𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋! | harry styles

𝐈𝐕

WITH Cody on my hip, I take the stairs two at a time, my legs burning and my arms aching with his weight. I fumble with the keys for a moment, my heart beating a million miles a minute and my hands sweating. Finally, the door opens and I push Cody through, closing it behind us, and dead bolting it before sliding the chain lock into place.

I rest a shaking hand on the door and lift up onto my toes to look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. When I'm satisfied there's no one there, I lower myself from my tiptoes and press my head to the front door, exhaling shakily.

I hate that those assholes know where I live.

I hate that Nick can spread his filth to the one place I feel safe.

Most of all, I hate that all I could do was run.

I'm torn between fear and anger, and the urge to stay and keep an eye on Cody is almost crushed by the need to run downstairs and unload my anger into that guy's face.

Instead, I stand rooted to a spot just inside my front door, shaking and trying not to cry.

When I turn around a moment later, Cody is still behind me, his fists balled in the material of his sweater. His blue eyes swim with unshed tears, and whatever anger is still simmering inside of me is quickly washed away, replaced with guilt. The last thing I want is for Cody to be upset by what happened, and here I am freaking out right in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, I reach out a hand for his. "Come on," I say, sounding calmer than I feel. "Let's see what we can do about dinner."

I cook for us both, and do my best to stick to our Monday night routine for Cody's sake. As I do though, I keep an ear trained on the hallway outside of my apartment, listening for Harry. But I don't hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, or the sound of his door slamming shut, and the continuing silence is somehow worse.

Cody eats his meal quietly, his expression more serious than it should be when faced with a bowl of green Jell-o. When he's finished, we pack his backpack, readying it for the next day, and then brush his teeth before getting him ready for bed.

He's sitting in his underwear when the questions start.

"Did the mean man go away, Momma?" he asks as I slip him into his pajamas.

I nod, wriggling his shirt down over his stomach. "Yeah. He's gone, baby."

"Why did he make you sad, Momma?"

"Well, he said some not nice things to me, and it made me sad. Kind of like when Ryan said mean things to you at preschool, remember?"

Cody nods somberly.

"But I'm not sad anymore, because I have you and you make me happy again."

"I do?"

"Yeah you do. You're my favorite."

Cody smiles a toothy grin. "You're my favorite too, Momma. Even more than Steven."

I gasp dramatically. "More than Steven the dinosaur?"

"More!"

He giggles as I run a finger up the length of his foot, and the sound eases a little of the tension inside of me. "Well that must be a lot then."

Cody continues to get ready for bed, wrestling with his socks and slippers. Kneeling at the side of his bed, I watch him, that familiar little crease between his brows wrinkling the skin there. "Will he come back?" he asks, wiggling his toes into a yellow sock.

"I don't know," I say truthfully. Cody lifts each foot as I slip them into his favorite dinosaur slippers. I look up at him, into his bright blue eyes. "But you know you're safe here, right? You know that nothing bad will happen to you?"