THE TAYLORS [H.S]

11.

Harry's workout playlist
1. Work, Hustle, Kill - Rob Bailey & The Hustle Standard
2. Peter Pan - M24
3. Till I collapse - Eminem, Nate Dogg
4. Kings Never Die - Eminem, Gwen Stefani
5. Stronger - Kayne West
6. This Is America - Childish Gambino
7. Lose Yourself - Eminem
8. Drop The World - Lil Wayne, Eminem
9. Woi - Digga D
10. No Love - Eminem, Lil Wayne
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"What am I going to do with you?" My father asked with a sigh, running a hand over his face as he paced back and forth behind his desk.

I slouched further into the plush leather seat across from his desk that he stood behind, kicking my bare feet up onto it. He didn't seem bothered by my actions, though Michael glared from where he sat besides me. His facial expression to me to behave, but I only gave him a cunning smile. He wasn't about to dictate anything else, not while he was in her, trying to convince our father to control me.

He too was slouched, though he was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. I think he thought the conversation between my father and I was going to go a lot different. Trent and Johnny had ventured off early this morning, too frustrated to be seated in the same room as me after last night antics. Michael, being the only one who could tolerate me, chose to sat in on the conversation after he told my father what I had done with Casper. He knew how I could always get away with stupid things with my father and he wanted to make sure I was held accountable for my actions. By the way my brothers acted, I was sixteen and not twenty fucking two, one who apparently needed a full time babysitter.

Michael had put in somewhat of a formal request to have Harry stay as my personal guard for longer because apparently I was a risk and he didn't want anything bad to happen to me. Please. They all just hated not getting their way and needed to reinforce more rules just because they could.

"Return me back to sender?" I asked drily, picking at my nails. I really did need a manicure, I thought to myself. I was going to put that on my to do list for the day once this pointless meeting was over.

Michael let out another sigh just as me father gave me an unimpressed look. I pressed my lips together to hold my chuckle and looked over at Michael before frowning. He was leaning over the chair, his elbows resting on his knees.

I tilted my head as I studied him. Michael reminded me of a bear. Overly large broad shoulders, shaggy brown hair, an expressionless face. It was strange how tense my brother seemed to be, though I blamed it on the fact the other two musketeers weren't here to back him up on his argument. I felt like I was in court as the two bickered to each other about me. I watched on silently, suddenly interested in hearing Michael's argument. It wasn't often that he argued with my father. Should of gotten the popcorn.

"Can you take this seriously?" Michael demanded, shutting his eyes briefly before staring daggers at our father. "She could of been hurt."

It was funny what happened behind closed door.
/x To everyone, including our guards - all my brothers fell in line. They listened to my father when he barked orders and when he went against the plans they had all already made. They bit down on their tongue and nodded their heads like good soldiers, though when no one was looking, they challenged his dominance and tried overruling him. My father never took well to it. He liked to be the Alpha male. In every circumstance.

Pressing his hands down on his desk, he eyed my brother with pure annoyance, his lip pulling up in a sneer. My father was intimidating when he needed to be, I thought to myself as I wiggled in my seat. He had mastered the look that made grown men shit themselves. It made sense, I guess. He didn't ever lift a pinky to harm anyone though, he did have an army of men at his beck and call. It was amazing what money could do, wasn't it? Own a few companies, sell a shit load of drugs and then suddenly you're the king of an empire.