I'm Broken {Harry Styles}

Chapter 28

| Lacey's POV |

The smell of bacon invaded my senses. I sat up from my position on the couch, immediately regretting moving so quickly and placed a hand over my still injured gut. I groaned from the pain and lied back down. I heard footsteps thumping over to the couch.

"Breakfast!" Harry exclaimed while setting a plate down on the coffee table. I just grunted in response, shutting my eyes. "Pain killers included." At that I opened an eye to perk up at him. He had two little pills in one hand and a glass of water in another.

I carefully sat up and reached out for the pills and water, quickly swallowing. Harry set down a little tray on my lap. On it, there was a plate of chocolate chip pancakes, a side plate of bacon, syrup and, to drink, a glass of orange juice. I smiled up at Harry, who was grinning at me cheekily. "Thank you, Harry. This looks great," I graciously accepted. He nodded and sat down on the other side of the couch. "Why aren't you eating?" I asked.

"I ate while I was waiting for you to get up. You do realize it's past ten?" He said. I looked at the digital clock on the cable box to see that it was 10:23.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to sleep so late," I apologized.

"You couldn't control it. It's not your fault, Lacey. You need to stop apologizing so much," he spoke, looking towards me.

"I just can't help but feel that everything is my fault," I mumbled, not intending for him to hear.

Harry let out a large sigh. "Lacey Johnson, I am going to make you confident in your own skin, no matter what it takes," he claimed. Confidence was scattered throughout his tone. If only he could really do that...

"Speaking of, I should get going, I have to be somewhere," Harry changed the topic.

"Where do you have to be?" I questioned in a small voice, while taking a bite of the delicious pancake.

"Ah, nowhere of importance. I had already made the plans and it's too late to cancel," he explained.

"Um, do you think I should, you know, go home?" I unsurely asked.

"Go home? Why would you want to go home?" Harry looked somewhat angered or offended.

"Well, I've been here for about a week already, and Dylan doesn't like it when I'm gone..." I trailed off.

"Why does it matter what Dylan thinks? You're here and you're safe. What else matters?"

"Quite a lot matters, actually. The longer I stay away, the worse it will be when I get back."

"Well who said anything about you going back?" He got even angrier at this.

"It's not like I can stay here forever. Besides, Dylan will find me, he always does," I muttered the last part in hopes he wouldn't hear.

"What do you mean he will find you? Does he have a tracking device or something?"

"I don't know, he just knows people. He's friends with cops, who would have access to any information, and he knows where I go and what I do. He's friends with people who live around town that could easily find me," I tried explaining.

"But that's not right. He can't just keep you hostage!"

"Apparently he can," I sighed.

"I'm going to find a way to keep you safe. But right now, I really must go. You stay here and don't do anything stupid." He got up and shrugged on his coat and his shoes.

"The longer I'm away, the worse it'll be when he finds me!" I called out as he was walking out the front door.

| Harry's POV |