Broken Crystals

When Crystal collapses in the middle of the road after another beating, headlights are the last thing she sees. She wakes up in a strange house, surrounded by five strange boys. She refuses to relax around them or be herself. But can the one Irish boy with the beautiful blue eyes show her what it means to be loved and fix her cracks?


91. Torn Apart


Crystal's POV

The next two days pass painfully slow and I find it extremely difficult to contain myself around Niall. It was like being caged in my own home. He knew something was wrong but things we're still tense between us so he didn't press. He only talked to me when it was required and it was killing me inside. I knew that he blamed me and I blamed myself too. I felt extremely guilty. Of course I would. I put everyone I love in danger. And now I've probably trebled that threat by arranging to meet him. 
I sit at the kitchen table and stare down at the plate of food infront of me. Perrie had cooked dinner for us all but Niall had left a few hours ago. I had no idea where he had been going for the past five nights but by the smell of alcohol reminating from him when he finally trudges up to bed at stupid times in the morning, I could guess it was the pub.
"Okay?" Eleanor asks as she takes a seat beside me. Perrie was feeding Calla in her high-chair who had half of her food around her face and was gleefully chatting away to her. I nod in response to El and she picks up her knife and fork. 
"Lou's coming down tomorrow." She starts in an attempt to take my mind off things.
"The boys have the day off," She adds and takes a bite of food. My stomach churns and voices begin whispering in the back of my head. I shake it vigorously, trying to stop them from proceeding and after keeping my eyes shut for several minutes they eventually die down again.
"What about Zayn?" I open my eyes and ask Perrie, attempting to take my mind off tomorrow.
"Yeah, he's coming down too." She flashes me a smile. 
"The two of them are going to stay here and hopefully manage to drag Niall out somewhere." She adds, wiping food from Calla's face.
"Good luck to them," I mumble, feeling my heart sink further. 

The following morning I wake up and head straight into Calla's room where I find Niall already there. He was still dressed; clothes crumpled and hair wild. His back was to me and I watch as he picks up Cee from her cot and cradles her body to his broad chest. But something about the messy way he's clutching her and not quite supporting her weight properly throws me off. Her eyes are still closed and she's breathing deeply as he gently begins to sing softly to her; words slurring and swaying in to one blur. The strong smell of alcohol and smoke emanates thickly from him and by the way he's swaying slightly I can see he's probably had a bit more to drink than he should have. 

"Niall," I say hesitantly, stepping towards him. He spins slowly, eyes narrowing down on me. I extend my hands out to him and nod at Cee on his chest.
"Pass her to me." I say gently, taking another step. He hugs her small body to him even closer and turns slightly so she's out of my view. I frown slightly and he frowns back.
"I am quite capable of holding her," He says, words slurring slightly. He bends down and plants a sloppy heavy kiss on her forehead, causing her to stir and her eyes lift open.
"Niall, you're drunk. Give me the baby," I say voice becoming more stern for my fear of him forgetting how delicate she is.
"I'm not and no. She's my daughter too," He says, clutching her to him. I sigh, run a hand through my hair and close the gap between us.
"Niall, please. Give me the baby," I extend my arms again, meeting his eyes.
"You could hurt her." 
"Me?" He scoffs suddenly, spinning to face me fully again.
"I could hurt her?" He supports Cee with one hand, jabbing a fore-finger to his chest with the other.
"Me? What about you?" He steps towards me, towering above my small frame. I try my best to bite back my words; knowing it's just the alcohol talking but the way he's saying it makes me think it's what he's been wanting to say all this time.
"You go and get your.... your... Dad who may I remind you is an abusive monster who caused you years of pain to... to meet you? And you wanted to take our daughter too? What the fuck is wrong with you?! I heard you all talking last night and I can't believe you could be so... so  fucking stupid!" He spits the words at me, burning a hole in my chest. He'd heard me and the girls last night... how could I have been so stupid? I didn't know whether he was home or not but that was no excuse.
"Have you forgotten what he put you through? Do I need to remind you of what he did? He fucked you up big time, Crystal!"
"I don't need reminding!" I shout back, feeling tears of anger and sadness prick my eyes.
"Well you're obviously more stupid than you seem then!" He roars back, eyes dark and cloudy. My breath hitches in my throat and I hold back tears as my vision blurs with the substance and anger.
"I thought you knew how scared I was when I saw him at that shop! I was terrified! I hadn't seen him for years Niall and it brought it all back! I had no intention of leaving my phone and having him gain access to me after all this time! I thought I'd gotten past all of that!" I throw my arms around and Calla begins to cry but I don't waver; still filled with undenying rage. 
"You want him back in your life and you know it!" Niall screams right back at me, edging closer. His words pain me and I snatch Calla quickly from his arms before storming down the stairs and into the kitchen. I rummage around the kitchen while trying to hush Cee from crying as I hunt for my purse and phone. I find them on the side and snatch them both up before flying out of the front door and out into the crisp morning air.


My bare-feet burn as I jog whilst balancing Calla on my hip, down the road. I knew there was a hotel along the high-street next to a cinema and that was the only place I could think of right now. My mind was fogged with sadness, rage and saddness. I couldn't believe what he'd said and part of me was screaming at myself for over-reacting. He was off his head drunk and I knew he wasn't in control of his mouth or actions. But the other part was screaming that he was right and I knew it deep down. It was my fault Calla and everyone else was in danger and then I was arranging to bring that danger even closer to us all. But I needed to see if what I hoped for was true. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he could get to know Calla... and maybe me all over again. But was I just building myself up for more disappointment? On the phone he sounded somewhat rational and his voice wasn't the usual gruff or slur as I remembered it. It filled me with hope but that would only make things worse. All of this confusion and doubt swarms my mind as I stumble through the doors of the hotel B&B and up to the receptionist. The lady looks quite alarmed to see quite a young girl with messy hair, pajamas, no shoes, face blotchy and red from crying clutching a sleeping two year-old to her chest at just gone half six in the morning. But I didn't care. 

"Hello, erm... Are there any rooms available?" I stutter, running my free hand through my hair. The receptionist stares at me in bewilderment for a while longer before looking down at the computer set up infront of her. After a moment of scrolling she nods and spins behind her to grab a key.

"Room 14, floor 3." She states and hands me the key.

"How long were you looking to stay?" Her questions throws me off and I hum for a few moments awkwardly. 

"Three nights," I say quietly, rearranging Calla on my hip. The woman nods and tells me how much it will come to. I hand over my credit card and as I'm paying she asks me if I would like a cot. I nod slowly and she smiles sympathetically.

"She's very beautiful, Mrs Horan." The use of my name causes me to wince internally. 

"Thank you, and..." I breath in slightly.

"Please don't mention this to anyone... It would just make things a thousand times worse for me." I ask her as politely as I can manage; getting the press involved would be the worst thing to happen.

She gives me her word, telling me how she's a single mother of two and knows what I'm going through. I try to hold back tears as I nod and thank her before dissapearing into the lift. I cringed obviously when she told me this and she was quick to tell me that she was doing just fine. But that wasn't why I was cringing. It was because she thought I was a single mother... and after this I wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 

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