Criminal

Chapter 27

I have been back home for 3 days now. I have a tracker on my ankle, and I got my ass beat 7 times so far, just as Steve said I would.

I wear Harry's hoodie everywhere I go. I can't imagine where id be without the reminder of him.

In perspective, August was here, summer was going to end soon, and that meant the worst possible news was about to be told.

Apparently, I did have parents. Steve and Carol actually did adopt me, so I was forced by them to call them mom and dad. It is still taking some getting used to, by I'll get it.

In 4 weeks I will be on my way to college. My "mom" has been saving up really big for me to get into this huge private college, and it was finally here.

The college was in New York, and it turns out that they will be moving there as well, only about an hour from the college itself.

I will be living in dorms, and I have a calendar of dates that I have to be back home on certain days otherwise I will have serious consequences. I didn't even want to know what those were.

Back on the chore grind, I've gotten the chances to check the computer a few times. One of the things that I got out of running away is that I take more chances. I want to, and I know I can.

When I got to the computer I opened msn.com and the first thing I got was a bunch of Harry Styles isn't dead kind of things.

But I did find lots of pictures. The boys surrounding him, he even got around to an interview. All I really got out of it were tears.

He didn't mention me, but did I expect him to? He mentioned his friends in Washington. He mentioned Harold. His family. Fiona. But me?

But I didn't matter. No one would believe any of this happened. Best to just forget. Clean cut.

Harry's POV:

This summer I could climb out of my bed knowing Caroline and I were floating the same boat. We both gave up our lives and trusted each other. I told her more truth than I've told myself.

The idea of her being the only female to wear my clothes personally makes my heart ache. I cried myself to sleep as soon as it sunk in that I was wearing the same shirt I always let her walk around in.

Point is, I failed. I sat up in my little bunk on the bus and I walked to the bathroom. I stared at my tattooed arms. The arms I never got around to let her get a good look at. My chest, fuck, even my toes.

My chance was over. Would I accept that? I pulled the scissors out of the drawer and pulled a piece if hair.

Will I see her again? She might not even love me anymore. I brought my hand holding the scissors and I cut. It's my fault I didn't take action when I saw that son of a bitch standing there.

I cut it so much there wasn't a curl in sight. I pulled out the hair gel. Caroline was the only girl I've made love to. It was more than sex.

New life, new look. No Caroline, no concentration.

If I wanted to feel the smallest bit of satisfaction, the least I can do is get her away from that fucking dad of hers.

I cringed and slammed my hands down thinking of him hurting her. Hurting my fucking Caroline. Mine.

She loved me. The real me. The criminal me. I opened the scissors and slit them across my skin.

The least I could do for her.