The Housekeeper [h.s.]

Vegas Trouble

Harrys POV:

We had done a few shows around in Vegas. Paul had told us to just take the night free. The other boys had gone out on a party of course. It was this huge party with loads of celebrities. Not really my thing, so I just stayed at the hotel.

Brrr brrr. I took my phone out of my pocket. It was Ron. "Yeah, hello" I answered annoyed. I didn't know what he wanted, but I was kind of tired of his nag.

"Are you in Vegas right now?" I heard from the other line.

I sighed. "Yes, why?"

His heavy breathing hissed in my ear. "Meet me at the Bellagio hotel in 20 minutes. Be there" he said angrily.

"What?? Why-" Beep, beep, beep. Great. I didn't know what he was up to this time, but he sounded both desperate and furious.

I grabbed my jacket and shoes. It would take me at least 20 minutes to get there, and that was the time that I had on me to be there. Ron wasn't really into people not showing up at time, to say it mildly. Plus, the traffic in Vegas was terrible. I wasn't even sure I would get a taxi fast enough.

Couldn't give me some more time, could you, Ron?

It's Ron, Harry. Not your fairy godmother.

A taxi came towards me just as I walked out of the hotel door. I shouted for it and waved. Luckily it spotted me and stopped. An old lady came closer to it as I opened the door to go in myself.

Damn it.

"After you, love" I said and held up the door for her. She smiled, thanked me and went inside. I watched the taxi drive away and cursed quietly. It didn't seem like a taxi was gonna come anytime soon, so I sat down on the pavement, waiting.

I felt a leg kicking my foot. "Hey, junkie. Wake up, it's not really safe lying on the pavement around here this late."

My eyes slowly opened to see a tall, black-skinned guy standing over me. Probably about 30-35 years old or so. I wiped my eyes. They felt sour, and I could hardly see what was around me. I realized I had fallen asleep. My phone vibrated from my pocket, and I was terrified by the thought of Ron standing there for hours waiting for me. It was 1:34 am. 12 missed calls from Ron, and loads of angry kill-threatening messages.

"Fuck" I breathed out in the cold air. I stood up, feeling rather dizzy with a strong headache, and studied the guy standing in front of me.

"You need a ride somewhere? My car is right over there" he said and pointed over at the parking lot a few meters away.

"Yes, please. Thank you." I wasn't too excited over the fact that I got there somehow, because I knew Ron would just slit my throat off either way.

He opened the vehicle and sat down in the driver seat whilst I sat next to him. The car had a strong smell of gasoline and cologne. It was quite an old car, and it looked a bit.. shabby. Should I even trust this person?

Don't judge a book by it's cover, Harry.

"So, where are you going?" He asked.

I checked my phone to see if Ron had called me again. No missed calls. You would think that that would make me happy and relieved, but it did the opposite. Ron might as well have left and gotten a serial killer to come and kill me. He was capable of anything when he was angry.

Something you should've thought about a long time ago.

"Uhm, to the Bellagio hotel" I said. He gave me a questioning look and chuckled.