Open Your Eyes

"No, Liam, you are—"

"Don't, Lennon! Just don't," Liam exclaimed. "That fucking bastard was there. He was there! He could hurt you and Presley! I'm coming back and I don't care what you say."

I sighed. I didn't want this to happen. I knew I shouldn't have told him. Paul told me I needed to tell him. So I listened to Paul and called him. Liam's reaction was exactly how I expected it. He went from cool, calm and collected to enraged in a second flat. I would've been better off lying to Paul and telling him I called Liam.

"Liam, Paul is taking care of it. He said Preston is coming back and he's bringing the police into it. You need to stay in London where you're safe. I don't want you getting hurt. And please don't tell Harry." Presley poked my leg, but I waved her off. "Please," I practically begged.

A loud sigh came from his end of the phone. I can just picture him running a hand over his nonexistent hair in a hasty manner. "But Lennon, I love you and I want to protect you. Presley just called me her dad and I don't want to lose you two. Just let me do this," he spoke.

Now I was getting mad. "I get that, Li. I do. But right now, this is my problem and I'm not letting you get into it. I'm the reason he's doing this. Me. Not you. So stay out of it." I snapped. I know I'd regret it later, but I was on edge.

He was quiet for a while, before finally speaking up. "You want me to stay out of it? Fine. I'm done. Do whatever the bloody fucking hell you want, Lennon."

The dial tone met my ears. With a sigh, I hit end call and threw my phone across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor in pieces. "God fucking dammit!" I angrily shouted, gripping my hair at the base of my neck.

"Mummy?" Presley asked timidly. Bloody hell. I forgot she was in the room. "Not now, Pres," I mumbled. "Go play with your toys."

I had a knack for ruining things. Always had, always will.


There wasn't necessarily anything that scared me to the point where I was shaking. Unless it involved James. He ruined my life. He hurt me in ways most people never think of; both physically and mentally. Nobody could understand what I was feeling unless they've went through this too. But chances are, even then they probably wouldn't fully understand.

James took things to a whole new level. He was a sadistic bastard. He made me do things. Things that were seared into my memory. He made me shoot up. He made me drink. He made me have sex with his mates. He sat and watched me have sex with his mates. He hit me. Hit scarred me. He hurt me. And he hurt my daughter. He hurt us. He scarred us for life and didn't give two shits. He was a self centered, sadistic bastard. He ruined our chances of ever having a normal life. Even when I thought I'd finally broke free of him, he popped back up and ruined it all over again. He ruined me and Liam. He ruined me and my family. He ruined everything.

He got joy out of it. Joy.

"Come on in, love." My heart was going a mile a minute as I stood in the small room. "Take a seat."

I took a seat in the chair across from the officer with shaking hands. Presley crawled up in my lap and smiled at the officer. "Hi!" She exclaimed. "My names Presley. Who's you?"

He grinned over at her, leaning on his desk. "Well 'ello Miss Presley. My names Officer Stanley Tomlin. It's nice to meet you."

"Mummy, his name like Lou-Lou's!"

I gave her a half arsed grin. "Almost, love. Now go over in that chair and play with your toys, yeah? Mummy has to talk to the nice man." She nodded and slid off my lap, going over to the extra chair where Paul had placed her bag. Paul and Preston were standing by her with their arms crossed watching both of us.

"So," Stanley started. "Tell me what's been happening?"

After a deep breath, I started telling him everything. How James abused me and Presley. How he broke Presley's arm. How he caused me to have a miscarriage. How he threatened me through text messages and voicemails. How he was stalking us. I have him my old phone with all the old texts and voicemails on it and gave him my phone records from my current phone.

"Well my dear, it seems like we have more then enough reason to give you a restraining order. Unfortunately that's all we can give you. Now if he breaks that restraining order we can put him in jail for a few days, but other then that, we can't do anything unless we have physical proof that he's physically hurt you," he explained. I nodded.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Even if he wasn't going to be in a place where I knew he would be locked up and away from us, but the fact that I had this small thing, it made me feel better. Even if it was just a piece of paper, it made me feel just a little bit better.

"Thank you sir," I thanked. He slid a piece of paper across his desk and started telling me what it was. "All you have to do is sign in these two places and you'll be set," he spoke. "He has to stay at least 122 meters away from you and if he breaks it, he'll be put in jail."

I signed my name by the X's and pushed the paper and pen back over to him. "Thank you again," I said standing up. He stood up and waved it off. "Just doing by job."

