"Fucking Christ," Blaise mutters from beside me on the backseat, I sat there with arms and legs crossed. I was getting really tired of getting kidnapped at this point. From my peripheral vision, I can see Blaise touch the bridge of his nose and hiss. "I think he broke my fucking nose."

When I turn to look at him, he had slight swelling under his eyes and a gash across the bridge of his nose, probably from Harry's rings. But no obvious sign of a broken bone. "Your nose isn't broken, it's just bruised." I say, hoping that'll get him to stop whining.

"What do you know?" Blaise retorts and I shake my head in annoyance.

"What's your plan anyways?" I ask. "From what I gathered, you intent to keep me hostage until Harry brings you fifty pounds of coke, forty if he arrives before midnight—and then what?"

"We don't discuss business with prisoners." Rick interrupts from the drivers side, eyeing me momentarily through the read view mirror. I glare.

"She's not a prisoner." Blaise corrects, scrunching his nose, faint tint of dry blood around it. "She's only tagging along for the ride. Styles needs to understand that we don't fuck around, she's just an asset to us that is all."

"I say we kill her," My gaze quickly falls on Rick who held a glare. "That could be more fun."

"This is why Alfio didn't make you the chief of the fucking operation, you fucking moron." Blaise spits. "We aren't going to kill her, in fact we aren't even going to touch a hair on her pretty little head. This is just a scare tactic."

"Alfio sent you?" I turn to Blaise now. "He said he was a good friend of my father, is he just a fucking rat?"

"I'd watch that pretty little mouth of yours if I were you," Rick interrupts once more. "That's my uncle you're talking about."

I roll my eyes. "That explains it." I mumble to myself.

"Back to your question," Blaise begins. "It's a simple plan. I get what I want, Styles gets what he wants and nobody gets hurt."

"And what if he doesn't get you the coke?" I challenge, not seeing a possibility that Harry wouldn't try to come get me. "Then what?"

"Oh, he wouldn't let that happen." Blaise smirks. "The man is a fucking menace but he was hired by the best to protect you. That means that at least his proclivities fall where his loyalty lies. I'm sure he wouldn't let your pretty face out of his sight for more than a day. If we're lucky, he'll already be there by the time we get back."

Blaise was right, Harry is loyal to his mission even though sometimes it seems like there's better suited people for the job out there. He has kept me alive all this time and killed the homeless man that tried to hurt me, there's not a single doubt in my mind that he wouldn't go throw hell and back to find me.

With the disgusting way in which Rick is looking at me, he better make it fast.

—

H.

The ground under my boots crunch with every step I take towards the direction of the green house. I made sure Chris was going to be home alone before I came, I didn't care for his grandmother to find his brains scattered all across her fucking petunias or whatever those stupid flowers were called. I knock three times, my gun in hand. I can hear music from the inside and a few moments later, Chris opens the door with a wide grin.

He was the embodiment of smoke your own product. I raise the gun to his head and he backs up, I shut the door behind me. "Hey, what the fuck man—" I grab his collar and slam him down on the floor, knocking the air out of him. He erupts in a fit of gasps and coughs.

"Thirty-five fucking pounds of flour?" I shout in his face and he cowers away. "Give me a reason not to put a bullet between your fucking eyes." I grit, instilling feat in his eyes

"I don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Did you think I wasn't going to find out?" I question, maintaining my grip on his shirt. "Do you have a fucking death wish?"

"Okay, maybe I gave you a couple of phonies but the rest were good!" At this, the butt of my gun comes in contact with his temple and he yelps out in pain, his eyes squinting from the impact. "I didn't think you'd notice! You don't look like a drug dealer to me!"

"That's because I'm not a fucking drug dealer," I seethe, pulling him up. I shove some pots of plants out of the way and slam him down on the table so that he is bending over. I hold his head in place and look down to his face. "Down at the docks you said you had product for a much cheaper price than what the distributors had."

"That wasn't a lie!"

"I should fucking kill you!" I hit him with the gun again, this time he bleeds and he groans in pain. I wanted nothing more than to shoot him time and time again until he wasn't recognizable. It was his fault Blaise and Rick took Valentina. I grab his neckline and shove him off, he stumbles but catches himself. "I need fifty pounds and I need them now, Chris."

"I don't have it—" I push at his chest and he bumps onto a cart full of gardening tools, it rattles and he hisses in pain.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" I grit, taking my pocket knife into my hands. "I won't kill you, but I sure as hell will make you wish that I did." I grab his hand and put it down flat on a table, I press the tip of my pocket knife down on the back of his hand slowly, he cries.

"No, please!" He pleads. "I only have Heath's product, but that is already paid and counted for, he's the reason why I had to give you fake coke because he demanded that I give him all that I had!"

"So why the fuck did you get me to buy it from you knowing damn well it wasn't coke!"

"Because I figured you were just going to sell it off somewhere and not care wether it was legit or not! I just wanted money to buy more product since Heath left me with nothing!"

"I don't need your fucking excuses, I need fifty fucking pounds of cocaine I don't give a shit from whose stash. My patience is wafer fucking thin, do you understand?" The knife digs into his skin and he hisses.

"Look, man I already told you that what I have belongs to Heath, he will kill me!"

