Harry Styles. BSM, DDM.

Taken. Ddm. Part 2.

Taken. Part 2. Ddm.

Harry age 4.

Harry's pov.

Dead. If you were to ask me how I feel right now, that'd be my answer. Dead.

All I can think about while I'm sitting in this holding cell is Y/N. Where is she? Who is she with? Is she safe? I can imagine her sitting by herself on a chair, crying while the adults around her are talking and not paying any mind to the child that's crying because they took her away from her father.

They said I get one phone call. I called my mother. She will definitely know what to do. I heard a loud buzz before the cell door was slid open.

"You have a visitor." The scruffy voice of the officer said and I stood up, turned around and let him cuff me before walking out to the visitors room. I saw my mum sitting there with tears in her eyes. I was sat down across from her and the officer uncuffed me before he stood off to the side.

"Harry are you ok?" My mum asked and I nodded softly.

"Do you know where Y/N is?" I asked her quietly and she sighed sadly.

"They wouldn't tell me. All they said was that she was in a safe place. That's bullshit because she was safe with you. Those idiots only get off by taking away people's happiness because they have none in their own lives." My mom hissed venomously, the officer glanced at her before diverting his gaze to the ground.

"Mum.." I trailed off and placed my hand over hers.

"No! You do not and have never laid a hurtful hand on Y/N! You know, I know and Y/N knows that Harry! You would never hurt a child, I brought you up not to. We are going to fight them on this and we are going to get Y/N back with you, where she belongs." She said in a final tone. I nodded and looked down at the table.

"I got you the best lawyer I could find in these types of situations. She assures me that she's going to do everything and anything in her power to prove these people wrong and get you your daughter back. She hates it when someone is wrongfully accused of something this sick." I nodded again. I believed her. I just hope she's right.

Your pov.

"I want my daddy." You said as you walked up to Shelby's desk and placed your hands on it. Only your eyes and top of your head visible to her.

"Your daddy is right where he needs to be." She said without looking up from her papers.

"I want my daddy." You said again with your voice cracking and tears filling your eyes.

"Well you're not getting him." She shook her head and that's when your dam broke and the tears, again, freely rolled down your cheeks.

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Did someone spit in your coffee Shelby? Bitch.