Paper Houses (A Niall Horan Fan Fiction)

Chapter Seventeen

"That's fine," he answered.

Niall leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Everything will be okay, love." He squeezed my hand before letting me go.

I walked toward the house, Paul by my side. I chose him because Brent would not know who he is. If Joel was with me, he'd immediately know where I was living. If Niall or one of the others were with me, he'd figure everything out. I was just scared he would come after them.

The steps were old and uneven. Paint was chipping around the windows and door frame. I don't remember it being like this. Was it always this bad? I rang the doorbell. No answer. I bit my lip, wondering what to do next. He was always home on the weekends, and probably still in bed from staying up too late. I began to beat on the door.

"I know you're in there," I yelled. I pounded on the door until my hand was numb.

"We can come back another day," Paul offered.

"No. I know he's here. I'm getting my shit today whether he likes it or not." I looked up at him, and he shrugged.

The door opened and my stomach was in my throat. I really hadn't prepared on what to say to him yet. I thought I would be able to wing it.

I was wrong.

"Can I help you?" a shrill, bitchy voice said. She was gorgeous with long, blonde hair and tanned skin, but looked annoyed with my antics.

"Umm, yes." My voice was barely above a whisper. I cleared my throat. "I am Brent's ex-girlfriend. I came to get my shit." I yanked the door open and shoved past her.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." That voice dripped sarcastic daggers into my skin. It stopped me dead in my tracks. "Have you come to finally ask for forgiveness again?"

I turned to face him for the first time in three weeks. The man I thought I loved for years was standing in front of me, a blonde bimbo by his side. I thought it was love, but it was a lie instead. Just like Gatsby.

At this point, I was getting mad. I could feel my blood start to boil. I was done with him and everything in my life that contained him. I was tired of being trampled, and this would end. Today.

"No. I'm here to get my stuff back." I crossed my arms in a move of defiance.

He ignored me and turned to Paul. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Annie's security. I suggest you let her get her belongings, or the police will be involved."

"What the actual fuck, Annie!" he bellowed.

I didn't flinch. I was used to it. "I just want my stuff back, and I'll leave."

A hand gripped my shoulder. "We were wondering what was taking so long," Joel said. "It's nice to see you again, Brent," he said. There was an air of condescension in his voice.

Brent charged for Joel. I instinctively moved out of the way, sensing this was going to happen. They were on the ground and Brent was on top of him. Joel managed to reach around and pull his gun from his pocket. He pointed it at Brent's head and let off the safety.

"You will do as I say. Get off me," he grunted. Brent obeyed. "Now let us search the house for her things."

"Most of it is outside in garbage bags."

Of course it would be. It's rained since I left, so my clothes and books might be ruined. I took a deep breath. It will be okay. Even if they are ruined, they are material things. They can be replaced. The people here with me cannot.

Joel stayed by Brent's side on watch while I and everyone else went through the bags to see if it really was mine. We carried all my stuff back to the car. It all fit in the back of the Porsche. My whole life was loaded into that luxury car. The irony was not lost on me.

"Did we get everything?" Niall asked.

"I think so, but I'd still like to make a sweep of the house. You can't trust a word he says. I still need my laptop, but I'm sure he's sold it by now."

"Okay. Even if we don't find it, we can get you a new one."

I bit my lip at his words. I didn't want to be his charity case.

I finally found my laptop in the utility room in a box next to the trash can. Brent was going to throw it away. I picked it up, noticing that it was all but busted. Duct tape covered most of it from where Brent would throw a fit and punch or throw whatever was in front of him.

"Annie, your laptop is a piece of junk. Let me get you a new one."

"Niall, the last time I used it, it worked just fine. There's no need to buy me one."

He shrugged and led me back to the car.