038

I wiped my hands on the fabric of my dress, a nervous habit. I swallowed down what was left of caution and elegantly followed the flawless strides that belonged to Harry and Zayn. We barely made any signal as with a nudge of his chin up, Zayn split away from us. He tugged at his black blazer and straightened out, slipping into the crowd of chatting people.

The bold movement of Harry's confident footsteps kept me struggling to keep up. Our arrival was perfectly unnoticed. I felt courageous and I slipped my fingers in between his, warming my anxious body when he squeezed my hand, and though his stern face never softened, I knew he meant to.

He led me behind a velvet red curtain that hung from the vast height of the ceiling. It shadowed the areas away from the suspicious, wandering eyes of the men or women in that room. I found his eyes watching around us, searching for cameras or evidence of any kind like he had done just before we entered.

His pale green eyes focused on me once again. "Listen," he murmured, "We have exactly twenty minutes for this all to fall into place. I have an idea -- considerably good one. Anything considered a bleaching agent, rolls and rolls of aluminum foil, and a litre of vinegar. Water, too. Should almost be like fumes and if heated, highly flammable." 

"A heated acid bomb?" I whispered. 

"That's exactly what it is, baby. Easiest one to make, too. Causes enough distraction we need," Harry says lowly.

I nodded. "Okay. I like it." 

"I love it when we're on the same page," he huskily told me, corner of his lips turned up the slightest bit in a smirk. "And I also...love this dress." 

My lips curved and I gently kissed his lips. Into them, I murmured, "Thank you, maybe we can share it." 

He growled and pinched my ass. I forgot, momentarily, about our situation, and chuckled. My hand slapped his away from my ass, and it resulted to us getting back on task. This is what Zayn was talking about. We seem to be getting off track all the time, but it's not like I minded it very much. I should for our safety.

We made our way through the crowd, and he never stood less than ten feet away from me. I leaned against a table, trying to spot different used bottles of water people were leaving behind. We would need those, and many of them if we were planning to get the whole place in flammable fumes.

I spotted one and took it, tipping the cap open as if I were to use it. I hadn't noticed my hands were so shaky until I held the bottle up, examining the label.

"That's quite unhygienic," a voice said to me. It was playful, yet dark in an odd way. I've heard it before. I have, and I know it. "You know...picking up a random water bottle --- tempted to drink from it? Don't know who's lips were on those before yours."

Playful, playful, playful...

My eyes snapped up to make eye contact with beautiful, ocean blue ones. His smile was maddening, because it was so prestigious in its highly attractive way. His cheekbones were structured fairly well, actually flawless. 

I had to stop shaking. I swallowed and said nothing. He watched me, reaching out towards me. I stiffened, not to a very noticeable extent. He grabbed the water bottle from my hands, brushing his skin against mine, and he tipped the cap open and sipped it. A very visible smirk on his lips. 

"I think you're very pretty. Even though much of your profile is hidden, your lips and the shape of your face...physically alluring," he spoke, and the more I heard that voice, the more it began to tick me off because I just couldn't put it together.

I never dared to look away from him, because I knew that the way he was observing me, he would notice, and he would know there's something I find intimidating about him. And besides that he is as cruelly clever as a mental patient's wit, there was surprisingly nothing. 

People may recognize me by my voice, so I still hadn't spoken. He was observing too much for my liking, and I'm afraid, he could tell. 

"I suppose you know Mr. Grogan," he chatted off, and to my relief he stood beside me. I still felt his gaze, even out of the corner of his eye. "Pardon, who doesn't? Perhaps this man is here to kill us all. Or even more barbaric...watch as we kill each other." 

"Why we're here is a mystery," he continued. "He's probably waiting. Not for a little while." 

"Aw, Harry, I know you're only protecting her! We just want to borrow the girl!"

"We promise we won't touch her! Not for a little while!"

My throat clogged. Beside me was standing a man who was going out of his way to find me. The Blackpool Confederacy. Doncaster, England. The same guy who was in that small store. The one that took place in the murder of an old man. An innocent old man. 

I clenched my jaw and saw Harry standing only four feet away from me. He had moved closer, pretending to be interested in the food. But he hasn't particularly watched us, and because he knows already who is standing right next to me. He's on edge, though. I can just feel the tension release fumes in our air. 

"I get this odd vibe that you don't trust me. And I don't blame you. At least eighty of us have a gun aimed at another eighty, and the same eighty men are aiming their guns at them. Vise versa. I'd kill to comprehend the mastermind of Grogan. He is a genius. It is purely for his entertainment. It must be," he laughed, amused by the fact that there was so much threat around us.