With a quick shake of his hand and a promise that he'd get everything taken care of, we were gone. His business card was shoved in my purse and Paul and Preston were ushering us out the door. Once Presley was buckled in her car seat and I was buckled up in the back with her, Paul turned around in the driver seat to look at me. "It's safe to go home now, so is that where you want to go?" He asked.

I shook my head. "I'd like to go to Gemma's if that's alright."

"It's quite alright."

Hope you and boyfriend aren't doing the nasty because your favorite niece and little sister are coming to stay with you.

Have I told you you're my favorite and I love you way more then Harry?

Because I do.


"Well good morning my loves!" Gemma exclaimed.

"Gem, it's noon," I chuckled.

She tossed her bag on the coffee table as she plopped down in the big papasan chair. Presley was sitting in her mini papasan chair in front of the telly watching Cinderella. "So," she dragged out.

Oh god. Harry must've called her. "What?" I whined.

"I got a phone call from the baby brother earlier."

I threw my arms over my face and groaned. "And?"

She then went into this big spiel about how I overreacted. I overreacted. I had no idea what the hell she was smoking, but I in no way overreacted. I acted nicer then I could've been. With the stress I was under, I could've acted like the biggest bitch on the planet. But I told him that I didn't need his help, that it was my problem. My problems weren't his problems. The way I acted, I had every right to react that way, but in no way did I overreact.

"Please explain to me how I overreacted," I said with an edge. And yes I had a right to get mad about this conversation. "Because I think that I had every right on this planet to tell Liam that I didn't want him involved in my problems with the possibility of him getting hurt. So yeah, I think I overreacted."

Can you come get me? I'm at Gemma's.

For sure! Be there in a bit.

"I don't know when we'll be back," I spoke. With Presley holding my hand and my big messenger bag-slash-diaper bag over my shoulder, we left.


"Pres, Hun, don't put the leaves in your hair!"

"But NiNi do it!"

"Niall, quit it!" I hollered. "You're slowly ruining my daughter!"

He gave me a smirk before running at me with a handful of leaves. He threw them at me as I started to get up out of my lawn chair, making me groan. "Niall Horan!" I exclaimed. He ran off and laughed that obnoxiously loud laugh of his.

A booming laugh startled me as I picked the leaves out of my hair. I looked over my shoulder to see my dad standing by the table on the back porch with one of his hands in his pocket and the other holding a beer.

"Kinda like you have two kids, yeah?" Nodding, I sighed, plopping back down in the lawn chair. "Remind me to never have anymore kids."

He chuckled. "Now don't say that. I want more grandbabies, Lenna. If you have a boy you have to name him after me. That's all I ask. After you have a boy you can stop having kids."

A smile appeared along with an eye roll and a shake of my head. "Middle name good for you?" He looked deep in thought. "Because I've had my other kids' names picked out since I was like, thirteen."

He finally nodded. "Just as long as you don't name the kid after any of The Rolling Stones. That's where I draw the line. My grandson won't be named after any of the bloody Rolling Stones."

He didn't necessarily hate The Rolling Stones, he just didn't like them. He was a Beatles fan through and through. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr were who he grew up on and listened to nonstop. They were who I grew up on and listened to nonstop. My dad and Harry often had arguments over music and there were many times when it would drive me so insane that I'd leave. I'd go over to my Aunt Anne's house and hang out with her. They were ridiculous when it came to that stuff.

"Scouts honor." I held up two fingers. We both chuckled. "So let's be serious, why did you and the Irish kid drive the three hours down here? You didn't dump the Wolverhampton kid for Irish did you?"

All I did was shrug, but the look he gave me made me think twice about not answering. "We got in a fight. He was flipping shit about the whole James deal and I told him I didn't want him getting involved in my problems. He got mad and said he was done," I rushed out.

"You got that running thing from your Mum, yeh know." His comment made me look up at him with furrowed brows. "You're damn good at it too."

Was I running from this? I mean, was I running from the man I loved because he got right mad about me not letting him protect me? Was I really like my Mum? I didn't want to be like my Mum. Maybe Gemma was right. Maybe I did overreact.

"You lot can crash here tonight," my dad spoke up. "The weathers supposed to get bad later on. Your room is still set up and the blow up mattress is in your closet."

"Thanks Dad." The corners of my mouth slightly lifted in a smile. "Thanks."