Chapter Twenty-Three.

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---Taylor---



"Have you heard from Ali yet?" I look up from the comforter to see a naked Harry pulling a towel from to counter. His hair swooshes from one side to the other. A towel in soon wrapped around his bottom half, although leaving his v-line in perfect view. His toned stomach sends shivers down my spine, he's definitely been working out. Just thinking about what he could now, quickly takes my imagination to another planet. "Taylor!" Harry laughs and I dismiss myself from Lala land. He rolls his eyes and repeats himself, "I said, have you heard from Ali yet?"

"Yeah, actually. About an hour or so ago. She was trying to say that today wouldn't be good but I didn't take that as an answer. She stopped replying, I'm thinking maybe her phone died." I shrug sitting up on the bed as Harry joins me. "I want to go though, no matter what. I need to talk to her. Even if it's for ten minutes. I just need my problems to be resolved. I need reassurance."

"Well... Until then..." Harry leans in and over laps my lips with his. His fingers run from my hand to the back of my neck. His lips still feel moist and cool from the shower. I push my fingertips into his hips. Slowly, I'm lowered on to my back and our kisses get more aggressive. Although, everyone is still filled with love and passion. His hands run down my body and the sense of his touch is natural. I love the feeling, even through clothing. Harry's fingertips sneak under my t-shirt, growing ground. We continue to kiss, and I moan against his lips. The vibration going through the both of us. He starts groping my breast and i squeal in pain, stoping all further action. The look on his face is indescribable. His eyes wide and worried. It's adorable actually. His lips falling in the corners. "Is this bad, do you need a hospital? Does this mean labour?!" He jumps from the bed, running to the closet, grabbing clothes from bangers and shouting a Handful of swears. He turns around with a bag overflowing with clothes and when he realizes I'm not moving he rushes to me. His eyes narrowed. "Come on! Let's go!"

I laugh, pushing him off of me with a smile. "It's just my breasts. They're stiff and tender," I shrug, "it comes with being pregnant. I should've warned you."

"Oh thank god." He takes a deep breath, falling to my side and I laugh. For the first time, I see something different in Harry. "I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to you, or the baby." They way he looks at me, it's different. It's not rough and tough Harry. This is sentimental Harry. The protective Harry. The vulnerable Harry that only I get to see. This feels different, but a good different. And even in the past twenty seconds he seems more mature than he ever has. Maybe he was ready for a baby and it was just me all along.

We both go along with our day and get ready, kisses here and there, every chance we can. He's wearing his lucky ripped up jeans and the infamous 'boots'. I've got his old air plane necklace matched with some leggings and dress to my knees. By the time we leave the house, it's nearing two in the afternoon. Ali was usually home by now after her morning workout, and Rob wouldn't get home til after dinner. It seemed like the perfect time to slip in a visit and see what was really going on.

I drive through the dusty back roads until we've reached the beautiful estates just about ten minutes from Nashville. As we drive up the path, lights come into view. Blue and red alternating as fast as the other leaves. I look over at Harry, whose squinting up ahead. "Is that the Robinson's?"

I shake my head and my heart nearly stops as we ride closer to the flashing lights. We pass the Robinson's, then the Tomas', the Harts... And as each we drive by each house, my heart grows heavy. A fire truck passes us, heading the other way. Sure enough, we roll up to the driveway of The Jaymes'. The name proudly printed on the mail box. A police officer sits in the driveway, a few more around the street. I pull off the gas and turn off the vehicle, my mouth gaping open. Harry tries to comfort me by running his hand down my shoulder, but I just don't know how to react. I have no idea what happened. Everything looks fine, everything seems fine.

A knock at my window startles me, but I unbuckle myself and hop out. "Do you live here?" The bald police man asks, a weary look on his face.

I shake my head, "no, but my best friend does. Her name is Ali." I feel Harry join me, his arm latches to my waist in attempt to pull me close. "What happened?"

