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Harry's POV

"This is fucking bullshit." I groan to myself quietly and Greyson lifts his brow.

"Is there a problem?" his voice mocks me.

Yes, you fucking deepshit. Are you fucking deaf?! I don't want to go there!

"No." I harshly grunt out instead and he takes a step closer.

"Good, because I can't have any fucking problems, do you hear me?" he is becoming more and more annoying and I begin to eye the stone on the ground and calculate if it's big enough to kill him.

Burying wouldn't be a problem since we're in the woods anyway.

"I don't know what the fuck it is that got you so fucking whiny these last months, but you need to snap the fuck out of it, or I won't be so fucking nice anymore." he moves the hand with the huge fucking scar, getting my attention.

Ever since that night, we silently decided to avoid each other as much as possible, but he's become a real pain in the ass when I have to endure him.

Considering I shot him and left him beaten up, I guess it's understandable.

Still, it gets on my fucking nerves.

"This guy is the real thing. If you mess this up, we'll have bigger problems than your shit brain can imagine. If you do fuck it up, however, I guess I'll finally get to kill you, so it's not that bad either way for me." he sneers and I roll my eyes.

As if.

"Can you just give the motherfucking package to me, already?" I press and he pushes a shoe box in my hands. The fuck?

"That's what all this fuzz is about? This shit box?"

"It's slightly different shit to get across this time." he explains.

"What? What is it?" I ask. It better not be kidneys or some shit.

"Diamonds. The amount you hold in your hands right now is worth 5 billion. Get it across the border, you get 10 thousand bucks when you bring back the money. That's double the usual amount for your shit ass." (btw: that's actually true, I googled it. Pretty mindblowing how much a shoebox can cost)

I feel it in my hands a bit. That's a good amount of money, I'm impressed.

I guess going to Spokane won't be so shitty anyway.

"Deal." I say and walk away.

***

I feel like I'm either gonna shit my pants or vomit with each mile I get closer to Spokane.

Getting the shit over the boarder wasn't so hard. I gave each of them 200 dollars to get me through and not check my car, now only to pass it to the guy picking this up.

That shouldn't be so bad either, I'm pretty fucking sure he's just a smuggler like me.

No, none of those things worry me.

What worries me is the fact that I'm getting closer and closer to where she lives.

Which is bullshit, though. It's not like I will meet her in this huge ass town.

It's not like I will bump into her.

No fucking way.

But, what if maybe I want to?

I shake my head. No, I don't want to.

What if she looks great?

What if she's moved on completely?

What if she has a... boyfriend?

My grip on the steering wheel tightens.

Stop it, you idiot. You can't turn around now.

It's eleven PM, I meet him in an hour at some party where there's apparently a bilion people and there's almost no cops so it's the safest place imaginable.

Even if there were cops, I'm sure they would be busier looking out for joints than two dudes exchanging a shoe box.

I pull up in front of a gas station to fill up my tank and get myself a sandwich or some shit, locking the car door behind me.

The reason I'm so good at this is simply because I don't give a fuck. Nobody is going to suspect a person as chilled as me.

Sure, I'm nervous as fuck about her, but that's just a feeling in my stomach making me sick, I'm not sweating or anything for now.

I sit back in my car and eat my sandwich, before continuing the drive.

An hour later, I'm walking through the crowd of teens, feeling slightly depressed watching all the happy fuckers around me.

I'm supposed to be this careless.

I pull my hoodie over my head when I notice someone who resembles the kind of a person I would have to get the box to. He looks at me and lifts a brow.

"This is it?" he asks, his voice deep, he sounds like a fucking junkie and I nod, making sure that he can't see my face. He's dressed in all black, his arm filled with tattooes and he has a black hat.

"Yeah. The code?" I ask, I can't just give it to anyone so I gotta make sure he's the real deal.

"Francesco Dorelle."

I give him a curt nod and pass the box as he passes me a black backpack.

Opening it quickly, I see it's packed with bills and I quickly make sure they're real and not fake.

"The rest of the money will be transitioned over the bank." he tells me and I nod once again. I've been told that I'll only get a part of the money from him.

"You got three days." I tell him before turning around and walking away with the backpack on me.

Shit will go down if we don't get the money in three days, and they know it.

I let out a breath. Okay, that shit's done, now I just gotta get the fuck away from here.

My eyes scan the huge crowd and I feel anxious for as long as I am in the crowd.

I slightly relax when I get out of the crowd. There's less chance she's here.

Kicking the small rocks with my feet as I walk, I begin to think of how good it will feel when I'll be able to get the fucking gun that's pressing against my skin out of my pants.

I take a turn, walking towards a supermarket that looks like shit; it's better than ours but it still looks like shit.

Everything's looked like shit these past few months or however long it has been, anyway.

I sigh in content when I see my car, and I'm about to sit in it, happy to get the fucking gun out, when I hear a cry and my blood runs cold.

Shivers spread all around my body and I swear my heart fucking stops.

I can't breathe, I can't blink, I can't move and I'm frozen.

No, no, no, I know that cry. I know that fucking cry.

I hear it again and my face whips towards the sound.

Before I know it, I'm running like a fucking lunatic, not even in control of my body, some other fucking force taking over and telling me what to do, and I can't do anything else but comply.

This is what I was made for.

This is my entire purpose.

To protect her.

My whole world comes crashing down when I meet the icy blue eyes for the first time in what feels like forever, and just like that, I can breathe again.

***

Yupiii they meet again!

Love, P.❤

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