Chapter 21

Elena’s POV:


            I frowned as to why Harry was taking so long to get the door. Pushing myself from off the couch, I walk to where the front door was. I stopped short when I saw Harry’s back as he faced the person at the door. “Haz?” I ask, biting my bottom lip.


            Harry turns around to look at me, his green eyes hard. My eyes travel over to the man standing at the door as he looks at me. The man raises his eyebrows as he looks at me, and then looks back at Harry. “Got yourself a girl, aye?” he asks Harry.


            The man was big with shaggy dark brown hair and pale green eyes. He had this intimidating look to him, like he wasn’t afraid of anything. I gulped lightly as Harry looked back at the man. “What are you doing here?” he spits out.


            “What? I can’t visit my son?” the man smirks, raising an eyebrow.


            My eyes widen as he says that. Son? This was Harry’s dad, Des? I suddenly felt uncomfortable under Harry’s dad’s gaze. I was only wearing Harry’s boxers and shirts, and it kind of looked like something it wasn’t. I bit my bottom lip as my right palm pressed against the wall as Harry glared at his father.


            “When did you get released?” Harry asked, ignoring Des’s previous question.


            “A couple of days ago,” Des shrugged, walking into the house without being invited as Harry turned around to look at him. “Thought I’d drop by.” He then walked over to me, and I felt smaller in size than I did with Harry. “Hello there. I’m Des,” he smirks at me. See, when Harry does it, it’s sexy. But when it’s his dad, it’s just downright creepy. “What’s your name?”


            “Elena,” I say in a small, quiet voice.


            “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Des muses.


            Harry makes his way over to us, and pushes me behind him. He was almost the same height as Des, about only an inch shorter. Being in front of both of them together made me feel like a freaking ant.


            “Stay away from her,” Harry literally growled at his father.


            Des’s face suddenly changed, going from calm to anger in a blink of an eye. He then grabbed a fist full of Harry’s shirt, pulling him clother to his face as a gasp escapes my lips in shock of Des’s actions. “You don’t tell me what to do, buddy,” Des spits out. I watch in fear as Harry’s jaw clenches. “I’m stronger than you. Stay in line.”


            He releases Harry forefully, slamming his back into the wall, making the picture frames hung up on the wall rattle. “Fuck,” Harry muttered as he fell.


            “I’ll be back later to visit your mother,” Des announces, before walking out and slamming the door shut.


            As soon as he leaves, I run over to Harry, crouching down in front of him. “Are you okay?” I ask worriedly.


            Harry nods, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he leans his head back against the wall. “Bastard,” he mutters.


            It’s sad to see the rough relationship Harry has with his dad. My relationship with my own father is nothing compared to Des and Harry’s. Des actually picked up and slammed his own son against the wall, wherelse my dad only slapped me. I’m not saying that that’s okay, but you can only physically harm your kid so much. Even at that, you shouldn’t do something like that. It damages them, and I don’t mean just physically.


            “Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand. “Stand up.”


            “I’m fine on the floor,” Harry grumbles, pulling my hand from his grip. I bite my bottom lip, and then sit down on the floor next to him. My left shoulder brushed against his upper right arm as we sit in silence. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Harry’s husky voice broke the silence.


            “Don’t apologize,” I say, turning my head to the left to look at him. “It’s not your fault.”


            He nods slightly, before letting out a breath. “I can’t have him anywhere near Mum.”


            “Is Des the reason why you’re so skeptical of Robim?” the question rolls off my tongue before I could stop myself. “Because you’re afraid that Robin will treat her the way Des did?”


            Harry sighs and nods. “My mum has already been through a lot of shit dealing with Des. Plus, she has the burden of caring for me when all I do is get into fights and –”


            “You’re not a burden,” I cut him off incredulously, shocked that he would say such a thing. “You’re her son, Harry. Anne loves you with all her heart. You’re not a burden, trust me.”


            Harry just shakes his head, curly hair ruffling. “I know it hurts her to see me get myself into trouble. She’s disappointed in me.”


            I look at him, eyes widening. “Why would you say that?” I ask. “Who bloody cares if you get into fights, or go out and drink? Jesus, Harry, I feel like I have this conversation with you at least a hundred times.” I let out a sigh, running a hand through my somewhat wet hair. “You’re letting what your dad said get to you, aren’t you?”


            “What? No!” Harry quickly defended. I give him a look and he sighs. “Fine, maybe I am. But it’s just because he showed up so suddenly. Otherwise I wouldn’t have cared.”


            I give him a small smile. “Well, we can’t let him get to Anne,” I tell him. “Maybe you should call her up and tell her to go out with Robin? That way she won’t be home when Des comes by again.”


            Harry nods, and then holds his arms out. “Help me up.”


            I scoff and roll my eyes as I stand up. Holding his large hands in my small ones, I pull him up. Even though he did most of the work because face it, there’s no way in the world that I would ever be able to pull him up. We entered the living room as Harry grabbed his phone and texted Anne, as I looked at my own phone.


            “Okay, she’s out for the night,” Harry says, putting his phone away. “But we’re still gonna have to face Des later.”


