Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 48

All four of us were momentarily frozen, our feet glued to the concrete and mouths sewn shut. My vision was getting fuzzy as tears were building up and I felt like I was in a nightmare, but I could see Mckenzie and Louis staring at me with apologetic expressions all too clearly to know I wasn't dreaming this. I still hadn't even looked at Harry, I'd probably break down over whatever expression he wore if I did.

"Is this a joke? B-because it's not funny..." I finally said, my voice wavering. I knew it wasn't a joke, but it's like I was inwardly praying that it would be because the thought of it all being real made me feel nauseous.

"It's not a joke," Louis responded softly. I wanted to hate him for telling me, but the reality was that he stitched his best friend up to keep him from lying to and making a fool out of me, so I should be grateful. Don't shoot the messenger and all that.

"What did he say?" I asked coldly, trying to mask how upset I was with mostly fabricated anger. I was talking about Harry as if he wasn't standing two feet behind me, not actually willing to accept that he was. "I want to know everything."

Louis' eyes lifted from mine, probably to look at Harry with uncertainty. "Jess, I don't think—"

"No," I stopped him abruptly. "He said it, so he should have no problem hearing it repeated."

I was dying to get a glimpse of how uncomfortable he might look stood behind me, see him squirm, but I didn't dare turn around in case I didn't see what I thought I would, or worse, it made me feel sorry for him. What if he didn't even care? What if he was reacting totally coolly and wasn't even fazed by what he'd done?

"He said... that you wouldn't stop texting him, and was going on about how annoying and whiny you are. He was talking about you like some kind of conquest — which made me sick — and saying that he only hangs around with you out of pity because you're 'so obsessed with him'. It's not the first time, either..."

"That's not true," Harry's low voice came from behind me, sending a shudder through my body. I was furious, but the feeling of hurt was overwhelming, completely taking over any other emotion trying to surface and becoming harder to hold back. A tear fell from the corner of my eye when I blinked, and I furiously wiped it away.

All it took was one blink for Louis to suddenly become livid, raising his voice and shouting back at Harry defensively. "Why fuçking lie about it now mate! Every single person around that table heard you gloating about how you'd snatched her up with your mind set on only one thing! It's alright you telling these bāstards about how satisfying it was to be the first guy to make her scream, but I bet you wouldn't tell them all the sappy shít you cry about to me!"

Harry took a breath so deep and wheezy that my stomach knotted and I was sure I would throw up any moment now. I'd never felt this betrayed by someone, and I was almost angry with myself for believing he wouldn't ever hurt me. Who was I trying to kid? This was Harry I was talking about — the troubled nineteen year old criminal I met at his court trial who pushed his way into my life and convinced me I needed him over everyone else. My bottom lip wobbled as another tear fell and rolled straight down my cheek as I gradually span around to face him at last.

My watery eyes met his, the pale green looking misty and the whites pink from all the smoking. The only word I could use to describe what I saw from him was guilt. He looked so guilty and embarrassed to have been caught out, but I couldn't read whether it was because he regretted saying it or regretted having been caught. We've all been in that position; maybe it was that you'd passed on a rumour about someone and they'd found out, or you'd done something you weren't supposed to do and got in trouble — that helpless feeling of shame and humiliation of knowing you'd been found out becoming present in your gut, but Harry looked like he was feeling that worse than I ever have.