"We don't know for sure," he says, trying to be professional as any. "All we know if that the neighbour, Mrs Hart, was going to bring some baking with her daughter about an hour ago and Mr. Jaymes car sped off. They didn't think much of it, but when they got to the house, the door was unlocked and open. Mrs. Jaymes was lying unconscious on the floor of the kitchen, pretty beat up too. Mr. Jaymes is no where to be found. We assume they had a fight and it just got a little out of hand."

I loose energy as the words come like bullets. If it wasn't for Harry's support I might have fell to the ground. I can't form words and even in the middle of winter, I feel sweat bead down my forehead. Harry understands what I'm trying to say and fulfils my words. "Is she okay? Where is she?"

"She was sent to Central Nashville hospital. Left about a half hour ago, maybe a little more. She was in and out of pulse."

I rip from Harry's hands and pull open the door to the SUV ready to find Ali and follow her through whatever she's going through. Harry stops me and I feel the vision of the police office lift. "You're not driving," he says, "you're not okay. I'll drive, get In the passenger seat."

I nod, still speechless and change our seats. Harry starts speeding back down the path where we had just came from and back on to the highway. I can't think straight and my breaths become short. How bad was it? How 'beat up' was she. I feel empty and hurt and just as thrown around. It feels like forever until we're at the hospital and I'm running in, Harry trying to catch up with me. I haven't moved that fast since the tour, I don't think any pregnant woman has ran that fast.

"Ali Jaymes. I'm here to see Alison Jaymes. She was brought in an ambulance." I say, out of breath, my voice weak.

"She's not seeing visitors." The receptionist says without even looking up at me. Her eyes glued to the screen in front of her as her fingers type away.

I'm out of breath and my head falls to my hands on the counter. Harry steps in, once again, being my hero just like always. "We need to see her. Now." He depends and she looks up for less than five seconds to only look back at the screen.

"I said, she's not seeing visitors. I do t have time for this." She shakes her head, "Louise, will you please deal with these two? Get them settled in a waiting room?" The bitch of a nurse stands, leaving with folders in her hand.

"Who did you say you were looking for?" Louise smiles presently and we walk towards her.

"Her name is Alison Jaymes. She was brought in my an ambulance." Harry continues, "we need to see her."

"I'm the closest she has to family in Nashville. She's my best friend. She's like my sister. Please." I beg.

She rolls her chair back, peaking down the hallway, "I can take you to her doctor, but that all I have in my control. I don't know much about the case, only what's in the notes. Follow me."

I look at Harry, shrugging and pushing him, then grasping to his arm. I hate hospitals, more than anything. They're so, draining and grey and lifeless. They make me feel deconstructed and lost. We get passed on to another nurse, who takes us to another girl. And before I know it, I've lost my sense of direction. "Do you know when we will be able to see Ali?" Harry asks this nurse, we must be on number three or four by now.

"Oh, right now! Her rooms right here!" She smiles pushing forward the door and walking in. "Mrs. Jaymes, you have visitors." The older nurse announces.

We step in and stumble once again, gasping but trying to not let it show. Ali's puffy eyes slowly open. She's got dried blood under her nose, a black eye and the other is bruising. Her left arm is in a sling and she's got cuts all along her face. She's completely discoloured. Her one foot is suspended against bandages and ice. She goes to move her arm, then winces. "Who is it?" She horsely replies and I hold back tears. She wasn't just a little beat up. She was a disjointed mess. Only something you see from the movies. This wasn't just some disagreement or fight. A disagreement ends up in slamming the tv remote against the counter. A fight causing a plate to smash. This had nothing to do with a remote or plate or any dishes. This was abuse. Time stops and I can't even contain myself.

How didn't I see this? The unexplained bruises. The cell phone fights. The constant rescheduling. What had I done. I could've stopped this. I could've prevented this and kept her safe. How Rob could do such a thing makes my stomach turn. What if I had of placed Ellie in their home. What would he have done to her?

"Excuse me." I say as I fumble out of the room, tears spilling like a tsunami.

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