My Hope (Louis Tomlinson FanFic) *Completed*

Chapter 8

*Louis' POV*

"What are we supposed to do, lads?" Liam asked us. We all just sat there for a moment, in silence. I shook my head, peaking through the doorway to look at the sleeping girl on the couch.

Kayla had written down her story. Or, the basics, that is. All we know is that her father is after her, and that he had abused her since she was young. She also told us she didn't have a mother, but we don't know what happened to her or why she doesn't speak. We still needed to get her ankle checked out. She hasn't moved from the couch, seeing as she can't walk right now.

"I don't know, Liam." I shook my head. "But if she was running from her father because he abused her, we cant let her go out on her own. It's not safe." Liam gave me a look.

"So, what do you suggest we do with her then?" Harry said. I mentally rolled my eyes at his choice of words.

"I agree with Lou, it wouldn't be safe to let her be wandering around by herself if her abusive father is still loose, and looking for her." Niall spoke up from his spot on the kitchen counter. I smiled at him gratefully, which he returned.

"I agree that we can't just put her in risk because of her father, but I also agree with Harry and Liam, we don't know what to do in this situation."Zayn said from his spot in the corner of the bus's small kitchen.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Harry asked. We all shrugged.

"For a start, explain to me why that girl on you boy's couch." A new voice joined our conversation, making us all jump. I turned towards the doorway to the living room again to see Paul standing there, his arms crossed across his chest and a stern expression on his face.

We all looked at each other quickly, all starting to speak up at once.

"Well, you see-"

"What happened-"

"The arena- door-"

"Louis did it!"

"She's hot."

We all turned and looked at Harry, who was glancing back at all of us. "What?" He held his hands up in surrender.

Paul rolled his eyes and pointed to Liam, who had been the first to speak as it was. "Okay, Liam, you explain. I can trust you to tell me the truth." We all quickly and he held up his hand to silence us.

"Well, you see, you remember that Louis hit her with a door," Liam started. (A/N: I can't remember if Paul was there for the incident, but can we pretend he was?) "and I know, we were probably supposed to get her back home, but we can't."

"And why not? I remember making it clear to you guys before I left this bus that she needed to be back home soon." Paul glared at us in disappointment.

"Her father abuses her," I piped up. "We cant just hope he doesn't find her again and this time, do worse than just hit her."

"Louis!" Paul looked at me with wide eyes. "Why didn't you start by telling me that?!"

"You didn't give me the chance," I muttered, looking down. Paul sighed and started pacing. I looked back up and looked at Kayla, who was still peacefully sleeping, her black hair fanned out around her head, her eyelids hiding her beautiful green eyes from the world.

She looked so peaceful as she slept, like nothing was going to be able to hurt her. It was almost as if she had never gone through the pain she had been. But even with the peaceful look on her face, you could see the bruises covering her body. The scrapes and cuts that covered her body and face were visible as well through her torn and tattered clothes. Even still...

She was beautiful.

"What are you guys planning on doing with her then?" Paul asked. We shook our heads, looking at each other.

"We were hoping you'd have an idea," Harry shrugged. Paul shrugged and ran a hand down his face.

"If what you said is true, and she has been being abused, we can report it to the authorities and get her father locked up. How old is she?"

"Seventeen," Liam answered.

"Then it's simple, she'd be put in a foster home until she turns eighteen," Paul shrugged. I quickly shot out of my chair.

"No!" I looked at him as if he were mad. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Louis, we don't have another choice, unless she is about to turn eighteen."

"Paul, can't we do something? Place her under someone else's care?" I asked him.

"Like who, Louis?"

"Like mine, Paul." Liam shot up.