Fists and Knives (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 32

Oh shit two chapters in two days whatttt? - haha I really just felt bad for leaving you guys hanging the last few days so here's me making up for it! <3 I don't tell you enough how much I love you all and hope you're still loving this story! :) Love you Love you Love you!

"BABY!" Harry shouted, tapping on the window of the car repeatedly.  To say I jumped out of my skin would be an understatement.  The positive pregnancy test slipped through my fingers and onto the floor by my feet.  It took me more than a few seconds to realize that he was calling me "baby" and not saying baby because there was one in my stomach.  That one being his... and mine... and ours... 

"Bootylicious, beautiful, baby," Harry sang as he pulled open my passenger door and scooped me out of it.  Before my feet left the car floor, I kicked the pregnancy test across to Jenna who understandingly scooped it up and jammed it into her purse. 

Harry swung me around in the driveway, forcing me to clutch his neck more tightly and try my hardest to hold back another round of vomit.  It was becoming apparent to me that "morning" sickness wasn't just restricted to the morning.  That, and I was nervous as all hell to tell him I was pregnant. "They got Marcus!"  He exclaimed excitedly. 

"Already??" I half-burped, making Harry laugh and drop me to my feet.  He leaned down for a kiss, but knowing I had just thrown up, I dodged the kiss by wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his neck.  "I missed you."

Harry's chest rumbled as he chuckled and pulled me closer.  "You were only gone for three hours." He kissed my neck.

"Well, I missed you nonetheless.  Now what about Marcus?"

Harry kissed my cheek and pushed some of the hair back out of my face.  "When Zayn called, the League was already on their way to Marcus' house.  Apparently, he paid off one of the referees in order to win the fight against me.  The ref took the money and went to Australia which is why he wasn't there for the fight." 

I giggled.  "Smart guy." 

"I'll say," Harry grinned, taking my hand and squeezing it. "But, Marcus didn't know the League was showing up, so he didn't have time to hide the steroids.  On top of that, he was blazed when they got there.  He claimed the marijuana was medicinal.  It was to help the pain in his foot." 

My eyes widened.  "Wait, did he have to tell them what happened to his foot?  Did he rat me out?"

Harry laughed at my panicked state and shook his head.  "No, baby.  Rat you out for what?  Protecting yourself?  He couldn't tell them it was you who put a knife through his foot without explaining what you were doing at his house in the first place.  That would just be more trouble for him.  It's kinda like when he bribed me a few months ago and I couldn't say anything about it either.  Marcus and probably about four of his guards are gonna be in jail for a solid amount of time and he can never fight again in this league, but once anyone else sees his past of taking steroids and being in jail, they're not gonna want him either." 

I let go of a breath I was holding and leaned my head into Harry's chest.  He rubbed my back. "Don't worry, my love.  We're gonna have a party with the boys this afternoon to celebrate.  Just the seven of us."  He laughed and reached his fingers up into my hair, frowning after a moment and pulling my head back to look at me. "You're a little warm, baby.  Are you feeling okay?" 

"We stopped somewhere in the city for a bite to eat and she got sick," Jenna said, jumping into our conversation.  I had almost forgotten that she was still outside with us.  She smiled softly at me and I nodded subtly to show my appreciation for her confidentiality.  There was a time and place for everything and now was definitely not the time for me to tell Harry that he was going to be a father. 

Harry's eyes seemed to darken with concern as he reached for my face and ever-so-gently rubbed his thumbs along my jaw and over my cheeks.  If you had asked me a few months ago whether I thought Harry Styles was capable of feeling anything other than anger and self-righteousness, I would have said no without hesitation.  It made my heart hurt to remember the boy who used to drop notes to me through a wall about how shitty my food was.  The boy who would force me against the oven while I was trying to do my job and push me to lick honey off of his finger for his pleasure - not that I didn't enjoy it too.  The boy who would sleep with a teddy bear to chase the bad dreams away.  That was not the same boy who was in front of me.   The man in front of me was perfectly capable of loving and caring for someone thirty times more than he cared about himself.  It was no longer about the publicity or the sex.  To him, it was all about me.  It was all about us.  I could see it in his the way he looked at me and could feel it in his adoring touch. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, tilting his head to get a better look at my face. 

"I'm feeling much better now," I lied, a tear coming to my eye as I looked back at him.  The tear just made the situation worse.