Truth or Dare (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

A/N: I won't do this every chapter, I promise! But ANOTHER before the chapter author's note. For those of you wondering, the italics are a flashback.

Harry's POV

Why the hell is it every time she pisses me off I lose my head? She didn't even do anything this time. I told her something I've never told anybody, not even my mum. All she was doing was trying to explain to me that, yes, it was a very big deal. Even though I don't want any kids, I'm sure Bridgette does. I'm not giving her any damn kids, I'm sure she knows that.

"Mum," I call when I see her setting the table. She turns around smiling, but it slowly vanishes when I sit on the chair, elbows rested on my knees and my face in my hands.

"What did you do now?" Her tone is disapproving. Fuck, do I wish I could stop disappointing everybody.

"I did it again. I hit her," I pick my head up to meet my mothers worried face.

"Harry, control yourself. You know that little girl isn't going to stick around forever if you keep on."

"I don't want her to stick around forever. She means nothing to me. "I argue.

"Now you know better. You tell me she means nothing and then I catch you making out in your room. At the airport you barely let her out of your sight. You held her hand all the way home and I see the way you stare at her, Lustful." I shake my head, she's outside of her mind.

"I think you're in love with her, Harry." No sign of joking in her expression as she says this.

"You're fucking crazy. I don't love her. The only reason I haven't put her out on the streets is because she'll probably run straight to the cops." Fuck, I'm a terrible liar.

"You can't hide the rest of your life, Harry. You know everything you have on your conscious and one day, they'll find you. I mean, it was really stupid to come back to England." I slam my fist against the table a stand up, staring my mother in the eye.

"I had no other choice!" I shout, my father walking through the door. Ignoring him, I continue. "I wasn't safe in America and I'm not safe here."

"You won't be safe anywhere! Go fucking turn your ass in. I mean it. You can't sit around doing nothing for the rest of your damn life. Eventually, they'll find out everything and you will go to prison for a long damn time. You'll die in there. Get off your lazy ass and do something with yourself besides letting your anger out on that little girl in there and running from everybody. You can't put your problems onto other people, Harry. I've raised you better than that." Her voice escalates, my father listening from the couch.

"Raised me? You think you raised me right! It's your fault I'm like this. I'm nothing, I'm worthless. You even said so yourself." The color drowns from her face as she wipes away a tear.

"Damn it, you know I didn't mean that! I was hurt, Harry. You killed a part of me when you killed him. I loved him, and you took your bare hands and choked him to death right in the fucking living room !" She screams. I really hope Bridgette doesn't hear this. Tears pour down her cheeks and immediately, I feel bad. Me and my mother never had a close relationship, but even though we're screaming and yelling at each other, we're closer than ever.

Another man follow my mother into the house. All I can do, is sit and watch as he grabs her by the waist, flipping her around and smashing his lips to hers. This one looks familiar, I'm sure I've seen his here multiple time. Which is unusual, because she never brings them back twice.

"Go to your room kid," the man pants. Stubborn, I cross my arms.

"I don't want to go." I mistakingly say. His mouth leaves my mothers and he shoots daggers at me, evilly laughing.