This Love (Niall fanfiction)

chapter 29

Cleo's P.O.V

I make eye contact with my uncle, Peter. He smirks at me and disappears into the crowd. What was he doing out of jail? How come the jail place didn't contact me saying he was released? Why is he here? I pause my dancing in the middle of a fast beat song with Niall. He notices and turns me around.

"Cleo? Are you alright?" Niall asked. I stared off into space. I stop blinking and daze off trying to answer questions that floated to the front of my mind. I only find one answer: that's who was pulling me.

"No! I'm not alright, can we leave? I want the car keys!" I snap.

"Babe." Niall says shaking me gently back and forth by my shoulders. I could get used to him calling me that, he sounds so concerned.

"P-Peter." is all I could get out whenever I spot him one more time, closer, then disappears.

"Cleo, whatever is wrong it'll be fine. Just dance with me." Niall slurs. He's had way too many drinks tonight.

Flashback-

I was nine. I was left at home by myself with my aunt, but she decided to go to her friend's house for tea. I waited on my Uncle to get home, so that he could take me to the park like he had promised before he left. I hear the door click together. I didn't even hear him come in.

"Cleo." he slurs. I run to give him a hug because he was my favorite uncle.. and my only uncle. Peter and I were close, he always told me jokes whenever I was sad to cheer me up or bought me candy whenever my aunt would say 'no candy'. I throw my arms around his waist, my head coming a little above his belt buckle. He rank of alcohol. Peter bent down on his knees and met me at eye level. He grabbed me by my waist moving his hands down near my bum and squeezing.

"W-what are you doing?" I said fumbling over my words. Him squeezing my bum whenever I was five years old was okay because I paid no mind to it, but I remember my dad had given me a talk whenever I was 7 about 'bad guys' and what they do to 'cute little girls like me' as my dad said.

Peter picks me up behind my knees, having me propped on his left hip. He opens his bedroom door and throws me onto the bed. His eyes are black and not the ocean blue color they usually were. I knew he was drunk.

He slammed the door shut and I scoot backwards into the headboard of the bed. Peter comes on the bed and grabs me by my ankles, pulling me down and onto my back. He spreads my legs apart and puts both of his knees ontop of mine, pinning my legs down. My wrists are harshly taken in his large hands and hoisted above my head. He then moves one of his hands off of my wrists. My wrists are so small that he can hold them with one hand. He bends down kissing all over my neck and I start to scream. I try to kick, but I'm trapped down.

"Stop fucking squirming!" He yells in my face.

His hand roams up my shirt, feeling all over my stomach and up to my chest. I didn't have much because I was only nine. I manage to get one of my legs from under him and kick him in his crotch. I was sobbing trying to escape from him.

"You bitch!" Peter's voice strains while he bends over in pain. He brings his right hand and puts it roughly in my hair, fisting my hair and throwing me off of the bed. I run for my life. I go downstairs, grab the house phone and hide. I lock myself in the bathroom. I can hear his footsteps looking for me. I dial for the police and put hand over my mouth to silence my sobs.

The police barges in the house and Peter is still looking for me.

"I'll get you, Cleo. Just wait!" He shouts. The police find me and once my aunt gets home she's informed about everything that just happened. My aunt adopted me, but was killed in a car accident when I was 17. I turned 18 in a month so I bought a house with my friends.