15 Years // harry styles

chapter seventeen

H

My throat is dry when I finally get up off the blanket, easing a sleeping Bailey up with me.

I tell myself it's because of the cold air, but I know it's not.

"S' cold," she murmurs, huddling closer to me. She wraps her arms around my torso underneath my jacket, and although I can't see her I know her eyes are closing again.

"C'mon, let's get you home," I whisper, moving her arms up around my neck and lifting her with ease, carrying her out of the empty stadium, the click of my boots echoing through the air.

I hadn't meant to stay for so long, but she was so at peace that I didn't want to disturb it. From the moment she finished telling me about Trevor I saw a different Bailey. I saw my Bailey, the one I saw flickers of in her more vulnerable moments, not the one who put up a front without even realizing it.

She clings tighter to me as I head back out of the stadium, my eyes peeled, checking every dark corner we pass. Despite the fact that I know Trevor is behind bars somewhere, the idea of him even thinking about her makes my stomach turn and I can't help but coil my arms a little tighter around her back until we're safely in Jerry's cab.

She lays down immediately, head in my lap and I run my fingers through her dark hair until she's drifted back to sleep again.

And as I watch out the window, every face looks like it could be Trevor's, every man I see is a threat to this precious thing I have in front of me, breathing peacefully, encompassed in her dreams.

"She told you didn't she." Jerry's voice is soft, and I realize it's the first words we've spoken since I got in the cab.

"How'd you know?"

"You're looking at everything outside that window like it's going to kill her. It's not hard to guess." He sighs a little, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"How do you do it?" My tongue slips, and I regret asking immediately. I shift my eyes down to Bailey. She's frowning in her sleep, getting more restless, so I reach for her hand. She intertwines our fingers and seems content enough, settling back down.

"Do what?"

"How do you let her go out into the world when you know there could be someone out there watching for her. One of Trevor's fucking buddies or something. How do you let her without losing your mind, because just the thought of someone being within ten feet of her makes me want to throw up."

The words sound irrational coming off my tongue, but the pit in my stomach is still there.

Jerry doesn't say a word, but he pulls off to a parking space immediately, stopping as abruptly as he can without waking Bailey. He snaps the gear shift into park and turns to look at me.

"Listen here Styles. You don't let Bailey Conrad do anything, you got that? That girl is the strongest woman I have ever met in my life, and I knew her mother. She is stronger than me and you and this whole god damn city put together after what she's been through, and she's sure as hell strong enough and smart enough to make her own decisions without you, or me, or anyone else. So I don't let her do anything. She does as she pleases and I do everything I can do to keep her safe when she does. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir. Crystal." My throat is tight again.

"Good." His voice is sharp as he pulls back out onto the street, the ride only lasting a few more blocks before we're in front of her apartment building.

"B, wake up. We're home," I whisper, gently shaking her shoulder. She sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and pouting a little, then thanking Jer and telling him to enjoy the lemon bars before I help her out of the car.

I place a hand on the small of her back, leading her inside quickly, hoping the sooner we're safe inside the sooner Lydia's warning will stop screaming in my head.

It'll all make sense in its time, she had told me after saying that Bailey was never to be seen with me by the media, and it does make sense now. With her face plastered on every magazine and every Twitter page, every Tumblr blog and every gossip site, she'd be a sitting duck for Harrison.

I can feel her twisting my rings around on my fingers and her eyes on me, but I stare at the numbers clicking by on the elevator.

4

5

6

"You're very quiet tonight." Her voice is small.

7

8

9

"Just tired."

10

11

12

13

14

15

"Me too."

16

17

18. I welcome the ding and step off slowly. I glance around the hall to make sure no one is there.

She unlocks the door quietly, stepping inside with her back to me and I know she expects me to follow, but something holds me on the other side of the doorway.

"Well c'mon," she murmurs, waving me in. I'm frozen there, and I can't find the words to explain to her the pain in my chest from imagining her being followed, being stalked by a man who only knew where she was because of me and my carelessness. What if someone saw me on my way in? What if the woman in the lobby recognized me from the start and has been reporting it to someone? My head begins to spin.

"I-I, um, I don't think I'm going to stay tonight." The words feel like bile coming off my tongue, and by the way she flinches I'm sure they feel like venom.

"Oh. Alright." She steps closer to me despite the sadness in her voice, and I can tell she wants me to kiss her. And I want to. God I want to, but I hear footsteps on the stairs and the feeling in my gut makes me murmur a quiet "goodnight Bailey." before turning on my heel and heading to the elevator.

I hear her door click shut before I get inside, and I feel even more nauseous than before. Grabbing my phone, I text her quickly as the elevator descends.

I should have kissed you. That was a mistake. I'll explain myself soon, I'm sorry. I had a really good time tonight.

I want to chuck my phone against the pavement on the street when I realize how stupid I'm being, and I almost turn around to go right back in the building when I hear a few muffled whispers of "is that Harry Styles?" "Isn't he in one direction?"

I suppress my groan, checking my phone. No text. Maybe she fell asleep.

But when I look up I can see the faint silhouette of a girl sitting in her reading nook on the 18th floor, and my heart might as well have just been under the wheel of the taxi I hail to take me back to my hotel.