The Bad Boy Hit Me In The Face With A Baseball Bat (COMPLETED)

Chapter 69- Good boy

Flynn P.O.V:

Watching Harley sit on her bed and cry made me feel horrible. I lost so much family that I forgot what it was like to lose someone close to me. And this was her first.

I held her hand, but she quickly moved it away.

"I'm tired,"she laid down tucking her hand under her pillow and shutting her eyes. A tear ran across her nose and I wiped it away.

I slowly laid beside her. Tears filled my eyes. "Harley,"I put my hand on her cheek.

She opened her eyes. "Don't cry, Flynn,"she put her forehead against mine.

"I know it's hard,"I quickly wiped my eyes,"I've lost a lot of people..not only through death....And even though I don't believe in the afterlife..I know that your grandfather has it better off than most of the people I've lost....He's getting to say goodbye to everyone he loves."

She started sobbing.

"Heck! He has a bucket list for Pete's sake."

She giggled then frowned.

"You know what I think?,"I lifted her chin with my finger.

She looked into my eyes.

"I think he wants you to act normal with him. Don't make this an emotional stay for him, okay?"

She nodded then curled up in my arms. "Thank you, Flynn."

"For what?"

"Being here."

"I love you, Harley."

She didn't answer, which was expected. Her breathing slowed down, she drifted off into sleep and I began to weep.

I squeezed her, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Flynn,"Mr. Branson stood in the doorway.

I quickly sat up letting go of Harley. "Yes sir?"

He stood with folded arms.

"I was just leaving,"I stood wiping my cheeks with my sleeves.

"No."

I froze.

Mrs. Branson walked into the room with a sleeping bag. She put it on the floor.

"You're staying here..with Harley,"Mr. Branson looked at his daughter. "As much as I hate having you in her room, I know you're a good kid...and she needs you..sadly. Keep the door open." He walked away.

Mrs. Branson smiled at me. "Thank you for being here for her,"she cried.

"She already thanked me."

"..You said..you loved her."

I felt butterflies in my stomach. "You heard that?"

"Curtis and I were actually standing there for most of it."

"Uh..,"I pushed my hands in my pockets and looked at the far corner of the room.

She put her hand on my shoulder. "I know that your a good boy, Flynn. I really hope she sees it too." She walked out of the room. "Oh and leave the door-"

"Open..Heard Mr. Branson the first time."

*  *  *
I woke up the next morning to find Harley's bed empty. I had been waking up all night to see how she was doing. She slept the entire night.

I walked down the stairs with a smile. Even though I found out that the grim reaper was limiting Harley's grandfather's days, her parents liked me..and trusted me. And that was enough to make me smile. Plus I woke up to happy music.

I looked at Grandpa Branson. He was in the living room with a bottle of rum in his hand and a bunch cigarettes on the center table.

"He's taking death well,"I mumbled scratching my head.

I walked into the kitchen. Harley stood with her grandmother. Her face lit up when she saw me.

Her grandmother gave me the "eyes" so I decided to greet them, change the weird, sad mood and bounce.

As I walked out of the room I heard Grandma Branson's voice.

"I hate that little boy. He's likable."

I got her entire family to like me..except the drunk one in the living room. I wasn't going to even attempt to hold a conversation with him.

*  *  *
After stopping by my house and getting changed I sat at the dining table with Harley and her grandparents. 

I couldn't strop staring at the weird shaped thing on my plate.

"How'd you sleep?,"Harley said with a smile.

"Pretty good,"I looked at her. "How about you?" 

"I didn't sleep at all."

"You slept,"I said quickly hoping she didn't hear me. "Uh..,"I furrowed my brows and pointed at the thing on my plate with the fork.

"A pancake,"Harley leaned over my shoulder and whispered.

"That doesn't look like a pancake,"I looked at her.

She giggled.

"Hold hands,"grandma Branson commanded us.

I obeyed my orders confused as to what I was doing. Then it clicked to me. We were about to pray. I was fine with it until she squeezed my hand.

"Flynn?"

I looked at her.

"Please say the grace."

I was just getting her to like me and I was about to screw it up with a prayer. The last time I said "grace" was when my dad was in the picture,  when I was praying that my parents wouldn't divorce. He didn't answer, obviously. But I had to pray for the breakfast. "Dear God, thanks for the breakfast. We owe you, Amen." I grabbed my fork and started digging in. For burnt flour the pancakes actually tasted like.. pancakes.

I looked up.

Everyone was staring at me.

"What kind of prayer was that?,"grandma Branson titled her head and furrowed her brows. "We owe you?"

"Uh.."

Harley giggled.

"I'll pray for us,"Harley's drunk grandfather volunteered.

I sighed.

"Well that was embarrassing,"Harley put her head on my shoulder and mumbled.

I smiled.