LIVVY'S POV
"You don't have to go in with me, it's fine if you need to work," I say loud enough so Zayn can hear me from downstairs.
I don't know if he heard though, but I just kept getting ready to leave as soon as possible.
I still don't know what to do about uncle Sam, I'm hoping the police will say something that will show me the light. That probably won't happen, but I still have to go.
Zayn, as he does, offered to take me to the police station, and although I'll convince him I don't need him there, it'd be ideal. He knows the detective on the case and just for support, it'd be great.
Once I finish painting my lips I stare down at the pencil I've used, it's darker than any colours I've ever used, but it looks so nice. Lottie said it'd suit me. Oh God, Lottie, I wonder what's going on with her? She's been so ...not there, I feel like I don't want to hear about her but on the other hand I need to know she's okay.
I throw the pencil into the bag I'll be wearing and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I think I'm looking quite good today, and that's not a thought I usually have. Am I being positive enough to have a good day? Does it even work like that?
I dig into my bag and fish my work phone out. After checking Pep's schedule for today I text him the details of his first meeting and the time I'll hopefully be at his office by.
Nothing's going to happen if I'm not there by the time I said, but if not it'll be more difficult to organise today's day from the police station.
"Did you say something?" Zayn's voice distracts me from my thoughts.
I throw the phone back into the bag and turn towards the door.
"What time are you going in to work?" I ask him, watching him tuck his shirt into his trousers.
He finishes doing his belt and walks up to me, to stare at the mirror, he's concentrating on his black shirt.
"Why?" He mumbles.
"I don't want to keep you busy if you have to be in the office or something," I explain pushing a strand out of my face.
I would have worn tracksuits if I didn't have to go into work. Didn't feel like skirts though, so I'm in a high waisted pair of black trousers and a white fitted blouse. Nothing special, but nothing cheapy either.
My high black heels make me stand almost as high as Zayn. Although now that I'm comparing us both in the mirror, they don't. I'm still shorter than him.
I turn to watch him and he eyes me strange, but ignores it.
"We'll go and sort it and then I'll go to work, no rush," he shrugs.
I definitely feel as tall as him in these.
"Thank you," I grin and lean forward to peck his lips.
His lips are much closer to me with these, taller or not.
Zayn's hands fly to my backside and he pushes me into him, taking my mouth.
"S-Stop," I pull my mouth away, leaning in his chest. "I've just painted my lips, you're going to smudge it all," I protest feeling his hands looser.
He rolls his eyes but doesn't smile jokingly like he usually does.
"You're kidding right?" He arches one of his eyebrows. "Who are you trying to impress anyway?"
His hands slip off me and glare at him before walking off to find my coat.
"I paint my lips cause I like how it looks, I couldn't care less if anyone else likes it or not," I groan walking out his room with my bag.
*
I turn the heat further up and tuck my hands between my legs.
We haven't spoke a word since we left his house. Not for any reason. Well, yes, he's being stubborn and I'm joining him, apparently.
I don't like people thinking I do my makeup to impress or attract attention, I feel comfortable and good with makeup, just like I do in pyjamas.
Zayn hasn't said anything and I'm kind of still rethinking everything about what could the detective say, so it kind of slipped my mind.
It's so cloudy it seems foggy, but it's not really, there's something weird going on with the clouds. It's like they're too low.
My pathetic meteorological study distracted me from realising we were already here, and Zayn shutting the door caught me off guard. I look out the window and frown at the dark depressing-looking building on my left.
I was about to open the door when it clicked open on it's own, revealing Zayn standing outside.
"You have the most beautiful lips Olivia, painted or not," he tells me, standing closer to the car, as if no one else could hear it.
I bite the inside of my lip trying not to smile like a schoolgirl.
He honestly ruins every 'I-do-it-for-myself' speech I have in my head when he provokes all these butterflies in me.
"Debatable," I whisper swiping my thumb over his bottom lip.
You'd never be able to imagine the touch of his lips, I find it hard to even describe the shape of them. Or the colour. Oh, and when he's got all this stubble going on... It does things to me.
"Come here you idiot," I mumble pulling him towards me from the collar of his shirt.
I can feel him smile against my mouth. His hand slips down my leg and his gentle lips kiss mine.
I almost feel like laughing because he's not kissing me like he usually does, he's actually doing his best not to smudge my lips.
"Can we go back to my bed after this?" He smirks leaning his nose next to mine.
"Some of us have to work, you know?" I tease him pecking his bottom lip.
"Please?" He whispers in the sweetest voice.
