Louis’s POV
The room felt colder as I lay on my bed, my eyes glued to the ceiling. The text was burning through my brain: "Kill Zayn or we do it." I had twenty-four hours.
This is all my fault. I shouldn't have joined the—
"Louis! Louis! Louis, if I come inside, it won't be as simple as waking you up! I am gonna drag you by your fucking brain, face-plant you into the floor, and watch you bleed like crazy!" My brother Jake ranted as he pounded on my door like a madman, dragging me out of my daydream.
"Coming! I'll join you guys—let me freshen up, man," I called back, getting up from the bed.
"You know, I don't care if you fucking freshen up or not. Mom won't let us eat unless you're there, and I can't wait anymore, you rat."
"Okay, but if you could just go—LET ME FUCKING BATHE!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the entire house. I knew Mom would be up here any second.
I went into the bathroom and quickly went through my routine. I stopped in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I looked so dead—and gorgeous.
Don't let them fucking know what's wrong. Keep everything in.
I rushed downstairs before my brother could come back up and knock some sense into me.
"Hmph! Down at last. I thought your stupid self would make me come up and grab you," my father’s voice echoed sarcastically in my ear.
I paid no mind to him as I walked over to my mom. "Good morning, Mom. How was your beauty sleep? Hope you dreamed of me." I smiled, hiding the mess inside.
"Oh, my handsome son. You look too pale—what's wrong? Didn't you sleep well? Thank God there's no school today so you can get all the rest you want."
My mom's voice was soothing, but it couldn't calm the dread inside me.
"Mom, you worry too much. Just some bad dreams and everything. I actually slept like a baby, except for a caveman who came knocking on my door for a banana," I muttered, glaring at Jake.
Jake glared back at me across the table, his mouth full of food. I swear I will murder—
A look from my mom sent him over the edge. "That word is not allowed in my house, understand?" Her voice brimmed with dominance.
Nodding like a frog, he frowned at me and went back to his food.
I sat next to my favorite brother, Bryan—a detective, and the man I admired most. He looked at me and shook his head. I sighed dejectedly. I was still a disappointment in his and Father's eyes because I lacked the high IQ the rest of the family shared. That insecurity was what drove me to dig my own grave by joining the organization in the first place.
I stared at my plate, without a drop of appetite. Catching Mom staring, I forced a smile and began picking at the food. I couldn't taste a thing—maybe my nerves were numbing my senses.
After breakfast, everyone went about their usual routines, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I raced back to my room and threw up everything in my stomach. I'd been doing that a lot since I joined them.
With shaky hands, I picked up my phone and stared at the message again. Kill Zayn. My childhood friend... and the guy I had a secret crush on.
I had twenty-four hours, or they would kill him themselves. I paced around the room, trying to think. But whenever I get nervous, my brain shuts down. I can't think. What should I do?
I lay on my bed and wrapped myself in the blankets, pretending this was just a bad dream. But dreams don't last this long. I pulled out my phone and messaged them. I will do this myself. I'd rather make him hate me than live in a world without him.
From Louis: Zayn, Zayn, are you there?
From Zayn: Hello buddy, missing me?
From Louis: Can you come to my house by 8 PM?
From Zayn: Okay. What's wrong? Are you okay?
From Louis: Yes, I am. Just missing you.
From Zayn: That's gay, you know. Don't worry, I'll be there.
I locked my phone and started pacing again. What if I called Bryan? Would he help me? I remembered the look on his face. Oh no. I shook my head. Bad idea.
The clock kept ticking, time moving far too fast. Why are they doing this to me?
Silence hung in the air as I waited for him. The door creaked softly, and Zayn poked his head inside.
"Should I still knock, or can I invite myself in?" he asked, striding quietly toward my bed. "You look pale. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, you fool. Just brooding over something I saw on the internet," I lied, waving my hand and putting on a fake smile.
He sighed. "Thank God. I thought you were sick or leaving."
My heart skipped a beat. Does he know I want to escape? No, he couldn't.
"So, I have something I want to give you. Let's call it a surprise."
He looked at me suspiciously. "Okay, I admit it—what's wrong with you?"
"What?" I asked, trying to hide my trembling hands. "There's nothing wrong. Can't I just call my friend over and give him something?"
"Everything is wrong. You've never given me a gift before. Is this a parting gift?" he asked, still staring at me.
I shoved his shoulder playfully, and he winced. "I told you I'm not going anywhere. Now let's go get your gift, princess. But I have to blindfold you first."
He giggled. "Stop being kinky with me."
I shook my head, bile rising to my throat, but I swallowed it back down. "Do you trust me?" I asked as I tied the blindfold over his eyes.
"With my life," he answered immediately.
My heart clenched as I led him to the edge of the stairs.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"What are you—"
I didn't let him finish before I pushed him.
