to stay alive. Through countless pointless arguments, and even moments where he touched my hair, kissed me, and this obsession he had with sitting me on his lap. Where he trailed his hands up and down my thighs, faint grin on his lips because he never smiles with anyone else, but me. I want to get angry at my mind for replying what his touch feels like, what his love feels like at a moment like this. 

My jaw clenches tightly, nostrils flaring when the door opens to reveal a well dressed man. Red button up, grey suit, and black, shiny shoes. His grey hair is combed slick back, blue eyes observant as he walks with such prestige in his every step. He approaches the table, my uncle Fray, he looks like he couldn't have been more pleased with his distraught, sickening looking niece. 

"Catalina," he smiles, thin lips curved into a disgusting gesture.

I nearly gag, but keep my stolid expression. My eyes never leave his face, and my throat...it refuses to vocalize the hatred I have for him, for the world. 

"Won't speak now, will you? I guess that's understandable. But, we all know what I'm here for. Give me the codes, and we'll be all set. I might even let you go. Or who knows, keep you around for everyone's entertainment," he snarls, and nods to a man who throws at me a piece of paper and a pen.

I don't touch them. I stare at the objects, inhaling deeply before I mumble, "You killed him." 

"What? Speak up, Catalina! I always hated this about you," he sighs angrily. 

The volume I use makes my throat rip in half, I bet. It sure feels like it. "YOU KILLED HIM!" I scream, my voice echoing around the warehouse. "You fucking killed him, and because you did so, I really don't have any motive to give you the fucking codes. He's gone. So, with him, so are the codes." 

He says nothing, his jaw clenches and I can tell he's tense with anger. 

"You can cut off my fingers, one by one, you can cut me, shoot my leg...whatever! I don't care. I swear to you, you will never get the codes from me, or anyone else. Kill me, already." 

"See, I can't do that," he laughs bitterly, slamming his hands down harshly onto the table. But I'm not afraid. I'm immune to it all. "Since your father's dead --" 

My bursts into pieces, but through the stinging tears, I remain completely unfazed. 

"-- And you being the only Gates alive since your mother is probably dead, and Paige...lord, Paige is long gone. Foolish one, wasn't she?" 

I can't feel my head. It feels like I'll pass out, but I force my eyes open. 

"Catalina, you have no one to love. You have no one to love you. Nothing to lose, in fact," he chuckles quietly. "And I find that your determination to keep the codes hidden is because you thought you have a reason to live." 

My hands tremble, and I try my hardest to keep my voice steady when I spit out, "I've stopped listening to what anyone says to me. I don't care if you think I have no reason to live. I might not, but I have something you really want. So...in fact, I do have a reason to live. And that is to keep you from ever finding those codes." 

His nostrils flare, and he blinks his piercing blue eyes hastily. "You'll give me those damn codes, Catalina. Or I will make you feel pain you've never felt before." 

I burst out laughing in hysterics. Because laughing is a great substitute for crying. "What are they even for!? Why do you need them, so much?" 

Fray remarks, "They're necessary. That's all you need to know." 

"I actually don't care. I take those questions back," I laugh again. "You actually think you'll get them from me? This is sort of my revenge, right? Someone else is going to get those codes, and get what you want before you. Trust me, I know who. And you're going to be so mad when they do. But you'll always know you had the answers right before you, and you never got them." 

I feel a powerful strike on my cheek, my lip busted instantly from the contact. My head whips in the direction of the force. I inhale sharply, feeling my head nearly explode from the hit. I run my tongue over my bleeding lip, tasting the blood. 

Regardless of his abuse, I continue. "You sent Harry to destroy my father. You made him a killer. But then I showed up...and he fell in love with me," I laugh loudly, shaking my head. "He loved me, and guess what? God...I loved him. He drove me insane, but we worked out so well together. He dropped everything for me. You, my father, and his whole life for me." 

Fray snickers. "He was a pathetic little boy. Grew up still thinking he could have his own life. And now he's dead." 

"You're a sick bastard. So sick, that you actually believe I'll ever give you the codes." 

"You were made to be just like your father. A Gates. Definitely one of us. Look at you, so determined. Heartless, even. You just lost everything, and you're putting up a fight? You can't call me sick, darling. You're just like us," he seethes. 

Finally snapping, I growl, "I'll never be like you. It hurts so much. Believe me, the pain I'm feeling is so numbing I can't feel anything. Just let's get one thing clear. You'll. Never. Get. Those. Codes." 

Roy snickers and yells, "Let me show her a good time! Maybe loosen her up!" 

Some laugh, others roll their eyes. I cringe and tense at the thought. Fray only smirks. 

