On the Run

Niall sighed against his pillow, as a fan blew over head. It was far too hot in the damn room and he just wanted to escape, but he had nowhere to go. It wasn’t like the motel where they could casually walk around and look inconspicuous. They were at someone’s house, in Mexico at that. Niall knew nothing about the area, whether or not it was safe, or even where he could go.

He wasn’t like the other guys that had escaped. He wasn’t as strong or as brave as them, and he knew that. He was a simply card counter, not a defender, and that was why he knew it was better to stay away from Gianna.

He wanted to see her because there was just something about her that he couldn’t get out of his head, but he knew she was better off with someone like Harry or Liam, because at least the two of them could protect her.

Even though she was Enzo’s daughter and it wasn’t likely that he would hurt his baby girl, Niall didn’t know what could happen if the Viche found him, and he knew that whatever it was, he wouldn’t be able to protect her from it.

“Niall?”

Her voice immediately soothed his racing thoughts, even though she was thinking about, and he didn’t have to look up to know it was her.

Pulling his face from his pillow, Niall turned over and smiled up at the beautiful brunette, who was peeking sheepishly through his doorway.

“Come in,” Niall said, as he waved his arm. A smile fell to her face and she quickly stepped through the doorframe and to the center of the room. She stood in front of him, with her arms folded behind her back and rolling on her heels.

“You can sit down,” Niall continued, and patted the foot of his bed. She quickly obliged and sat across from him. Her long, smooth hair fell into her face, and she tucked it behind her ear before looking up at him.

“How are you doing?” she asked, her sweet voice like music to his ears.

He wanted to answer honestly and tell he was doing terribly. He wanted to tell her how badly he wanted to keep running and forget everything ever happened. He wanted to tell her that he just wished he could be somebody – anybody – else.

But even though Niall didn’t have the muscle or the brawn to protect her from danger, he had the strength to protect her from what he was really feeling. He knew that if he could pretend that he was doing alright, then maybe she could too, and all he wanted was for her to feel alright.

“I’m holding up nicely. Mexico’s not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”

Gianna chuckled, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Her gaze fell to the floor, and she began playing with the hem of her denim shorts.

“How are you doing?” Niall asked, noticing the far off look in her eyes. She wasn’t doing well; it didn’t take a genius to see that. Niall still asked, though, because he hoped he would tell her everything so he could do his best to make her feel better.

“I’m doing well,” she said. She nodded her head, but wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Niall knew that she was lying.

He reached his hand out to hers and the moment their skin touched, she looked up at him, and he could see the sadness in her eyes. He rubbed his thumb gently against her skin, and with every pass of it, he saw her breakdown just a little bit more.

“You can tell me the truth, Gianna,” Niall said, his voice soft and soothing. “You can tell me anything.”

Gianna let out a sigh, and it was obvious there were a thousand thoughts running through her head.

“I’m scared,” she said simply. She said nothing, just looked into his eyes, and Niall couldn’t help but try to comfort her.

“You know your father would never let anyone hurt you, right?”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” she whispered. Her head dipped back to the floor, and she refused to meet his gaze again.

Niall pressed his thumb to her chin, lifting her head up, so she had no choice but to look at him. He wanted her to tell him everything. He wanted her to feel comfortable with him. He just wanted to make Gianna feel safe.

“What are you afraid of?”

Tears rimmed Gianna’s eyes, and before Niall knew what was happening, her head was pressed against his chest, as sobs racked her body. Her tear stained cheeks warmed his skin, even through his thin shirt. He was quick to move his hand to her hair, running his fingers through it in his attempt to comfort her.

“What is it, Gianna? You can tell me.”

With her head still pressed against him, Gianna spoke again. Her voice was soft and shaking, and Niall could barely make out her words, but when he did, he felt a sinking feeling deep in chest.

“I’m afraid that my father’s going to hurt you.”