            I smirk mischeviously. “Not if we trick him.”


            Harry smirks, arms lacing around my waist as he pulls me closer, looking down at me. “How do you suppose we do that?”


            “Well,” I stretch out the word, wrapping my arms around Harry’s neck and lacing them together. “We can lock all of the doors, pull the curtains, turn off all lights, and watch movies in your room,” I smirk, looking into his green eyes.


            Harry’s smirk widens. “I like the way you think, Carter,” he says. “You pick out the movie, I’ll take care of things down here.”


            I grin as I peck his lips quickly and run up the stairs and into his room. Entering it, I looked around to where Harry kept his DVDs. Once I saw them in his book case, I walked over and looked at the different options he had – which were a lot. My eyes widened when I saw certain movies in the back. He had The Last Song, Love Actually, When In Rome, and my personal favorite, Dear John. As soon as I had grabbed that movie, Harry had walked into the room.


            “Did you pick out a movie?” he asks me.


            I smile as I turn to him. “Who knew you are such a romantic at heart?” I grin, holding up the movie.


            Harry’s eyes flicker to the movie I was holding and he shook his head. “Oh, no. We’re not watching that movie.”


            “Aw, why not?” I pout. “What, are you afraid that you’re gonna cry?” I ask in a teasing tone.


            Harry scoffs. “No,” he says indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you only want to watch that movie because you think Channing Tatum is hot.”   


            “No!” I defend myself, and he raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe a little,” I say, smiling. I walk over to him, pouting. “Please can we watch this? Pleaaasseeee?”


            Harry looks at me and then groans. “Fine,” he says. “But you’re putting it in.”


            I roll my eyes as he jumps on his bed. Walking over to the DVD player, I put the movie in and sit lay down on the bed next to Harry. The movie started and I rested my head on Harry’s chest as we watched it, my eyes fixed to the screen as I watched Channing Tatum.


            “Stop drooling,” Harry’s teasing voice says.


            I lift my head up and glare at him. “I was not drooling,” I say.


            “Mhm, yeah okay,” Harry says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. I huff as I continue to watch the movie, but sit away from Harry. “Really, babe?” Harry chuckles. “We’re playing this game?” I ignore him, keeping my eyes on the screen. I then feel the bed shift as Harry movies closer to me. “You know, you’re really hot when you’re mad,” his husky voice whispers in my right ear, sending shivers down my spine.


            I bite my bottom lip softly, trying to keep my focus on the screen. It doesn’t work very well because I feel Harry’s teeth nibbling on my earlobe, making my breath hitch. “Harry, stop,” I say breathlessly.


            “Mmm,” he hums, his lips going from my ear to under it, kissing down the skin.


            Harry’s warm lips start kissing down my neck as he turns me so I’m facing him, and his lips travel further down as he leaves kisses on my exposed collarbone. “For fuck’s sake,” I groan, grabbing his face and smashing our lips together.


            He smirks against my lips, pleased to see that I gave in as I took in his bottom lip with my teeth. Our lips moved together as Harry grabbed my legs and placed them on either side of him so I was straddeling him as I kissed him.


            It seems like all we’ve been doing is having make out sessions. And really, I didn’t mind at all.




            The movie, Dear John, was about to end when someone started ringing the doorbell. Harry and I sat up on his bed, looking at each other as the doorbell kept ringing. “It must be Des,” Harry says quietly.


            Des keeps ringing the doorbell, not stopping until someone opens the door, I guess. Harry stands up from the bed and I look at him in alarm. “What are you doing?” I ask him in a rush.


            “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m just going down the stairs. The curtains are closed so he can’t see inside.”


            “I’m coming with you,” I say, also standing up. “This is getting creepy.”


            Harry chuckles and nods, and the two of us quietly walk down the stairs. As we do, not only can we hear the continuous ringing of the doorbell, but we can also hear the loud knocking on the door and Des’s voice from the other side.


            “I know you’re in there, Harold,” Des’s voice calls out. “Come on, bud, I just wanna see ya again. Is that so wrong?”


            I look at Harry as he simply glares at the door, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I hold his hand, and he looks down at me with a small, one dimpled smile on his face. It’s weird doing this, sitting inside a dark house as we wait for Harry’s father to go away. Safe to say that I have never done anything like this before.


            Des suddenly pounds the door hard, making me jump slightly in shock as Harry gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Fine then!” Des barks. “If you’re not letting me in now, I’ll come by later. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, I don’t know. See you then, son.”


            My eyes widen as I hear a car door slam and an engine revving up, before the screeching of tires as Des drives away. “Crazy bastard,” Harry mutters, letting out a breath.


            I rub Harry’s upper arm as I bite my bottom lip. As ‘calm’ as that was, it was pretty scary and awful. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down at it. I smiled slightly as I see a picture of Tyler and I and his name flashing on my screen.


            “Hey, Ty,” I smile as I answer him.


            Instead of my brother’s usual cheery voice, I hear my brother’s angry and outraged voice. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Mum and Dad were getting a divorce?”  


            Ah, shit.