H A R R Y 

He can't think straight. In the shower, he falls to his knees and for the first time a sob shakes his body. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is all he can think. The only thing he's ever cared about, the only real happiness emotion he's ever felt, torn to pieces. Absolute shit, and he cannot feel like it himself. Then, he stands again and punches his already injured fist into the glass doors of the shower. They shatter, clatter and abruptly startle him out of his cries. His desperate, anxious cries of immense emotional spirals. 

He can't keep this anger inside of him. He can't picture what they're doing to her because it will only make him become a living flame. So, he steps out of the shower and gets dressed in what Louis's people provided him. White button up, black pants, and black shoes. He huffs to himself. Louis seems to really have an obsession with these two colors. 

He ties his lengthy hair back, staring at himself in the mirror. He can't do it for long. He'll stand there and blame himself and get angry of he does. Opening the door, he comes across a young woman with dark skin, dark hair, and bright hazel eyes. Her curls spiral in different directions, though it suits her well. 

Harry says nothing. The woman is stolid and almost unfazed as well. "I'm Savannah," she firmly states. "I'm assigned to be your partner." 

Immediately, he begins to walk away. "I don't need a partner," he retorts, giving her his back. 

Savannah is not offended. She figured he'd act this way. She's heard a lot about this guy, but she never pegged him for a man that would cry in the shower about his girlfriend being kidnapped. Yeah, she heard him crying. If someone hadn't, they had to be severely hearing impaired. 

"I don't care what you need. I'm simply here to assist you and get your little girlfriend back. She seems to be very important to you," she tells him, "And Louis obviously owes you. So, let's just set our differences aside right now, Styles. You just want that stupid little girl back, we get it." 

Harry turns around abruptly, clenching his jaw and furiously snapping in her face, "If you insult her, I will tear your body in half. Don't you fucking dare talk about her, even. I know everyone thinks I'm fucking fragile now, but you're terribly wrong. I won't think twice." 

"Harsh," she whispers, instantly smirking. "That's hot, Styles. I see why she's really into you."

He stares angrily at her before turning around, ignoring her words. He doesn't care about her, or what her orders were. She's annoying him and he just wants to be alone. 

"I have an order. You have a goal. We can work together if we just work together," she insists. "I'll speak to you later, though. You obviously want to be alone." 

Alone. No, he actually wants Catalina to be there and tell him he didn't make a mistake taking her away from her father. That his selfish wants aren't the reason she's in danger and he's standing in Arizona, maybe thousands of miles away from her. God, he has no hope. Who knows what they're doing to her? She'll crack, his baby, his girl, his woman, his fucking love. Whatever he wanted to call her. They're going to kill her, and how can he just stand there and cry about it? He never does such thing. 

He clenches his jaw, and off to Louis he goes again to make some plans. In a matter of minutes, they all sit around a circular table. Louis explains what he knows, adding here and there one of his terrible comic relaxers. 

"Two hours ago, we caught a location of Fray in Hollywood. He's just around the corner, Harry," Louis assures him with a laugh. "Don't shit your pants just yet. But! we are not here to make fun of Harry for his emotions, it's totally okay to feel things. Are any of you scared? Really, any of you really afraid to go on this mission? This is a genuine question." 

Savannah rolls her eyes, and Harry watches her closely because he agrees with her for the first time today. Louis is irritating. Besides that, one of the men raises their hand. 

"I am," he murmurs. 

Louis stares blankly and then spits out a laugh. "You fucking p u s s y!" He accuses loudly. "Seriously, you're ridiculous! What the fuck? Why are you here, mate? Why?" 

"Louis, just get on with it!" Harry angrily yells. 

"Keep your voice down, you little cunt. I'm not finished here," Louis retorts. "Seriously? Seriously, you're afraid? What are you going to do when one of their girls sexually arouses you and then bam, shoots your hard di--" 

"Louis," Savannah laughs. "Please, mission." 

Odd. Louis is extremely odd. For someone who's actually very sadistic in the head, he's quite humorous. Cruel humor, that's what it is. He sighs and shakes his head, announcing, "Alright. Just don't be afraid. Fear is the most powerful feeling of them all. It's commercialized, perceived as a necessity. We all live in fear. Fear of not being good enough, having enough, learning enough. Fear is the creator of all things." 

"I thought that was God?" The same guy who confessed his fear asked.

"For fuck's sake, you little bastard. How many times are you going to get me mad today?" Louis snaps, and the guy averts his eyes down to his papers. Continuing with the mission, Harry finally feels like they're getting somewhere. 

n. thanks for reading. what are your thoughts? 

on Louis? 

this Savannah girl? or Liam? leave your predictions!