CHAPTER 3: The Brutal Beating On Styles - 2

Without a second thought, I run and throw myself to the ground to help Styles.

His thin body is so battered, I fear they've gone too far and god... his face is a chrome.

His knee is at an unnatural angle, and I know that several bones have been broken.

fear washes over me, making my legs go weak.

I crouch down beside him, trying not to hurt him.

He makes a little effort to give me a weak smile and squeezes my hand, while I cry and ruffle his hair, not knowing what else to do.

Shh, everything is going to be okay.

I'm here; I won't let them touch you again — I whisper after kissing his forehead with infinite tenderness.

Then a tear slips from his left eye, and it hits me.

I had only seen my brother cry once before, and that was when our mother died.

That gesture speaks for itself.

I want to hug him and never let him go again, I want to be able to turn back time and fix so many things I've done wrong...

I shouldn't have let him leave here, he can't take care of himself.

Let me help you stand him up.

It's the vice president, the blond guy whom I had initially found so attractive.

I tense at his words, and he noticing this, raises his hands to show me he's not going to hurt him.

I look around, still suspicious, to see - not without relief - that the rest of them are still holding Hunter, who has his predatory gaze fixed on Styles.

Hey, you can't do it alone.

He's at risk of bleeding to death, the sooner he tells us.

so that I can take care of him — said the dark-haired boy from before.

Without knowing why, he inspires a little confidence in me, so I allow them to lift me.

Be careful, please — I beg you.

They place him on the rickety couch; I don't give a damn that the house is a mess; I just want him to be okay.

I want you to control yourself, the red-haired giant who has been holding me back warns Hunter.

I don't know his name...for some stupid reason, I'm curious.

I tell myself that it's because I'm so angry at him that he hasn't let me help Styles but I hate that guy Hunter even more for the brutal beating he gave him.

Whatever you say, Fiend. he snaps, through gritted teeth.

I'm your fucking prez! he roars, fuming.

For my part, I have already taken the information.

Fiend? The nickname fits him like a glove.

That's right, Fiend.

They all are, they don't care about the harm they cause to others.

They fix everything by force, and they are dangerous criminals, all kinds of rumors about them circulating in Washington

I don't know what the hell my brother was into, to think he could mess with them and get away with it.

Hunter doesn't reply, but the tension in his body is more than evident.

However, he stops struggling, and they release him.

I stand in front of Styles right away; he'll have to get over me to hurt him.

"He's got them well placed," jokes a tall guy with a mohawk and tattoos all over his body.

His tone is friendly, and his gaze doesn't give me the creeps, but I still don't trust him.

I need to take him to the hospital — I plead, not quite sure.

We'll leave right away.

When he gives us back what he stole from us, the blond man with the Viking beard says, his eyebrows raised.

Then Fiend crouches down next to my brother, and my protective instincts kick in, but before I can jump at his neck, that Parry guy grabs me.

I wouldn't do it.

I squirm, annoyed, even though Fiend doesn't hurt him.

I don't trust them.

Where is it Styles?

Calling him by his name gives me the creeps, he sounds so ruthless and capable of anything.

My brother's jaw is swollen, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He coughs several times before he can speak, hunter's savage blows have knocked out one tooth and two molars.

The other guy... who was with me... has another coughing, and I hold him, on alert.

My adrenaline is pumping, and my pulse is on the verge of tachycardia, he took him from me... at gunpoint...

Hunter roars and slams his fists into the wall again and again.

I start to shake, but the others just let him vent.

Your name, fiend, interrupts him with a coldness that scares me more than the unleashed anger of his sergeant-at-arms.

He didn't tell me... I just know that they nicknamed him... the nutcase — he stammers, with difficulty.

Do you think we're fools? — The Viking growls, his eyes furious.

Zack, Hector, the kindest one, scolds him.

Suck my cock, Hector, it's my fucking responsibility as treasurer — he shoots back, furious.

The person in question, on the other hand, remains calm.

I'm just saying that you're not helping, bro.

Whenever I want your fucking opinion, I'll ask for it!

Fiend's stone face is deadly, and they both fall silent.

Hector, checks the police database, he orders.

He immediately gets to work on his cell phone.

The money wasn't there, and we've checked everything... I think he's telling the truth — the long-haired blonde explains calmly.

I'm with Dereck, Parry agrees.

I'm sorry, fiend— my brother manages to say.

He looks so vulnerable that it breaks my heart...

The giant next to me, on the other hand, does not seem to be moved by his words.

You think that will fix everything?

You can steal from my club, apologize, and then get away with it? He snaps, deadly.

My brother's body shakes from the tremors, and I bare my teeth at him like a furious lioness, covering him with my body.