Nightlight (on hold)

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Harry and Claire stayed with me for the next few days. Liam came in and out every so often to check on me and report back to Zayn and also to keep Harry in the loop of what was going on at home. Apparently Eleanor needed to stay back to tend to the needs of Zayn and the girls, and Madeleine was her helper. I felt bad that Claire had to sleep in the gross hospital because of me but she insisted that she didn't mind.

Harry had, at that point, announced that he minded, but I told him I didn't really ask about him so. In fact, I informed him that if it was such an inconvenience then he should feel free to leave.

He yelled at me after that one.

Speaking of yelling, apparently my husband was not happy with me. Apparently, I was in for it when I got home.

Honestly, I didn't care. I just wanted to go home and see him and make sure he was alright. Claire and Harry had tried to assure me that he was, but the fact that I had yet to see him was not comforting. The Zayn that I knew would be there the second I woke up and wouldn't leave my side for a single second.

So the fact that he hadn't been in contact with me at all was very nerve-wracking, to say the least.

"Mrs. Malik- excuse me but Mrs. Malik, I cannot release you early unless you listen to all of the instructions for rehabilitation and wound care, or else you'll just-"

"Do not speak to her that way." Harry's voice was harsher than I was expecting. In fact I wasn't expecting him to stand up for me at all. He was quick to get involved, however, and rapidly placed himself in front of me.

"S-sorry." The Doctor's volume dropped many levels from the tone he held before- which wasn't even that bad by the way, he was only trying to get my attention.

"You do not threaten her. She's leaving whether you like it or not. Besides, she doesn't need to know any of the healing process crap because there's a ton of us to take care of her." Harry snarled. Claire stood up quickly and came up to me on the other side of the bed.

She gripped my hand tightly, as if she were trying to reassure me. But I was fine. She's the one who looked nervous, maybe I should be reassuring her.

"Hey cocksucker, bring it down a notch." I called to the curly haired man, who was at that moment towering over the poor Doctor in an intimidation attempt. Well, it seemed to be working so I guess it was more than an attempt.

"Hannah not now, I swear to god." He growled at me without even looking over. I rolled my eyes, but let him do whatever he needed to do.

In less than an hour I was sitting next to Claire in the back of a giant black SUV. Harry was quick in getting my discharge papers and carried me out to the car. When I left the hospital room, I was surprised to find an army of guys who I vaguely recognized.

Ah, so my room had been guarded the entire time.

That makes sense.

I should've expected that.

Harry had carried me out to the car, against my will. I tried to fight him on it, but I was recovering from a major surgery. It hurt when I moved too quickly or twisted my torso too much. Claire was ordered to walk in front of us, so Harry could keep an eye on her too. She didn't protest at all like I would have.

Whatever. One of a kind I guess.

Harry kept turning around to talk to Claire, well flirt with her actually.

"If you're not careful I'll vomit up all my pain medication." I warned obnoxiously.

"What?" Harry looked over to me quizzically.

"You two are being gross. Quit it."

Neither of them heeded my warning. They did not quit it. Gross.

When we pulled up to the house, I felt a familiar pit of nausea in the deep part of my stomach. Claire was helped out of the car carefully, and then Harry came around to me to scoop me up.

"Slow your role asshole I can walk."

"Shut the fuck up." I was picked up gently and brought carefully to his chest. His shirt wasn't buttoned very much so I was eye level with two odd sparrow tattoos. I tried to think of something clever to say, to poke fun at them, but nothing brilliant came. I guess I was too distracted about seeing Zayn.

There was a hoard of people waiting for me at the door. Madeleine, Niall, Eleanor, Louis, Liam, and one or two of the other girls who had been staying with us. Harry curtly asked them to move out of the way, which they did in seconds. I was hoping I got really heavy so Harry would have to put me down simply because he could no longer withstand my weight. But he didn't seem to be struggling at all.

Boo.

"Ok, you can't make any sudden movements because you'll rip your stitching. Zayn already wants to kill you, so don't make it worse. Also, he's pretty banged up too, so don't get too handsy, love." A guard opened the door to my bedroom, which was dark inside. Carefully, I was set down on the mattress.

"She's all yours mate." And with that, the curly haired man left.

"Zayn?" I searched for him in the darkness. Suddenly, the shades were opened, illuminating the room with natural sunlight. I gasped when I saw him, leaning against the wall by the window. He looked over to me, and then stumbled back towards the bed.

If I had seen him on the street, I wouldn't have known it was my husband. He was black and blue, and his face was all swollen. He was wearing baggy clothes, but that didn't hide the limp he walked with, or the way he winced when he moved, or breathed for that matter.

And for the hundredth fucking time that week, I began to cry.

"Are you alright?" He puffed out. Somehow, he managed to get himself sitting right next to me. Carefully, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around my shoulders. He slowly brought me into a hug, cautious not to injure me or himself any further.

