Brutality | Harry Styles

Chapter 12

"Melody, let's just go home," Bea had begged her. "No one's able to bail him out until morning and it's not like you could afford it, anyway."

"No," Melody had said, shaking her head. "You go home. I'll wait until morning and at least figure out how much his bail is."

That idea had sounded like a good one to her buzzed mind until she had spent hours in a chair at the police department. Melody had fallen asleep three times, using her jacket as an ineffective blanket. Her neck felt stiff. She was hungry and thirsty and bored when Harry was suddenly rounding the front desk, looking exhausted and annoyed. His eyes met hers for only a moment before he stopped in front of a man standing at the desk.

"Mr. Goodman," Harry said.

Melody sat up straight. She hadn't even noticed the man enter the building, probably because she had been nodding off. She looked him over now. He seemed in his late forties, perhaps a bit older. He was dressed well, neatly and expensively, wearing a heavy coat. He looked at Harry with a hard stare.

"This is because you're my money-maker," Goodman said. His voice was gruff. "I can't afford to have you locked up or going to court. Leave the fights for the ring. Keep yourself in check."

Melody sank back into her chair as he turned to look at her.

"As for the girl," Goodman said, speaking to Harry again, "all is forgiven. Just don't give my stupid nephew any more shit. You hear me?"

Harry nodded gently. "Yes, sir."

Melody had never seen Harry act so respectfully before. She couldn't find it in herself to respond when Goodman nodded to her as he left. Harry lowered his eyes to the floor and sighed. Melody stood finally and followed him as he strode across the room, pushing through the doors and into the open air.

"What are yeh doin' here?" Harry asked when she caught up to him.

"I was going to try to bail you out when they set it but—"

"Why would yeh do tha'?"

Melody shrugged her arms into her jacket and strode alongside Harry as he started down the sidewalk. She frowned deeply.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Ruined your birthday, didn' I?" Harry asked. He hadn't looked directly at her. She wanted to reach for him, to slip her fingers through his, but she knew that it wasn't a good idea.

"A little bit, yes," she agreed. She watched his jaw tighten. "Why did you have to start a fight?"

"Didn' start a goddamn fight," Harry snapped. He turned at the end of the block, heading toward the north side. It was still dark out, barely six in the morning. Melody could feel the cold sweeping into her skin. She wondered if Harry was cold, too.

"So, he started it?"

"Yes, he started it."

"Why would a stranger start a fight with you in the middle of a club?"

"He wasn' a stranger," Harry said, finally turning to look at her. His eyes weren't kind. "Beat him in a fight once. 'S it tha' hard t'believe I was defendin' m'self?"

Melody shrugged. "I mean, you seemed really angry before—"

"'S b'cause yeh were assumin' things, jus' like yeh are now." He shook his head and turned another corner. His pace was fast. They were already very close to his apartment. "He threw the first punch. 'M not gonna apologize for wha' happened."

Melody sighed. She was silent for a few moments. "I didn't ask you to apologize."

Harry didn't reply. They were already turning into the alley where his flat was located. He still hadn't spoken when he twisted the door unlocked and walked inside. He didn't hold the door open, but Melody followed him inside anyway.