Criminal (punk harry styles)

chapter twenty-nine

Delilah's P.O.V.

Several gasps were heard throughout the room, as well as uncomfortable coughs here and there. I dared a glimpse behind me to see my dad, he was seething in his seat and his face was turning a light shade of red. Harry looked just as shocked as the crowd, maybe even a little bit happy.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Judge Kristen laughed, looking at me like I was a mad woman.

"I said I love him," I repeated with more confidence this time. The judge's eyes turned to slits as she stared me down, I stared right back.

"Alright," she clapped her hands. "What's your case?"

"Harry is innocent," I said as fast as I could.

"Mr. Styles just said-"

"You didn't let him tell you his side of the story," I cut her off, taking her by surprise. "Let him speak."

The judge looked like she was about to explode, obviously nobody had ever dared to stand up to her. "Very well," she managed to say. "Let the defendant speak."

I looked to Harry, who looked to Michael, who looked to the floor, a stern look set on his face. This was his way of plotting, I'd learnt. Taking a good look at Harry, he'd been beaten bad - his forhead had been split open, his eye had a black ring about it and there was dried blood at the borderline of his scalp. Nobody had bothered to clean his wounds, they'd just let him walk around like that. Disgusting.

Harry's eyes darted up to mine, the green now a faded hazel as he stared helplessly into mine. It made my heart ache to stand here and not do anything for him except stand up for him. Given the chance, I would run to him right now and hold him as closely as I could. But I couldn't do that right now.

"Your honour," Michael began, pacing towards where I was standing. "If I may."

"Be my guest," she growled. Michael nodded.

"Miss. Carlton," he turned to me. Now that I could see him close up, he really did resemble Wyatt. "What is Harry like?"
What was this, a coffee date? "He's a wonderful, kind man."

"What do you mean when you say kind?" Michael continued.

"Well, he was there for me when I was alone, he listened to what I had to say. He's very thoughtful, and would never hurt a- well, you know. He's just really wonderful," I smiled to myself.

Michael nodded. "Now, how have things been since Harry began livig with you? What has Harry been doing?"

I thought for a second before answering. "Eating," I shrugged. "And he was sick a few days ago."

"I see," Michael murmured. He turned to the judge. "Your honour, were you aware that Mr. Styles is anorexic?"

"No, I was not." Harry? Anorexic? Why was I not told this?

"It's not on purpose," Michael paced the front of the room. "Mr. Styles has been living underfed in the house his step-father owned. He has not been recieving proper meals for the past 7 years, it's a miracle that he's still alive. I have medical certificates to prove it."

The officer took the yellow papers from Michael and handed them to Judge Kristen, who scanned them briefly before placing them to the side.

"Mr. Gaebs, what does this have to do with the case?" she asked boredly. Michael smirked.

"It shows that the man Harry has been living with has not been treating him properly. This teenage boy has been eating the food portion of a toddler. Who treats someone like that?"

You could tell Michael was becoming more confident with his argument as he continued to tell everyone what Harry's step-father was like.

"In previous relationships, Mr. Carter had been known to be abusive," Michael stated, earning silence from the room. "In the marriages he  had before this one, all four women have claimed that Mr. Carter would beat them to a pulp every night after the first 6 months of marriage, and took everything they owned during the divorce, thus leading him to be so wealthy when he met Ms. Styles."

"What are you getting at, Mr. Gaebs?"

"What I'm getting at, your honour," Michael took off his glasses. "Is that Mr. Styles was not so much attacking Mr. Carter, but rather defending against him."

Whispers were heard behind me, but I didn't turn around. Instead I set my eyes on Harry, who was staring up at the tiled roof. What was he thinking about? His hands were still cuffed behind him, and it was really starting to upset me. He didn't deserve this type of treatment.

"Do you have any proof of this?" Judge Kristen asked.

"Witnesses, your honour," Michael answered calmly.

"Call upon them."

One of the women I spotted in the seats earlier was now making her way to where I stood, and I quickly moved for her to take my place. I took this chance to sneak a spot next to Harry.

"Hey," I whispered to him. He instantly shuffled closer to me.

"Hi."

"What happened to you?" I asked quietly.

"I got beaten up," he shrugged with a smirk. His lips were cracked.

"Miss. Johnson," Michael referred to the frail woman. "You lived next door to Mr. Carter for 4 years. Please tell me, what was it like?"

Miss. Johnson looked terrified to be here. "I-I'd often hear s-screams at night, and I-I'd always s-see Anne come out with b-bruises all over her f-face and arms."

"What do you think caused those bruises?" Michael asked.

"I-I believe it was John," she spoke quietly. "She'd only s-start s-screaming when he came home."

"Did you ever personally meet Mr. Carter?" Michael looked like he was now 100% confident with this, he already had the glint of vitctory in his eyes.

"N-no, I often invited Anne over for t-tea, but she n-never came."

"Is that so," Michael rubbed his chin. After a few minutes of silence, he smiled politely. "Thank you, Miss. Johnson, you may be seated again."

Miss. Johnson scampered back to the seats and Michael called upon someone else, a man this time. He was very large with a scruffy red beard, but he seemed kind.

"Now, Mr. Range. You've been friends with John Carter for a long time, haven't you?"

"That is correct, sir," he replied gruffly. He glanced over at Harry and I, a look of something like sympathy in his eyes.

"What was Mr. Carter like?"

"He was never really happy," Mr. Range answered hesitantly. "He always seemed angry, especially when it came to women. I never personally met his wife Anne, but he always claimed he hated her at work, said she was a real pain according to him."

"Did it ever seem like he'd hit a woman?"

"It didn't seem like he wouldn't," Mr. Range scratched his beard nervously.

"Thank you, Mr. Range."

The man returned just as Miss. Johnson had, but much more calmly. The judge, who had sat silently during the two different conversations, now turned to Michael. "Is that all?" she demanded.

"I still have one more," Michael grinned, and the door down the back swung open to reveal a woman with dark brown hair and pale skin. She was dressed nicely in a dark blue dress and black heels, but she looked absolutely restless. When her eyes landed on Harry and I, they filled with tears, but she didn't say a word. I heard Harry beside me suck in a sharp breath, a word filled with so much pain leaving his mouth.

"Mum."

(a/n: decided I'd type up another one. (: Alot of people are saying they want a Harry pov, so I was thinking maybe once I finish Criminal I might write another book in Harry's pov, that'll start a little earlier in his life before Delilah and then continue with the chapters in his eyes. Yes or no? Love you all. ♡)