-Ava's POV-
I didn't want him here for this.
I knew it would be bad, his reaction. I knew he'd blame himself even more. But I also knew there was no way from stopping him from finding out.
He would, and when he did the guilt would eat him alive. No matter how unwarranted. It would.
He'd already asked me if I knew. If I'd seen his face. I'd avoided the question, changing the subject, even feigning pain if I had to. Wasn't right, but I did. There was already so much hurt in his eyes. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him.
But now, with two police officers standing in front of me... I had no choice but to speak the words, to explain every detail of what happened.
I was tired. To tired.
It was only 11 a.m. but already I'd had to walk down the corridor twice and receive eight visitors. My friends, all wanting to see my face. To see proof that I was okay. Harry stood back as they each fawned over me, watching with a proud grin on his face. Even when Liam hugged me, it stayed. I didn't ask, but I understood. When something big happens, smaller things suddenly seem trivial.
Poppy and Finn had arrived first. Both crying, both clutching onto me as if I would disappear. Next came Anne and Gemma, both with red eyes full of relief. Then came Lou, Liam, and Niall. More crying from Lou, a hostess cupcake from Niall, and a restrained hug from Liam. Jenna followed soon after, insisting I not worry about a thing work wise.
Some came and went, others were ushered out when the police arrived.
"Can you tell us the string of events Miss McCain? Please be as detailed as possible."
I nod at the officer, my eyes glancing over to Harry sitting next to me. He has a hold of my hand tightly, squeezing it and giving me a nod to tell them. Giving me comfort, showing support.
Only he'll be the one needing both... If he hears of what exactly I went through that night.
"Harry... could you give us a minute?"
His eyes widen in confusion, shock, and hurt. "What? No."
"You may want to step outside Mr. Styles. It's usually very hard for loved ones to hear a thorough account of what happened." Officer Rhodes speaks up.
"What? No." Harry repeats himself, his eyes shifting back and forth between me and the officers. "Am not leaving."
"Harry..."
"No Ava." He cuts me off. His voice is stern. Adamant. "I need to hear it... Please love. Don't shut me out. I'm in this with you. Not leaving... end of discussion."
I suck in a deep breath, my throat still a bit sore.
I look up, nodding at the officers it's okay to continue. One pulls out a notepad and pen, the other a recording device.
And with that I relived what I went through that night.. A dark figure in the hallway, my hair being pulled out as I was dragged down it. The hits to my face, the crack of my ribs breaking, the feeling of being choked. The screams. My hand being crushed, being thrown against the counter. More hits. More Screams. Then broken glass being thrust into my stomach.
I kept my eyes trained on the officers the entire time. I couldn't look over. I couldn't bring myself to look in Harry's eyes. I felt his touch, ever present as his large hand held mine. Tears ran down my cheeks. I felt sick. I felt dizzy as the memories came flooding back, to fresh to not affect me.
When I was asked if I saw his face and I answered yes, I felt Harry's hand tense.
When I was asked if I recoginzed him and I answered yes again, he finally spoke.
His voice was weak, quiet, "Ava.."
My eyes meet his and I wish they hadn't. Tears were fresh on his cheeks, his face was red. Sadness, pain, but also anger were reflected in his features. He knows.
His name rolled off my tongue like poison, the words tasting bitter.
"Scott Black."
"And how do you know Mr. Black?" Officer Rhodes asks.
"He's my ex-husband. I left him, a little over two years ago." I answer quietly.
"And how would you describe your relationship with Mr. Black when you were married?"
"He beat the shit out of her." Harry cuts in, his voice sounding like I've never heard it before. "He did it again.. last year. We were in Europe. He broke into her hotel room. There were several witnesses."
"Is this true Miss McCain?"
I nod, looking down at my lap. Starting to cry.
"Mr. Styles, if you could give us a list of names.. We would like to speak to each of the witnesses."
"I want him arrested, this afternoon."
"Mr. Styles..."
"Just tell me what you need to make it fucking happen." Harry barks, his voice unbelievably deep.
"Things are not always black and white Mr. Styles..."
Harry stands up, dropping my hand. His chest rising and falling rapidly. "He lives in New York. If he isn't in custody in the next three hours, I'm suing you both for gross negligence. I'll personally make sure you never work for the police force again. Is that understood?"
"Harry..."
He looks down at me, his eyes red, anger radiating off him. But he doesn't speak to me. His eyes flick to the officers before glancing at the clock. "You have three hours. I'm calling my laywer now."
With that he storms out of the room, leaving both me and the offices with wide eyes.
"Don't worry Miss McCain. He will be apprehended shortly. We'll contact the New York Department as soon we get back to the station."
