Chapter 22         Niall POV                          Day 27 of Tour: Topeka      

That next morning we were up rather early. We all shared a pretty tiny room that echoed, so when Harry had rolled out of his super small twin with a thud it startled everyone awake.

“Who ordered the egg whites?” Zayn tried at his best Italian accent as he stood above the stove top.

Charlotte waved her hand in the air with a yawn. She walked in from the living room, scratching the underside of her chin. Her fingers drew away blood.

She sat next to me at the table. “What happened?” I used pad of my index to lift her face so I could take a peak.

Her hand pushed me away rather irritably. “It’s nothing,” she snapped.

Whatever it was it was something important. She didn’t overreact like that over “nothing”.

Zayn wandered up carrying a steaming pan. He flipped a paper plate in front of Charlotte and slid her egg onto it. From his apron pocket he dished a fork and dashed some salt and pepper. She thanked him with a sweet smile as he went back to the kitchen to pretend to play chef.

I stared at her.

Her fork stopped midair. “What?”

“I was just wondering why you were being so secretive.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!” Liam called from the living room.

I gave her a knowing smile. “See? He knows.”

Charlotte stuffed her bite of egg in between her perfectly straight diamond white teeth. “It’s just a scratch.”

“And…” I prompted.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I started scratching a lot last night in my sleep.”

I stared at her blankly. “What? Why?”

Charlotte set her fork down. It made her stomach flip to think about whatever it was. “I had nightmares.”

“You itch when you have bad dreams?”

She shook her head as if clearing away the thoughts, “Only when they’re about my dad.” Charlotte slowly started to eat her breakfast and pretended not to notice or care that I was staring. My eyes wandered to the few red spots on her. One was under her chin, another on her wrist, her upper arm, and a familiar spot on her upper thigh.

I licked my finger and slowly smeared the blood from the spot on her leg. She feigned a look of nonchalance. As my thumb cleared away the mess I saw the puffy line of a scar that ran about an inch. I did the same to the spot on the upper arm. A little circular mark of pink flesh was revealed.

I swallowed heavily.

“A cigarette burn?”

Her silence told me I had guessed right.

“How come I haven’t noticed some of these before, Charlotte?”

Charlotte could tell how upset I was. Under her breath she muttered, “Sometimes I wear concealer.”

I closed my eyes and tried to leave the subject alone. I remembered a private conversation with Ms. Hemming the day before we left Oregon, warning me about these things.

“She doesn’t like to talk about it; tries to deny it ever even happened. I tried to get her to talk to a therapist. But she just stared at the wall throughout the entire session. Not to mention she got angry at me. Wouldn't talk to me for weeks.”

“So, he would… beat her?” Liam had asked. He was there only because Ms. Hemming knew we were the closest to Charlotte.

Ms. Hemming took a very long sip of her morning cup of coffee. “Yes. Things like that. Whenever he was drunk. Her father would come after me and after I was senseless moved onto his innocent little girl.”

“And there was nothing you could do?” Anger edged into Liam’s protective tone.

“You don’t understand. He was a crazy man. I knew there was no escaping until he had moved onto some other project. Once he found himself another broad I left a check on his nightstand and disappeared. It wasn’t until recently that he resurfaced.”

“Where did he come from?” I had asked.

“He moved to Canada after we left. On his way in from Washington he got into an accident with some hooker. They were both under the influence, not to mention out of their minds.” She laughed hardly. “Charlotte thought that the accident could change him. The poor thing grasped to her dream of always wanting a father. She doesn’t give up easily.” Ms. Hemming wiped her tired face. It wasn’t until that moment that I really realized how drained and weary she looked. “Charlotte’s scared. Don’t let that pretty face of hers fool you. She’s terrified and she’s damaged. Nothing can ever heal those scars that horrible man gave that sweet little angel.”

“ORDER UP!” Zayn’s awful Italian accent broke my flashback. I stared down at the plate of scrambled eggs he had tossed in front of me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Sure thing.” He replied to me before screaming across the rental apartment at Hazza. “HARRY! Get your lazy ass off of that couch and come get your freaking breakfast I slaved over!”

“Jesus I’m COMING!”