I take a deep breath and pretend it's a dose of self control. He hides his face in my neck and mumbles various "please, baby" while he kisses my sensitive cold skin.
I push the mirror down to check my lips and do my best to ignore him. Which is impossible.
"Zayn, stop, I can't, you know that," I say softly caressing his skin.
"But I haven't had sex for like... A week? I'm not even sure, that's worrying," he says horrified, his head turning slightly but still leaning on my shoulder.
"Montgomery seemed up for it," I mutter remembering last night.
I watch his frown in the mirror but it turns into a smirk.
"I only want sex with you," he whispers in my ear.
Why are we having this conversation hanging out a car in front of a police station?
I don't want to speak about Sandra because I don't want him to think of her at all. But I do want to talk about her, I want to make sure she's no one to him.
"Zayn," I say watching his face from the mirror.
He looks up at my face, waiting for me to talk.
"If you ever have something with Sandra... Don't do it while you're with me, like... If you don't want to be with me any more, don't cheat, just tell me, and then do whatever you want, please," my voice is raspier than I planned, my fear is showing.
I watch his puzzled look and I soon have his face in front of mine, trying to read my eyes.
His hand holds my neck, pulling me to him to devour my mouth, his tongue pushing my own around.
"I don't give a fuck about your lipstick," he mumbles dragging his mouth from my lips to my neck.
"Zayn!" I hold his face still. "Tell me you won't," I whisper letting my insecurities show.
His face goes serious and beautifully scary like when he's about to make a deal with someone as rich as him.
"I'm not going to cheat, I highly doubt I'll go anywhere either," he tells me with no expression.
I don't answer back, I just kiss him trying to kill the thought of him as Sandra together.
Zayn believes he'll stay with me, I can keep him for me.
*
I'd been sitting in an office for ten minutes waiting for this detective to come in. I couldn't help looking around his desk, obviously not touching anything, but still, I would have like to gone through the draws, there's probably so much important stuff here.
"Olivia," Zayn says from behind me.
There's a chair next to me where he could sit, but for some odd reason he preferred to stand and wait until the man came. I turn my head when he calls.
"I thought that Lottie girl was your friend," his forehead shows a slight frown.
"Yeah, uh..." I look down at my thighs and sigh. "She is, she's been acting strange lately," I say.
"Why?" He pushes, still not moving from his spot.
"Just secretive, she doesn't want to talk or even hear about me really," I shrug trying not to give it much importance.
If I do, I'll get emotional and it's really not the time.
"Secretive?" He repeats and I nod.
The door opens then, and I stand up to greet the detective. There's a beautiful girl shutting the door behind her.
"Morning," she beams a smile.
Her hair's long and golden, it's so shiny I want sunglasses. She's in a bright red dress that goes down to just above her knee, a dark blazer over it and killer heals. I'm not quiet sure if I'm jealous or infatuated.
"Detective Estrada," she offers me her hand.
"Olivia Anderson," I introduce myself, although she probably already knows.
I sometimes hate my brain, why on earth did I assume it'd be a man? There's honestly no coherent reason why it couldn't be a woman, but then again I assumed. I hate how sexist society builds us all, even if we don't realise. Feminism is so important.
She pats Zayn's shoulder and walks around the desk to take a seat, Zayn also taking the place next to me.
"So..." She squints her eyes slightly and takes a minute to click on the laptop. "I'll explain the options you have and what we've found out about your uncle's case, anything else you want to know, just tell me."
I nod and offer her a small smile.
"What option will damage him the most?" Zayn blurts out sternly.
I glare at him but he's looking at the detective so he doesn't see me. "Zayn."
"Do you want to kick him out?" The detective asks me batting her eyelashes. "I can make him leave the building."
I chuckle and shake my head looking back at Zayn. "He'll be a good boy, right?"
He rolls his eyes and leans back into his seat, I can tell he's annoyed as he prefers not to answer back.
"Right, as you probably know already, Samuel has a serious drug addiction, so when he can't get drugs he does things like what happened last Saturday," she explains carefully. "You can either press charges, which will lead to court, I can't assure you he'll be in jail for any time at all, but he will have to pay a fee, there will be some kind of punishment, it'll be up to the judge to decide."
"You can't assure he'll be in jail?! He broke into Olivia's house and hit her for fucking sake!" He exclaims slamming his fist on the table.
"Zayn!" I say grabbing his wrist to pull his hand back.
"Don't worry, just ignore him," Detective Estrada says shaking her head.
It seems like she's used to his temper. Although she must be used to many people reacting in horrible ways, really.