He was an adrenaline junkie.

The man finally turned to me. He smiled and said, "Before I go...I'm Louis Tomlinson. My real name. Because I trust that if I'm shot in the head tonight, or you per say, I'll be the last name you remember on this lovely evening."

With that, he walked away. 

I exhaled. He introduced himself, certain that no other man will give away his identity. My hands were shaking. Of course, I am scared. Terrified, and I've managed fine until I was sharing an ozone with one of the men who tried to kill just to find me. Killed an innocent old man for God's sake.

"Cata," a husky voice said to me. Nevermore has his voice been so reassuring. I looked at him, and his green eyes through the mask made me certain he was on edge, he was ready to pull a head off someone's body. 

My eyes started to burn with obvious tears and he sighed. "No, not here," he warned and I scrunched up my nose, trying to stop the thoughts. "Baby girl," he whispered, hand grasping mine. We were standing behind the table, just enough to conceal our hand holding. He rubbed soothing circles into my palm with his thumb, a sort of affection foreign to see on Harry.

"Whatever he told you, it is not going to happen tonight," he sternly assured me.

Inhaling shakily, my voice was as high and shaky as a scared little girl, which I despised, but I was not going to cry. Not now. We only have about ten minutes to make the mixtures. We had to rush now because that just happened. 

"He, he --" 

"Shh, I know," he whispered. "He only said those things because he's enjoying the tension, he likes the discomfort of others around him. You know this, and I can tell you were thinking it. You're smarter than this, baby. What he said....complete and utter shit. Understood?"

I nodded, breathing in slowly. Harry continued to reassure me. "This is how every man in here works. And so do the women. They live for the lack of limits, and you need to stop thinking about it. As clever as they are, they are so easy to comprehend. He was just putting a scare into you." 

"Why me out of everyone in this room?" I questioned him softly. 

"I'm going to take a guess, and say, he finds you interesting. Not saying he knows your identity, but because you made it obvious to him that you're on edge. He's fairly good at guessing," Harry told me. 

"So are you," I replied. 

He squeezed my hand. "I know. But we only have so much time before time is off. We came here for one thing, and you wanted to come, so I want you to drop the terrified little attitude and show me you are just as strong as you are sexy in that dress." 

Eight bottles of water, used and all collected under five minutes. Harry was fast and swift, and I was slow and cautious, but we did it. He put detail into the amounts of water. I stood by myself for just sixty seconds so it seemed he had excused himself to the bathroom, and I would later do the same.

A gallon of a cleaning agent in the back of a supply closet at the very rear of the rooms, velvet curtain shielding us away. I noticed the lack of cameras, the lack of security back here. The man was just hoping something was going to happen, but at the same time he knew nothing was.

Aluminum. Two rolls of it. I bent down and started crumbling them up into small balls. As small as they should be to fit in through the top of the water bottles. Behind me, Harry was pouring the mixture together. 

Vinegar. Bottles of it found the pantry of an unoccupied kitchen. I remember Zayn said there were two kitchens. One that had no access to gas or electricity to power stoves, and one that was most likely in use for the night.

Eight bottles filled with cleaning agent, water, and vinegar. All I had to do was place six to nine little balls of aluminum in the bottles, shake it, and wait for the reaction. 

He knelt beside me, and said, "Alright. We've got to wait until we put the aluminum in. If we do it now, and walk out there, they would go off in our hands. I have pockets so I'll do it, what I need you to do is to --" 

"Welcome to my gathering, comrades, business partners," we heard a voice boom from the very front where the gala was taking place.

I looked at Harry. "Grogan?" 

He nodded. "It couldn't be more perfect. He's getting everyone's attention away from us. Now, let's go."

I didn't pay much attention to him after that when we walked out from the velvet curtains. It was mostly Grogan making a speech about his business and how much he owes the men in the room his business' success. I am in a room filled with men who want to kill each other to find me, and they have no clue I am present.

My eyes scanned the room, looking for Harry. It seemed that everyone was listening to the man in front of us. I found Zayn, closer to Mr. Grogan than you'd think he could be, but he managed to stand aside. He crossed his arms, soaking in every word. Or at least looking like he was. 

And it was then, the the bullet aired through. The sound boomed around us before it made direct contact with Mr. Grogan's head. It punctured his skull, his brain, and down like leaf, he fell. 

