I'm Broken {Harry Styles}

Chapter 4

| Lacey's POV |

"Can I get you anything else?" I asked my customers.

"No, thanks, just the check when you get a chance," one of them replied. I smiled before walking over to the counter.

Once they had paid and left, I grabbed my coat and said goodbye to Meg and Bella, who were closing up. I began to embark on my short journey home. I hummed along to a song that was playing in the restaurant, I believe it was Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars.

About halfway through my walk along the dark streets, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID and it was an unknown number.

"Hello?" I asked into the receiver.

"Hey there Sweetheart," they replied. I instantly knew it was Harry by the raspy voice and the pet name he used for me.

"What do you want Harry? How did you even get my number?" I scoffed, irritated that he had to ruin my night.

"Well I was bored and decided to call and I got your number from Zayn's phone when he left it for me to watch while it was charging in the airport when he went to the lou," he replied, as if it was so obvious.

"Why was Zayn in the airport?" I asked.

"Oh, he didn't tell you? Well, well, Mr. Loveryboy is keeping secrets. Isn't this a fun twist of events?" He toyed with me.

"Shut up and just answer the question," I demanded, growing weary of his behaviour.

"Ooh, feisty, I like it. Anyways, he's going to New York for a few days, I don't know exactly why," he chuckled.

"Okay? Well, if that's all, goodbye," I said and hung up before he had the chance to say anything else. The phone rang again but I just ignored it and stepped onto my porch. I reached into my purse to grab my keys and unlocked the front door. Inside was quiet, so that meant Dylan wasn't home, yet. I scampered into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Once I got out I changed into pajamas and brushed my teeth before hopping into bed. I looked over to the clock to see it read 11:32pm. I must have taken a longer shower than I thought. I snuggled into my blankets and quickly fell asleep.

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I awoke to a crash from the other room, then loud, slurred cursing. I shot upright into a sitting position and huddled up against the headboard.

"LACEY!" Dylan's angry voice screamed from across the house. "COME CLEAN THIS SHIT UP!"

I sat in bed, not sure if I should go clean it up or not. I didn't want to go out there but I also didn't want him to come force me to clean it up. I hoped he would fall asleep and forget about it, until I heard loud footsteps coming to my door. The door opened and crashed against the wall. Before me stood Dylan, also known as the worst excuse of a "father" ever known. He was clad in a stained gray t-shirt and ripped black sweatpants. His gray hair sat wildly upon his head.

"Lacey, you little bitch," he began as he stepped inside my room. I shook with fear as he continued walking towards me, swaying as he did so. He now stood at the edge of my bed. "Clean up the mess in the fucking kitchen before I fucking kill you!" He screeched. He walked over to the side of the bed and lifted his hand. A slap, so powerful, landed across my cheek. You could hear it echo throughout the house. Tears were brought to my eyes and my hands went up to the injured area. I looked up at Dylan and he looked like he was ready to hit me again.

I shrunk back further into the mattress, too scared to move. His hand came up again, only this time he punched me. Again and again, all over my legs, arms, and face. His powerful hits threw me onto the floor where I began to slowly crawl over to the kitchen to clean up after him.