"Your uncle wasn't under the influence of drugs when he broke in, but he is affected by them, so in a way, he always is under the influence of drugs. That's why it depends on the judge, if he considers the drugs had a part in his actions, or not, but anyway he will pay for what he did, do you understand?" She asks typing something on the keyboard.
"Yes..." I nod slowly and she looks back at me. "What if I don't press charges? What happens to him then?"
"Well-"
"You have to be kidding me, Olivia," Zayn interrupts the woman.
"Be. Quiet. Please," I look at him talking slowly and serious.
I want to concentrate on what's going on, by myself, no influence in my final decision. He's not helping.
"For fuck's sake," he grunts standing up and walking to his original spot in the room.
I turn my attention back to the woman behind the desk, who is smiling amused.
"Even if you don't press charges, you can get a restraining order, and if you don't want that either, it's fine," she nods. "Someone else has pressed charges, so even if you don't do anything about it, he's going to have to go to court." She mutters reading something from the screen.
"Excuse me?" I ask and frown, realizing what's she's said.
I turn to see Zayn and he shrugs shaking his head.
"Who's pressed charges? Has he done anything else?" I ask worried, sitting on the edge of my chair.
"Uh, yes," she nods. "As you're the only family member over age he has, I can inform you about it, and you have to tell me if you allow Malik to know," she looks into my eyes, speaking completely serious.
I scrunch my face confused and shrug. "Yeah? I don't know... Is there any reason he shouldn't?" I ask.
"No, just legal procedure," she smiles.
I nod and she clicks about on her laptop.
"Good, okay, so, the woman who knocked on your door that night has been uh, seeing your uncle for quite some time, and not very long ago she gave birth to his baby," she explains slowly.
Although I'd assumed this, it's still shocking. I'm terrified for that baby.
"Where's the baby?!" I ask leaning forward.
"The mother of the child has decided to give him in adoption," she tells me and my eyes go wider.
"No, no, no, that baby needs a family," I tell her. "I can look after the baby," I blurt out.
Can I? No, I can't, why did I say that?
I don't want this baby to be alone with strangers.
"I'm sorry Miss Anderson, but the baby's been put into the program already, even if she hadn't, there's nothing you could do," she shakes her head.
At least the baby won't be brought up in that environment. Maybe Zayn can help me contact the family the baby ends up with. That baby is my cousin.
"Miss Anderson, this woman has pressed charges," she tells me. "She's a presumptuous victim, she accuses your uncle of several... Issues," she says. "He'll have to go to court, and I can assure you it doesn't look good for him."
I nod slowly, maybe for too long, while I think to myself.
So that's it, my uncle's lost his change to try again, at least for the time being. If I press charges it will just go worse for him.
He probably deserves it, I don't want to know what he did to that woman. I doubt she's making it up.
He needs to pay for whatever he's done, but I'm not contributing to his misery. Although I probably should...
"I don't want to press charges," I say finally.
"You wha-"
"This is your last warning, Malik," the detective warns the angry voice behind me.
There's a grunt and a bang heard, but he's probably just hit a wall or something.
"Good, I'll just need you to sign some papers then," she pulls two sheets of paper out of a folder.
*
"It's like destiny decided for me," I tell Zayn when I get in the car.
"It's like you're asking destiny to repeat what happened," he answers back, starting the car.
"No Zayn, but you heard her, he's gonna have a hard time, no matter what I decide," I explain, fishing my work phone out.
"He deserves more than a hard time," he grunts.
I quickly type a text when I realise it's 9.30am .
_______
You:
I'll be at the office in 30 minutes
______
There's no chance Philip will get there before I do, but just so he knows I'm not in.
"I've been thinking of what you said about Lottie," he says suddenly.
I look at him putting my phone back.
"I can find out what she's up to, if you're worried," he offers.
Yes!
No, that's wrong... It's basically what he does with me and I get annoyed about it.
But I just want to know if she's in any trouble, and if so, if I should help or not.
I sound so much like Zayn...
"So?" He insists when I don't answer him.
"I don't know... I want to know if she's okay, but it's wrong," I explain carefully thinking about it. "No, it's fine, don't do it." I shake my head.
"You sure?" He asks concentrating on the road.
"Yeah, thank you though," I answer watching the road too. "How long do you think it'll take to sell my flat?"
"You want to move?" He asks.
"I'm still thinking about it, I just don't feel safe there," I tell him looking out the window.
"Take it easy, Olivia," he says softly. "Your uncle isn't going to be walking around anymore, you can stay with me until you've decided," his hand rests on my thigh and I put mine over his.