I nod as they say their goodbyes and leave the room. I curl into my bed as soon as the door is shut, and I cry.
The day drags by, going by so slowly I wondering if time is moving at all. I'm not bored, not with everyone popping in now and then to see me. Poppy and Finn staying almost all day, bickering back and forth.
No I'm not bored. But I can't stop watching the door. Waiting for Harry to come back.
Lunch went by with no sign from him. Watching Niall stuff endless amounts of food into his mouth made me laugh, but my eyes still watched the door. The afternoon turned into evening without so much as a text or phone call. I was made to walk down the corridor again, but this time I didn't have Harry to lean on. The sun set and soon visiting hours were over. Everyone said their goodbyes and left me for the night. I was alone, trying to distract myself by watching t.v., but my eyes still watched the door.
It was a little after 10 p.m. when the nurse checked on me and insisted I get some rest. She checked my machines, letting me know the i.v.s would be removed tomorrow. Then she turned off the light over my bed and left me in the dark.
But I couldn't sleep. I was to worried, to upset, to anxious to close my eyes.
I knew I would get scolded for doing so, but I got out of bed and sat down in the chair next to the window. The one Harry's been sitting in for days. I opened the curtains, letting the moonlight fill the room as I stared out at the lights of L.A.
"How could you not tell me?"
The deep voice startled me and my eyes left the window, looking across the room. The light was faint, but enough for me to see his face. Angry. Hurt.
"I asked you... you didn't tell me. What am I supposed to take from that?"
"I..." I start, but am quickly cut off.
"Then you want me to leave the bloody room when you tell them? Fuck Ava... Do you've any idea how that made me feel?"
"I'm sorry." I say quietly.
He moves towards me, but stops and leans against the window, crossing his arms. A deep breath of air leave his lips as the moonlight cast shadows across his face. His fingers run through his long hair, pushing it back off his forehead.
"Been trying to figure out all day why you would push me away like that."
"I didn't want to see you hurt."
"Hurt?" He chuckles, but there's no humour in it. "Fuck... I just... Yeah, hearing all that hurt. About killed me actually. I fucking hate what happened to you. I hear you fucking screaming for me in my head. I see those bruises on you, that cast... You almost died. Yeah, that hurts. And I fucking hate him. I'd find it a privilege to beat the shit out of him till he is laying on the floor, clutching at his body. If I saw him right now, I'd kill him. Wouldn't have a second thought about it. The thought of what he did to you... It hurts.. It makes me go mad. But you know what I hate the most? Myself."
"Harry, please don't." I shake my head, feeling a tear slide down my cheek.
"No. You almost... you almost bled out on my fucking floor, while I was gone. And for what? To sign some fucking books. You were getting attacked while I was laying in bed thinking of what funny things I could write next to my bloody signature. I fucking loathe myself. I couldn't protect you. Do you get... Do you understand there's no point to anything if I can't keep you safe? But with all that... I knew.. No, thought I at least could be here for you now. Take care of you now. But you won't even fucking let me do that. How could you not tell me? I don't understand it. I want to be able to take care of things for you Av. I need to. I have to be able to. You have to let me."
His voice is no longer angry, but desperate. He kneels in front of my chair, placing his hands on my thighs. I push his hair off his face and look him in the eyes. So tired, so red, so full of tears.
"Av.." He chokes, "You have to Love. Please... You have to let me take care of you. You have to... You have to."
"You are. You are." I try to shush him, petting his hair, running my fingers across his cheeks. "You are taking care of me. You always have."
I lean forward just a little, ignoring the throbbing pain in my stomach as I pull his face to mine. His pink lips are soft, needy. I can feel the wetness of his cheeks. He moans into my lips, moving his hands up and gripping my face, deepening the kiss. He tongue slips into my mouth greedily as he moves up, leaning over me so I'm sitting up straight. So my pain is diminished. I tug on his shirt, feeling his chest move up and down rapidly, pulling him closer. My hands tangle in his hair.
When I feel his excitement press into my knee I know we have to stop. No matter how much I need to show him I love him, that I trust him, I can't. Not in that way. Not until I'm better.
He knows, groaning as he pulls away, cursing under his breath as our lips part with a smacking noise. He stays within a few inches of my lips, panting heavily.
"Bloody hell Av. I want you so badly right now I can't fucking think straight."
"I know." I whisper, pecking his lips once more.
We end up in my bed together, fully clothed and gently touching. I know he won't stay, to afraid he'll accidentally hurt me in his sleep. But I know he won't move until I dozed off, and I take comfort in the fact I still get to fall asleep in his arms.
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