He has my heart. L.s.

37

*these next few chapter will be longer.*

*One Month Later*

It's been a month since New Years. Harry and I have fooled around a bit more. Like on his birthday. Anyway things aren't as smoothing sailing as I would like. For instance my ex-boss he keeps sending me threatening text messages. Even the police keep watching me, I've noticed an undercover cars here and there.

I haven't mentioned any of this to Harry because quite frankly we have enough problems. Like I keep begging him to tell me when he needs me, but that doesn't work he keeps hurting himself. Plus his Dad has only gotten worst, and Harry's still thinking about going to the police, but he isn't sure of course. And El I think she's slowly getting the hint that I'm not interested, we haven't broken up but we haven't really talked either.

Harry and I don't just fight about his Dad and things we fight about everything. A playful banter turns into a full on screaming match. I hate it when we fight, we usually make up. Then there are the fights that he's mad at me for days. I hate those ones especially.

Luckily we haven't fought in a few days, but I don't know. I sit in my last period as Mr. Quinn continues to bore me to death. Suddenly there's a knock on the door. We all perk up trying to see who it is.

Then two nicely dressed guys walk in, ones eyes find me. Mr. Quinn talks to one. Harry looks at me and I shrug looking at the deceive showing I am not scared, even though I am.

"Louis Tomlinson we need to speak with you," a detective says. I slowly get up slinging my bag over my shoulder. I go out to the hallway, but I find Zayn there already in handcuffs. He gnaws at his bottom lip, but then gives me a look that is filled with worry.

"All right hands up against the wall," one orders we do as he says. They start to move Zayn toward the doors he's just mumbling under his breath. People glance out in the hallway, staff mostly.

"Louis Tomlinson you are under arrest for the murder of Bradlee Cain. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney." he says. Panic rises in my chest and I feel like I can't breathe.

They load us in the squad car, Zayn is just as confused as I am. I wonder what they arrested him for. Hell I didn't even murder anyone, murder?!?
Really. Then it hits me, he framed me. The knife.
My finger prints. Dead body. I'll be damned if my prints are on that body.

In the station they separate Zayn and I, detectives handcuff me to the table, rude mothers. I look around seeing the double glass mirror thing. I sigh, knowing they are probably watching me, seeing if I get nervous. I play it cool tapping my free hand in the table.

"Can I get a water?" I ask out loud. A few minuets two deceives walk in. One a female the other I know because he was investigating my stabbing.
The lady sets a water bottle on the table. "Was hand cuffing me the table really called for, sweetheart?" I ask.

"You're a dangerous man," she says falsely smiling.

"Oh really?" I laugh. "Oh right I'm a murderer, okay so one of you mind telling me how I murdered this person?" I ask.

The male detective slaps a file down opening it showing very disturbing pictures, repluseing really.
The pictures are of a man his throat slit open, his chest cut open his face beaten. I know him.
Bradlee.

I push the pictures away shunning them. "This are repulsive!" I snap. "You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this!"

"Oh but we do, we have evidence," they smirk and take my water away that had my finger prints and DNA.