Chapter 9

“Harry.”

The collected voice that I’ve heard so many times before send chills down my spine. The already boiling hot room becomes even hotter, and my palms begin to sweat.

He’s sat in a chair behind a desk. I don’t move. I can’t move. The man that I thought was in jail all this time is not.

He laughs bitterly. “Come here, Harry.” His voice is sickly sweet, making me even less motivated to walk anywhere near him.

My feet are firmly planted to the spot. My breathing becomes quick and a wheezing sound comes from my throat. I’m on the verge of a panic attack, and this gag is choking me.

His eyes harden and his jaw clenches as if he isn’t used to being refused. “Come!” He sounds like he’s talking to a dog, not his son.

I slowly, timidly step forward, questions filling my head.

When I’m standing directly in front of his desk, he smiles. His smile is so vicious that it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Good.” He leans forward and rips the gag from my mouth.

I take a few deep breaths, the air in here fresher than the other rooms. I glare at him.

He chuckles and crosses his arms.

“Why am I here? Hell, why are you here?” I ask. “You’re supposed to be in jail.”

Des (I’m too confused and angry to call him dad) props his feet up on the desk in front of him and clears his throat.

“Ouch. All this time I thought you loved me,” he says, voice monotone.

I don’t even blink.

“I was never in jail,” he continues smoothly, examining his fingernails.

I clench my fists, causing the ropes that tie my hands together to cut deeper into my skin. “How can that be true?” I mumble.

“I’m a gang leader, Harry. And when you didn’t answer my letter and hung up on me, it didn’t make me happy,” he smiles, ignoring my question.

My jaw falls open in shock. Gang leader?! How did that happen?

He cackles at my reaction, and I wonder how in the world he can find anything funny right now. “There’s more to the story but I think I better get to why you’re here. That’s the important part, anyhow,” he continues boredly.

I want to hear the story, but he looks like he’s in a hurry.

“Let’s talk, son. How are you?”

I snort, not putting up with his crap. “I’m not your son anymore. What did you really bring me here for?” I demand, clenching my jaw. I’m not in the mood to play around.

Des’ sickly sweet smile fades, being replaced by a frown that sends shivers down my spine. “I want information.”

I’m glad he finally cut to the chase; it gives me less time in this strange place. “What information could I possibly have for you?”

He smirks again. “Your girlfriend Bethany has a friend named Sandy. She has connections with this gang, and I want you to find all the information you can on her. Do anything you can to get on her good side. Then I want you to kill her,” he says it with such carelessness that it makes me wonder how many people he’s killed.

“I’m not killing anyone,” I whisper, hands clenching into fists behind my back.

He stands abruptly, leaving his chair spinning. “You will if you know what’s good for you,” he growls, running his fingers along my neck. As I cringe, he chuckles. “I have the power to take your life, Harry.”

I shut my eyes. “Why me?”

Des drops his hand and grins wider. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”









When he finally releases me, I’m left with practically no choice but to go with his sick plan.

I don’t doubt for one second that he can and will do everything he said he would. It scares me to know that my own father wouldn’t hesitate to kill his son. I never thought he was a saint, but now that I know the real him I feel disgusting to be offspring of him.

Walking by Bethany, I feel like throwing up just thinking about what I have to do to her best friend. I can’t live knowing I killed somebody, but I don’t want my own father to kill me either.

I can feel Bethany’s stare as I walk past her. I’m sure I look exhausted and scared, exactly what I’m feeling.

I lock the door to my flat, stumbling to the couch. As I collapse on it, Whiskers hops up on my chest, purring happily that I’m home. I scratch her behind her ears, then the doorbell rings.

I freeze, remembering I don’t have my gun anymore.

Something slides under the door, and I wander over finding a piece of paper.

It’s Bethany. Don’t kidnap me again ;)

I smile despite myself and open the door, finding a grinning Bethany. I momentarily forget Des’ plan to kill her best friend, but only momentarily.

She steps inside and we both sit on the couch. Whiskers hops up on my lap again, begging for attention.

“I saw you walking in earlier and you looked upset. What’s up?” she asks.

I know I said that I don’t like people, and that I don’t make friends. Especially with her since I’m supposed to assassinate her friend, but she’s just the kind of person you can tell things easily to.

I sigh. “Well, I’m having a long day,” I answer vaguely.

She nods, petting Whiskers.

“Wanna talk about it?”

That takes me by surprise. I’m a jerk to her, why does she care?

However, I shake my head. I can’t tell her what’s on my mind. What would I even say? “Oh, nothing. My dad just told me I have to murder your best friend or else I’ll get my brains blown out”. I don’t think so.

“What’s her name?” she asks, referring to the cat in my lap.

“Whiskers,” I smile.

“She’s cute.”

“Thanks.”

There’s a pause, the only sound is Whiskers’ purring.

“You wanna go somewhere? I just got off work,” she asks hesitantly.

My face lights up. “Sure.”

We agree on driving her car, and she tells me we’re going to a good pub she found the other day.

I still have yet to understand why she’s being so nice to me, and I make a point of asking her eventually.

As we step into the pub, we’re greeted with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The pub isn’t that crowded since it’s a Sunday night.

We chat over our drinks and somehow get on the subject of past loves we’ve had.

“I had a couple girlfriends when I was twelve and thirteen, nothing too serious,” I confess.

She smiles. “I’ve only had one serious boyfriend. He thought he loved me . . . But he didn’t even know what it was.”

I look down at my beer, then back at her. “Did you love him?”

She shrugs. “Thought so at the time . . . But I moved on and so did he.”

I nod, running a hand through my messy curls. It’s quiet for a while after that, neither of us really having anything to say.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurt suddenly.

She looks surprised.

“I’ve been so rude to you,” I whisper.

She chews her lip in concentration. “Well I figured you had a reason for it and you’d tell me when you were ready. Secrets can’t stop us from being friends, can they?”

I grin, shaking my head.

But what she doesn’t know is one secret I have can.

Notes

Longish chapter :) it took me forever to type it out so you better like it *glares* just kidding xD but seriously give me some feedback :) i love hearing what you think.


its getting pretty intense ;)

(not edited)