"Y-yeah. Are you?" I breathed out between sobs.

"I'm fine. Looks worse than it is. Although Eleanor's been poking and prodding and ordering me around all bloody week." He said gruffly. Kisses were peppered in my hair, and I wanted so bad to kiss him too, but I just clung to his shirt tightly and cried. A large hand rubbed my back soothingly and for a few minutes, we just held each other.

"The Doctor gave me strict instructions with what I can and can't eat." I grumbled once I stopped crying. Zayn pulled back so he could look at me seriously.

"Darlin', you better stick to that. We're gonna be watching you like a hawk because we can't fuck around with your eating, not with your track record at least." I was glad to recognize the fierce warning look he shot me. I was often on the receiving end of it, but it gave me some sense of normalcy.

"I know, I know." I grumbled.

"hey hey, drop the attitude. You got yourself into this mess- which, by the way, we will be discussing once you feel better." I furrowed my brows and shot him an angry look.

"How did I get myself into this mess exactly? It's not like I was shouting for that fucker to shoot me- I-"

"Enough." He silenced. I rolled my eyes and shut up. "How are you feeling?" He asked after a few moments of silence, and in a much calmer tone. I shrugged my shoulders delicately.

"Fine I guess."

That answer was not sufficient enough, according to my husband. I was given that look again.

"Darlin', I'm not in the mood to play around." He warned me lowly, that bossy and alpha male tone returning. I rolled my eyes dramatically at him and let out an extra loud and frustrated sigh, but I did answer him truthfully. As much as I loved to be disobedient and cause problems, I decided that exact moment was not the time.

"I'm fine, really Zayn. But I think it's because of all the meds. I do feel kind of nauseous though, but it's not too bad. Really. As long as I'm doped up, I'm all good." I gave him a pathetic thumbs up to assure him.

His hand reached out and wrapped around my own, to push my thumb down. He leaned forward and left a soft and irresistible kiss on my lips. I wanted to grab him and get more, but I knew neither of us were in the condition for that.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered to me. His stare was heartbreaking. It was one I hadn't seen since I returned from my kidnapping the year before. I felt my eyes water and a few traitor tears spilled over. He reached up to cup my cheek softly in his rough palm and wiped away the stray tears with his thumb pads.

"I thought I lost you too." The most scared I have ever been was when Zayn was on his knees in front of me, about to be executed and for that split second I thought he was the one who was shot. My time with Jay, when Damien held me at gunpoint, even when I realized I was the one with the bullet in me- none of those times rival those few moments I thought Zayn was going to die.

"I love you so much, Darlin'. You're my life. God I love you and I'm so sorry the last year has been rough, but it was getting better and it's only up from here. Do you hear me? I'm going to make everything better." The fiery passion Zayn spoke with was almost tangible.

"As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

"You can't say you're happy now." He responded sadly.

"Yes I am." I retorted quickly.

"Really? Recovering from a bullet wound? From a kidney removal? That's utter bullshit Darlin', and you know it." Zayn didn't sound as fierce as he had a second before, but I didn't miss the angry undertone to his message. There would be no arguing.

"Please. Let's not talk about that right now, ok? I'm feeling tired." He consented almost immediately to my request, just like I knew he would. Anything for my health and safety. Anything I asked.

For hours we just lay in bed and snuggled with each other. Lots of 'I love you's were exchanged and there were lots of light kisses. As it turned out, Zayn was just really bruised up, he had a cracked rib and a sprained ankle, but nothing major. He refused to take pain medication, but Eleanor was certain that a week or two of bed rest would help.

Apparently I was a different story.

Everyone in the fucking house was watching me. Even men whose name I didn't know. I hoped the girls would be lenient with me, but even they were following the instructions strictly. Everyone was still very stressed from the events that had happened about a week before. One Direction had lost men, Louis and Zayn were exposed and so were their girls: it was a big fucking deal.

I, out of everyone, understood that the most.

But I didn't agree that living on lockdown with no fun was the proper response to it. I didn't know what was going on outside the house, what had happened between the Black Devil Cartel and One Direction, but I knew for sure that I wouldn't live in some fun-sucking household.

I vowed (in my head of course because Zayn would kill me if I said those words aloud) that the second I felt better, I would spice things up.

Without jeopardizing my marriage.

I decided to figure how to do that later on.

The next couple days passed similarly. Zayn and I were added to the rounds the girls made. Eleanor would check up on us frequently, Madeleine would bring us food and Claire would come with her. But for the most part it was just the two of us.

And it was nice.

We talked a lot, fought very little, and cuddled most of the time. Zayn was healing exponentially, and even though I felt a little better, they still kept me doped up on pain meds and monitored my every move. I was allowed to take one walk a day, which Harry and Claire helped me with since Zayn's foot was injured, but that was really it.

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