Annabel [h.s.]

twenty-one

Harry hums to himself as he roams the aisles looking for any necessary food item that they might need. Annabel pretty much used all of the food in the house, but he told her to sit at home and finish her book while he went out to get groceries.

She didn't put up much of a protest and left him with a kiss and a smack to the ass. He hates it when she does that and she knows it, so she does it every chance that she gets. But that's alright because he likes to piss her off too and it works for them.

He's been there for a half an hour already, but he can't help that the closest store is a Wal-Mart and it's always impossibly crowded. Annabel won't mind, he just doesn't like leaving her alone in the house sometimes. The cops have stopped watching them after seeing that they really are boring ass people, and that worries him because he knows that a lot of people in the town don't like them and are convinced that they killed Madison.

People are unpredictable and he knows that better than anyone. That's what worries him. But he knows that Annabel can take care of herself if there's only one person, so it isn't as worrisome as it could be.

She's been so good to him lately and so sweet and he finds himself in the gardening section, looking at the different types of flowers and wondering which ones she doesn't have and which ones she'll like. Unfortunately, it takes him a while and another thirty minutes pass as he inspects each plants petals and shape.

By the time that he actually leaves he's gotten a ton of food, a pot of flowers, and a book that he thinks Annabel will like. All in all, he's spent about an hour and a half in the store and he's more than ready to go home to his Annabel.

He's gotten all of the bags in the trunk and he's grabbing the flowers when a large number of footfalls behind him catches his attention. It's not going to be good and he knows it, there's that undeniable feeling in his chest and he just hopes that they won't ruin the flowers.

"Feeling safe tonight, Styles?"

Harry sets the flowers in the trunk before he turns around, "Not particularly, no."

That wasn't the answer that any of the seven men were expecting, but it doesn't make Harry feel any better about what's about to happen because he knows that they're still going to jump him and beat the shit out of him. Madison's two brothers, Stephen and Alex, are there and they've brought five of their friends.

"Good, because you're not."

Harry doesn't respond and all five men take the moment to really get him. Fists fly everywhere and he's not really sure who's hitting what because it feels like he's being hit by a semi-truck. He doesn't fight back though because he knows that there isn't any way that he'll win.

The men kick him and beat him until he can hardly breathe and all he can taste is blood. By the time that they're finished, he's sure that he's got a few broken ribs, a broken nose, and probably a concussion. And he definitely needs some stitches. Scratch that, a lot of stiches.

Someone decided to spit on him and everyone else followed before they left him there, bleeding and lying in the parking lot.

Plenty of people saw, it was hard not to, and they didn't do anything because they were scared. Some of them knew the men beating him and some of them knew why he was being beaten so badly. No one called the cops because everyone thought someone else would and because most of them thought he deserved it.

He lays there for a good while trying to catch his breath and better gauge his injuries now that all of the punching and kicking had stopped. Everyone carries on as if this-seeing a man on the ground, bleeding-is normal.

Eventually, he manages to pick himself up and collect himself enough to shut his drunk and get in the car. He sits there, breathing and staring at the nearly empty parking lot for a long time before he clears his busted head and starts the car.