Heroism (h.s.)

6.

I feel Harry’s posture change beside me, his chest puffing out defensively.  I shuffle a little closer to him as Cory approaches, the policeman following close behind.  My nerves skyrocket.

The cop surprises me by speaking first, “Styles.  You showed up early to this one.”

Harry looks a little embarrassed to be called out but keeps his gaze fixed on the people in front of us.  I make a note to ask him about it later.

“I’m not really sure I’m following, Officer.  We're just walking home, it isn't a crime.”

“Is this your boyfriend, Alexa?” Cory sneers, leaning towards me.  I wince and Harry gently pulls me closer, our hips touching.

“The crime, actually,” the cop interjects, “is domestic abuse.”

Harry blinks, “So go ahead, why aren’t you arresting him?”

“You mean her.”

My mouth drops open and my jaw screams in pain.  I hold it gingerly as I say, “Me?  I didn’t hurt anybody.”

“This young man suggests you’re the reason for his broken wrist.  Care to explain?”

I literally have no words.  I make eye contact with Cory, his arms crossed over his chest.  I notice a big, clunky cast covering his left wrist and the sight of it makes me sick.

“I don’t…”

“Are you serious?” Harry starts angrily, most of his venom directed at Cory, “Look at her right now.  You think any of this was instigated by her?  She tried to quit her job because of him.  The only reason he has a broken wrist is because he put so much effort into beating her.”

Cory lunges at Harry but the cop pushes him back with little difficulty and turns to face him, “What kind of shit are you trying to pull, boy?  You hit her?”

“In self-defence!  Why are you taking his word over mine?” Cory rages.

The policeman looks back over his shoulder at Harry, “Past experience,” he then nods, signalling to us to get the hell out of here.  I glance at Cory warily as we pass by and he shouts in rage, the cop slapping handcuffs around his wrists as he holds him back.  He reminds me of a rabid dog.

“What was that?” I ask Harry shakily.

He doesn’t answer, leading me into the apartment building.  We assume the piggyback position we used earlier and he climbs the stairs two at a time.  He drops me gingerly at my door.

I hesitate with my key.

“So…you aren’t going to explain yourself, are you?”

Harry shrugs, “No.  At least, not yet.”

“Not yet,” I repeat slowly, eyebrows raised.

“Eventually.”

“Right, well,” I huff angrily, “When you think I’m worthy enough to be informed, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Alexa-”

“Thanks for your help,” I cut him off, throwing open my door and slamming it in his face.

I don’t know why I’m so mad.  Harry and I aren’t friends; we’re barely strangers.  He doesn’t owe me anything.  Hell, I owe him more for saving my life that one time and taking care of me last night.  I owe him for keeping me safe.

Now that I think about it, slamming the door in his face was the absolute wrong thing to do.

Just as I’m about to wrench open the door and call after Harry, Lisa pads into the hallway.