"If you don't comply, I will take you to my boss and he will order me to kill you so you're dead regardless." I grab the back of his shirt and push him towards the back once again. "Don't keep me waiting any fucking longer, you don't want to see me pissed off anymore than I already am." Without any more resistance but full of hesitation, Chris grumbles and begins to stack the brown packages in a duffel bag.

Once he's done, I zip it up and take it. "What about payment?" Chris asks as I was beginning to walk away.

"Now what does a deadman need money for?" He seemed pale. "This better be pure fucking coke, I would hate to come back but I wouldn't hesitate to slit your fucking throat." I spit, turning on my heel and walking away.

As soon as I got in my car, I pressed the phone to my ear and after four long rings, Blaise picks up. "Can I help you?" He mocks.

"I'm on my way with your shit."

"Good," He hums. "We'll be waiting."

"Where is she? I want to talk to her."

"Can't. Her and Rick are currently out making buddies since they can't get along. Don't worry, he shouldn't be long."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"It means if you take any longer I can't make any promises that Rick won't break. You know what being in the slammer for years does to a man's proclivities."

I grip the phone tightly, my jaw clenches. "If there's so much as a fucking scratch on her-"

"Oh guard dog, I know you're all bark no bite."

"We'll see about that."

—

V.

"Alright, let her out." I hear Blaise say from the other side of the door. They currently had me locked in the bathroom while Blaise spoke to Harry over the phone. Rick opens the door and I walk past him, already annoyed with this dumb hostage scheme they were playing out solely to aggravate Harry.

They had no intentions of hurting me, at least Blaise didn't. Rick on the other hand looks like he gave a shit less of what happens to me. "The only thing you're doing here is getting him angry and trust me that isn't something you should be proud of." I say, crossing his arms.

"We're just having fun here," Blaise says with a smirk.

"Is this what you think this is?" I say in disbelief. "The only thing you're doing is signing your fucking death wish."

"Listen, sweetheart. Nobody here is hurting anyone, now if you wish to ruin my fucking party I can always send you off to the back and have Rick here have his way with you." I look over at Rick who held a hard expression on his face. "Is that what you want?"

"Either of you fucking touch me and I will bash your face in." I threaten but this only seems to make Blaise and Rick chuckle. My blood boils as I watch them look at me with such humor in their faces.

"Is that right?" Blaise takes a step towards me and I take one back. "I'll warn you, feisty women make this hell a lot more fun." His smirk sends a chill down my spine and just as he was reaching his hand out to me, my fist connects to his already bruised nose and I feel it break. He quickly groans and falls to his knees, his hands pool with blood. "You fucking bitch!"

"Now it's broken!" I remark and just as I was about to walk away, Rick grabs my arm harshly and I can already feel the bruising.

"Where do you think you're going you little bitch?" Both his hands now grabbed my arms and I kick but his grip is stubborn. I manage to push myself off of him but this causes me to stumble back and with a quick push from Rick, my back hits a door so hard that it opens and I fall to the floor. I quickly try to get on my feet but his assault continues, pushing me onto a creaky old bed. "You wanna play rough, huh? I'll show you rough!"

"Get the fuck off me!" I shout, kicking at him. My hands wail on his face, my nails digging into his skin and he hisses in pain. This action earns a slap and my face grows hot in anger.

"Rick," I hear Blaise in the other room. "Don't you fucking do it!" This seems to fly past Rick who was furiously removing his belt and in a quick motion, manages to wrap one of my wrists with the belt. As his hand was over my head to hold me down, I bite his wrist as hard as I could and when he pulls back, I use the belt to wrap around his neck, knocking him down on the bed. I climb on his back and tighten my grip.

I hear commotion in the other room but by this point I was seeing red. Rick manages to stand with me still on his back, he quickly backs into a wall as hard as he can and my back slams against it. "I will fucking kill you!" He strains and my nails scratch at his face in rage, earning groans from Rick.

I am then being thrown on the floor harshly and just as Rick was stalking towards me, his face bleeding from the scratches a gunshot goes off in the room. Rick stops and I turn to see Harry, an angry glare on his face, the glare directed towards Rick. Harry held the gun towards Rick, stepping closer to me to help me up and then he walks towards him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Harry seethes, intimidating Rick.

"Styles—" Blaise interrupts but shuts up when Harry turns the gun towards him.

"Back the fuck up." Harry warns and I watch the effect Harry has on him. He then turns back to Rick, stepping closer and points the gun to his forehead. "Get on your fucking knees."

"Fuck you." Rick spits, blood running from his wounds. At this, Harry fires the gun on one of Rick's foot causing Rick to fall and shout profanities in pain. Harry kicks his other uninjured foot making Rick kneel, groaning from the pain of the gunshot.

Harry kneels down to Rick's level, the gun still to his head. "You touch her again and I will see it that the next meal you have are my fucking bullets. Understood?" Harry seethes, I knew he wanted nothing more than to kill him right there and then. Rick doesn't say anything as he glares back at him, shaking from the pain of the wound. Harry stands back up, removing the duffel bag on his shoulder and tossing it to Blaise who had blood running down his chin and onto his shirt.

Blaise flinches when he catches the heavy bag. Harry gets in his face next. "I do a hell lot more than just barking." Harry turns to me, extending his hand to me and I take it. "You tell Alfio to come to me personally the next time there's a fucking problem."

With no further words, we walk away.