𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

10.

Chapter 10

________

As I stand in the dark of a tightly closed space, the night in the alley comes back to me in flashes.

From hearing a cry for help to finding myself completely paralyzed over what I was seeing, the same fear I felt then is creeping up on me now. I try to regulate my breathing as the image of Harry's forceful and violent kicks into a boy's abdomen stays fresh in my memories.

Dante.

Harry said the name. I can still see the spit ejected through his gritted teeth as he muttered it. With the recollections I have of that night, I'm trying to search for any clues behind who this Dante is. Though, I can't remember what else Harry had said attached to the name. Not when my mind races to remind me of the gun held to my head.

Seeing Harry whip out the same gun from nowhere only seconds before I was put in a closet is enough to remind me I shouldn't be near him.

I pat the pockets of my pants in search of my phone, but I don't find it. Shit. I run shaky hands up into my hair as I remember I had tucked my phone into my bag—which is on the damn desk.

I needed my phone as a source light to help me see. My vision only darkens the more I stare into nothing.

I steer away from focusing on the dark to listen intently to what is happening on the other side of this door.

After hearing multiple footsteps, I then hear Harry say, "Dante."

"Pierce," another voice says. It's thick and hoarse. I can sense the unhealthy habit of heavy smoking belonging to the man I assume is Dante. I press my ear against the door, hoping I can hear things much clearer.

I only hear shuffling feet and the creaking of an old sofa.

"Where's my fucking money?" Dante says, but rather calmly.

I feel myself begin to sweat. There's a pang in the walls of my chest and I curse myself again because this is not the time to have a panic attack.

"It's all there."

I'm struggling to breathe. The more I try to quit my panting, the more I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I'm suffocating, dropping onto my knees because I cannot handle the trepidation that consumes me. I groan from the fall I took.

"What the fuck was that?"

I gasp for air the moment the closet door swings open. It takes me a minute to register I'm on the floor. I look up, past cuffed jeans and tattooed ankles, to find Louis staring down at me. With a cigarette balanced between his thin lips, he puts a hand out for me to take.

My vision is blurred from tears I didn't know I had. I look at Louis's hand. I don't think I have the tenacity to take it. I remain on the floor like a dirty pile of clothes.

"Pierce, who's this?" The heavy smoker on the couch behind Louis asks. The couch creaks again when he stands on his feet. Ponderous footsteps approach me over the dusty tiled floor.

I think I've stopped breathing altogether.

Louis moves out of the way and now I'm looking at a strange man. He looks tall from where I'm frozen. I thought Harry was terrifying, but this man... I just know his tattooed face and the sinister look in his dark eyes will haunt me in my dreams from now on.

"What is thing little thing doing in the fucking closet?" Dante laughs. His blackened lungs lead him to spiral into a cough. Even his cough is fucking scary. "Were you hiding her from me?"

He's looking at me, but I can tell he's talking to Harry. I watch as Dante bends his knees to get to my level.

"I thought you were coming to collect tomorrow," Harry then says, not answering Dante's questions about me directly.

Fuck, he might just yell at me when this is all over. Unless I'm killed first.

"I come to collect when I fucking please," Dante spits out all while his dirty fingers are reaching out for my hair. I'm able to pull back, but the rough callouses on his fingertips scratch against my forehead. He tuts in my face. "Now, now... I'm not going to hurt you or lock you in a fucking closet either. C'mon, honey. Get up."

When I don't move, he runs his tongue over his teeth. His terrifying grin fades because I can't physically do what he tells me to do.

"I said, get the fuck up!" He yells at me and that's when I flinch and choke on my tears. Before I grasp it all, I'm being tugged up onto my feet.

"Ah!" I whimper when the grip of his hand is sure to leave me bruised marks in the morning. I wipe my wet cheeks the moment Dante had sat me down on the couch with his rough placement.

"You poor thing, you're shaking," Dante then says, standing over me.

Harry, by the desk, says nothing. He only stands with his permanent frown. His fingers are in a fist, lightly brushing across his chin. It's becoming obvious Dante has some form of dominance over Harry.