There was silence. Until guns were loaded and clicked and everyone was aiming at anyone. I held my breath, and immediately Harry was at my side, pulling out his gun. I hadn't noticed in the shock of it all, that a man aimed at me, which Harry had spotted right away. 

And the man was Louis Tomlinson, himself. 

"Ajax Corridor, Blackpool Confederacy, just shot Mr. Grogan in the head. And I, Louis Tomlinson of the same organization, am about to shoot Harry Styles, Gates Co. and the most wanted man, in the bloody face," he chuckled, shaking his head. 

I panicked, and looked up at Harry. His jaw was clenched. He was not backing down from fear. His grip on his gun tightened, and like a second in time, my body paled at realizing he knew who I was. 

Another gun clicked, and Louis turned his head just in time to see Zayn, his own weapon aimed at the blue-eyed psycho. 

"Too bad we were three steps ahead," Louis continued to laugh, not at al fazed two guns were aiming at him. No, make that three. I boldly reached for the gun beneath my dress. I took it out, and seemed to surprise Louis. His eyebrows raised, and he reached up to remove his mask. 

He grinned. "Wow, you are beautiful and certainly bold...Catalina Gates." 

Zayn's nostrils flared and I knew he was ready to blow someone's head off, most likely Louis's. But he had refrained, something along the lines of thinking twice had stopped him. 

"Cut the shit," Zayn barked. "Why'd you have people kill Grogan?" 

Louis snickered. "I am in no need of explaining myself, but because I find this very entertaining, I will. I've been studying the same picture of Catalina for months now. You think a simple mask would conceal her identity from me? Pathetic." He laughed. "The point is, however, I was waiting until this moment." 

"So was I, Tomlinson," Harry stated through a clenched jaw. "I took the liberation of looking through your files and telling your wife that you're not dead hours ago. And in a few moments, she'll show up. So I suggest you spit it out." 

He was livid, but he hid it with a loud laugh. "You contacted my wife!? What is she going to do?" 

"She's about to bring your son of three months into a room filled with savages who want you and any part of you dead," Harry explained emotionlessly. 

That's when it all went south. I inhaled sharply at his words. That was awful. Absolutely terrifying. A three months old baby...

Louis hadn't said anything. Zayn was next to speak. "And while he was doing that, Liam here has been following your tracks." 

A man came out from the crowd, removed his mask, and added to the number of guns aimed at Louis. It was surely, Liam Payne. 

I should be highly confused, and I am. I'm looking around for answers, but I can't find none. Except that they hid this from me, and they never told me they had a plan B. 

"And while I followed your tracks, I found out why you in particular waited so long. So tell us, why this very moment if you knew this entire time where she was hidden?" Liam questioned darkly, eyes narrowed. 

The blue-eyed man was attacked, but still showed no sign of faltering of his stance. He opened his mouth and said, "I know a lot, but it seems I don't know enough." Every person in that building was listening. "Grogan knew information you would need, and I swore, if you found out and got to him, you'll know why everyone wants Catalina Gates."

"But it's not why I waited so long. Grogan was just a bonus. I waited three months and a day for this moment. Why? Because even if she didn't know it, Catalina is in my favor. You have no idea, darling," he looked at me with the most serious facial expression he's had all night, "But you know something you don't exactly remember, that is key to me and every man in this god damn building." 

"Why'd you wait so long?" Harry barked angrily. 

Louis just laughed, eyes darting to him. "Oh, Harry. You'll love hearing this one. Catalina is everything you want, maybe the only thing you want. She's the reason you can't think straight anymore."

"The shortest amount of time it takes a human to fall in love physically is .34 seconds at eye contact. For them to get attached, fifteen days. For a man like you or like any of us, at least thirty. And I waited until you were so busy with her, that I could pull off something like this." Louis explained to us. 

He suddenly exclaims, "Wait!? Where is the applaud?! Louis Tomlinson just pulled off the grandest shit ever! And the crowd goes wild! Ah! Ah! --- ," he pretends to be a crowd. "It's all science, Harry and Catalina. All science. But when I kill you, and every man in here starts shooting up a storm for that girl right beside you, you'll never reach the stage in which you actually fall in love." 

Fucking psychotic bastard. 

A bullet when off, and I didn't know who it hit first.

note: 

D: 

i absolutely love this Louis. i'm sure in real life he's adorable and a sassy lil thang, but woah i love writing a change in louis's part. 

#boss