"Thank you..." I whisper watching his big hand under mine. "If I stay at mine at some point... Would you sleep with me?" I ask him.
"I'm sleeping with you wherever we are," he smirks squeezing my thigh.
"Shut up you perv!" I laugh patting his hand. "You know what I meant."
We'd stop at a traffic light and I watch some people crossing by.
"I know..." He says next to my ear. "I'll keep you company, stop worrying," his lips kiss my jaw and I smile.
We'd kept on driving and I noticed the radio had stopped, a blue message appearing on the smooth screen of the car, followed by a beeping noise.
Zayn patted the screen with his index finger. Then he clicked something on the stearing wheel.
The message said 'Harry'. Maybe it's his birthday and it's a reminder? Or they have a meeting.
"Fuck it," Zayn grunts slapping the screen.
"Why won't it stop?" I ask calmly.
"I can't answer the stupid thing," he says annoyed. "It won't work."
Oh, it's a phone call.
Well it's not anymore because it's stopped.
"Where am I dropping you off?" He asks me. "Type the address on the screen," he tells me.
"No digging in, okay? Please," I beg him before typing anything.
A few minutes went by before Zayn said anything else.
"Do me a favour, my phone's in my left pocket, can you take it and tell whoever the fuck is ringing to go f-" he says before I interrupt him.
"Calm down, it's just a phone call," I say slipping my hand into his too-tight pocket.
"It's been five phone calls in the last five minutes," he grunts. "Who does it say it is?"
"Harry," I answer swiping the green part of the screen.
"Tell him to get a life," he shouts.
"Hi Harry," I answer sweetly, trying to outweigh Zayn's screaming.
"I'm not surprised it's been miserable this morning, you have the sunshine right next to you, huh?" He jokes and I can picture his eyes wide open and a smiley face.
"What does he want?" Zayn asks.
"How are you?" I ask him nicely.
Harry is really nice and Zayn really isn't, I think he should treat Harry better than he does, so I will make him start.
"Good, very pleasant start of the week, I've heard you didn't have a good weekend though," he says and I smile.
"No, not really, but it's getting better," I tell him and shrug, although he can't see me.
"I'm glad, Liv," I think I can see his dimples in the window. "Tell Zayn I'm organising a party at 'The Pink Cloud' this evening, I'd like him to go," he tells me.
"Harry's organised an event at a club, he wants you to be there," I tell Zayn, slightly covering the speaker.
"Does he know it's Monday? I'm not going," he says, not even giving it a second thought.
"Uh-" I try to think how this can sound good, but I'm slow.
"I've heard, don't worry," he sighs. "Do you want to go Livvy?" Harry asks and I'm automatically up for it.
Okay, wait a minute. I have a brother who's coming home today.
Although I don't want him staying at Zayn's or our flat and I still haven't thought anything... Shit.
I could take Johanna's offer and let him stay the night there.
"Yeah! Sounds good," I say getting more excited by the minute.
"Honestly? Great!" He exclaims. "You're gonna love it, I promise, I'll get you drunk so you forget the weekend," he laughs.
"I'm all up for that!" I join him, relaxing on my seat.
"I'll take care of you though, otherwise my head will be up for sail at some Malik store tomorrow," he jokes, making me giggle like an idiot. "I'll text you the details!"
I suddenly feel like a rebel.
Maybe Tamara will be there? Or had they broken up? I can't remember if Zayn told me or not. Damn.
"Did you tell him you're gonna go?" His voice exclaims as soon as I hang the phone.
"Yep," guess who's in trouble.
"Why?" He asks bluntly.
"Because I... I don't know, I think it'll be good. I haven't had that kind of fun for a while," I shrug. "It'll do me good," I say.
"You were stressing over your signature a while ago, I doubt alcohol will do you any good," he tells me quite rudely.
"Do you want to go with me, Zayn?" I ask ignoring his comments.
"No, I really don't," he's angry, or annoyed, or maybe both.
Being the stubborn baby boy he is, he won't go with me just because he said he wouldn't in the first place.
He's so small sometimes, a little boy I have to take care of.
I lean forward and kiss his jaw.
He's frowning now.
If this was a month ago, I'd be freaking out about him not liking me. Now, I know it's him wanting to kiss me but being too angry so he's got to try and show how angry he is.
"You're so tiny Zayn," I whisper running my finger over his lips.
"Why would you say that?" He eyes me annoyed and scoffs. "We're nearly there."
I laugh and sit back, admiring his face. I really wouldn't know what to choose to be the best part of it.
He's so handsome.
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