I glanced over at my sweet little angel that sat next to me. She dabbed her face with a cloth napkin before setting it back on the table.

A small crescent scar showed under her chin.

“What’s that from?” I asked. I remember when we had first met she told me it was from-

“A biking accident.”

I knew she was lying. Just like she told the kids at school in her 4th year that she had been hit with a baseball. It was obvious that this mark meant more to her than the rest did. I wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers because I wanted to do everything in my power to help her feel better; but I just had to take a seat and wait until she was ready to tell me everything. And we were so close to getting there.

“Okay.”

Harry came in from the living room behind us. He took his plate of food and after a few seconds he went back to watch TV with the others.

“You should have woken me up last night. Or Liam. Hell, you could have woken up any one of us Charlotte. We would have helped you.”

Charlotte looked over her shoulder as casually as she could. It was the two of us alone. She was double checking that fact. “It was just some bad dreams. Liam was fine after his.”

“Liam didn’t hurt himself in his sleep,” I pointed to her bloody wrist. She shoved it under her leg and sat on it. “I can help you.” Her eyes wandered over to my face hesitantly. Consideration flashed across her pursed lips. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

“You honestly want to hear all of it? It’s just so… messy.”

“I want to hear everything you want to say: and everything you don’t.”

Charlotte bit her lip back.

“I don’t always have bad dreams like that.” She said softly, barely even audible.

I tried not to look too eager.

“They stopped. For a while anyway. It’s only when I think about him… and we were talking last night…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was the one who started rambling useless things. I went to bed with him on my mind I guess and I woke up like this,” she pulled her wrist up to show me. Deep claw marks were around a tiny pale slash.

Charlotte kept talking quietly, “I got this one when I was in grade school.” She swallowed. I knew she had never told anyone these things before. “He reached out and took ahold of my wrist. His nails were sharp.”

I felt it was safe to ask about the one on her leg. Without saying a word I looked down at her thigh.

She shuffled in her seat uneasily. “That one was from a bike chain or something. The only thing I remember was having my eyes closed.”

My fists clenched at my sides. I wished this guy was still alive so I could beat the living shit out of him.

“They all start to itch while I’m asleep. They burn… and then it’s like I’m getting each one of them all over again.”

I was dying inside. I wanted to reach out and erase all of those marks and erase her pain. I would have taken her place in a heartbeat to shield her from the things that haunted her at night. If I could I would have died a thousand deaths to help her broken heart.

“Hey you two love birds!”

Charlotte startled at Louis’ yelp. She covered her tracks by standing up and taking both of our plates to the kitchen. I stood to take them myself but she shook her head and walked past me.

“She’s kind of quiet, aint she?”

“No, Lou. You’re just a little loud.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I raised a brow. “No you’re not.”

“Nope. I’m a loud person. DEAL WITH IT!” He sauntered off.

I smiled and gave my head a shake. I caught a glimpse of a swinging screen door out of the corner of my eye.

I made my way through the small kitchen and to the back door. I pushed it open like Charlotte had done a few seconds before me. I searched the backyard with my arms crossed over my chest. I spotted a flash of navy blue flannel on the porch swing.

I sat down beside her. Charlotte’s dark brown locks blew in the slight summer breeze. Her usually rosy cheeks were painted with a sheet of tired white and grey. Ten bare toes barely touched the cement patio while my entire foot was pressed against the surface next to her. She looked at me.

“Niall.”

“I’m right here, Princess.”

She gawped pitifully. “Why do people keep hurting me?”

My heart broke into a hundred thousand shards.

I wrapped my arm around her. She curled up onto her side and rested on my chest. I rubbed her steady breathing back and ducked my face into her mess of hair.  “Because they don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Charlotte shut her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“What’s scaring you?”

Those two heartbreakingly dazzling chocolate diamonds of hers stared at me. “I just don’t want it to happen again.”

I pulled her closer. “I won’t let it.”

“Good,” She sighed. Her face was buried into the slack of my night shirt. “Because I can’t lose you.”

Realization dawned on me and I saw what she had been implying.

“I would never hurt you. I love you, Charlotte. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“…I know.”

I smiled sadly and kissed the top of her precious head.