Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Six: "He's Back"

I stared at the TV, just like I had when I was working on my project with my computer. But this time was utterly different. Every day I've spent pretending I never had family to worry about, every moment I fought to keep my mind from wandering toward the one person who ruined every chance I had of doing what I truly wanted to do when I grew old enough came crashing down into the Hell I call my life.

The brown eyes that stared back at me were cold and empty. Instead of the ones that gleamed with excitement and innocence, I saw only dark, blindly horrid eyes. Full, dark pink lips frowned, showing no signs of a smile that had recently been displayed.

I fought with myself on whether I should shed a tear for the picture of this man that I didn't even know anymore.

"...arrested as of yesterday, and charged with assault and battery against Manhattan Citizen Cris Hanson, who was allegedly almost beat to death. Hanson is currently in critical condition, and is being treated as we speak. When we come back, we'll tell you how music effects young children's minds."

I bit my lip, surprising a great sigh as I wondered what that innocent man had done to earn near death. With the guilty party's lack of patience and struggle with holding his temper, it wouldn't surprise me if all that caused it was a simple bump on the street.

"You know he can't come back if he's arrested, right, Bri?"

I didn't bother turning my head, as I remembered Harry had come to join me at the coffee shop this morning. Originally, Harry was a great guy, and I would never mind hanging out with him when Claire was busy, and vise versa on his part.

I nodded my head, my hands wrapped tightly around my plastic cup. If I squeezed any harder, the scorching hot liquid would burst all over the table - and me.

"I know... but I still wonder whether we're wrong."

"Even if he had the chance to get free and come here, you know Claire, Zayn, and I would break our backs to protect you."

I left a sad smile as I looked back to his assured face. "I don't want you to."

"Whether you want us or not, we're still here," he said once more, as if I needed more words to hear for me to realize he was as serious as the next person. In a way, I did. Every time this topic came up, every one of them would tell me over and over that they were there if anything happened. That they would always be there to help me, even if I refused it.

Harry took my silence as a confirmation to continue. "Besides, it's not like the chance of him returning is more than half. I'm sure he's going to jail, and no one will bail him out because no one wants him out. He wouldn't come back, even if he wanted to."

I sighed, letting my gaze drop back to the cup that still sat in my tense hands. I felt this feeling punch me in the gut, and I forced a smile for Harry to see. I couldn't let him see my uncertainty at his words for even a second, because he would then find out everything there is to know, where, and why, just to find a way to convince me otherwise so he could ease my discomfort. But I knew there was no way around this time. He would eventually find his way here, and he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

He would ruin my life, and make me fall apart just so he could get the pleasure of seeing me so distressed.

Harry cleared his throat, probably racking his brain for something different to converse about, as he obviously sensed my discomfort.

"So how is your project coming along?"

My shoulders slumped forward as my depression faded into frustration. "I'm not done yet. I don't even know what I'm going to do when I have to hand it in. I'm about ready to just shove it in Franklins face and say, 'screw this'."