I am shaking and I hate how small I feel at this moment. I hate that fear and anxiety take me down every single time. I'm so fucking weak.

"Vamp," Dante then calls with a snap of his fingers. It's when Louis steps towards him. The disturbing man then mumbles something to him.

Louis, or Vamp, walks across the room. He's silent in his steps. I don't know him well, but from what I've gathered in a brief encounter with him—he's quite rambunctious. The Louis unzipping a duffle bag by the soda machine and refrigerator moves like a controlled robot.

"Dante, the girl's with me..." Harry finally says, breaking from his stance. "Leave her out of this shit."

I swallow the lump in my throat. My eyes flicker over to Harry. What the hell is he involved in?

"Shut the fuck up," Dante then says to Harry as he makes his way towards me. He scoffs under his smokey and bad breath before he plops down next to me.

I should've gone home instead.

"I-" I finally speak through a sore throat, but my stuttering comes in effect. "I d-don't-"

"Shh," Dante interjects. "Relax and take a deep breath, honey."

"Dante-"

The man's dark eyes shift from me to glare over at Harry. "What's wrong, Pierce? I'm just trying to help her calm down," he says as if the vile man has the purest intentions.

Louis comes back, handing Dante a ton of white little pills tightly packed in plastic wrap. Drugs. I'm not entirely sure of the type, but I've gathered enough evidence to know I'm caught in another illicit situation.

"You like drugs, honey?"

Dante is talking to me as he pulls out a pocket knife. He takes the blade, slicing through the plastic.

"She doesn't do-"

"I wasn't fucking talking to you!"

I flinch the moment Dante raises his voice at Harry. I can't stop my fingers from trembling as I whimper from the never-ending tears my fear permits. "I- No," I answer.

"Have you tried it before?"

Fuck. This.

I shake my head as I'm left to hope Dante won't force me to take anything. If he does, I just know I'll break and give in. I'm that fucking weak.

"Here, swallow this. It'll make you feel much calmer, I promise," Dante tells me as he releases a singular white pill from the plastic. He holds it out for me in his rough palm.

I shake my head again.

"Honey," he says, with a lower tone that sent chills running through me. I then gasp as the man invades my personal space even more. His mouth is near my ear as he threatens, "take it or I'll force it down your fucking throat."

I look at Harry through the threat. I'm searching for some sign of assurance. Do I take the drug, do I not? Does he have a plan to get me out of here or is he going to continue standing there? Our eyes meet for only a second before he looks elsewhere. I shouldn't feel disappointed or hurt to know Harry isn't somebody I could trust. I'm all alone in this.

I fucking hate being alone.

I'm tired.

HARRY

Motherfucker.

I watch Jo take what he holds out for her. It's so damn frustrating to think she isn't fighting back—but fuck, neither am I. I mean, there isn't much I can do. Jo, on the other hand, could at least run the fuck out of here.

No. Dante would go after her. He would find her.

"Good girl... Now swallow."

Perverted fuck. I shake my head as Dante strokes the back of Jo's head. She swallowed the damn drug and now it's only a matter of time before it kicks into her bloodstream.

I look at her again, watching her running tears stain her cerise-tinted cheeks. If she would have just stayed fucking quiet in the closet, I wouldn't be dealing with this.

"Now should we talk payment?" Dante speaks again.

Of course, he'd fucking charge her for something he offered. I scoff, just knowing Dante will try to scam her to get his way.

"W-What?" Jo says through a sniffle.

"That shit you just took is worth a grand," Dante lies. The drug she took is at most thirty fucking dollars. "You got a grand lying around, honey?"

I look over at fuck and fucker in the corner of the room. They look like fucking statutes as I glare at them. I have to remind myself they didn't tell Dante about Jo in the alley because all I want to fucking do right now is kill them. Liam for not warning me of Dante's arrival sooner and Louis for being the submissive fucker he is.

"N-No," Jo then responds to Dante's outrageous pricing.

He tuts again. The dirty motherfucker glances down at Jo's body. He runs unwanted hands down her trembling thigh. "Well, that's alright," he then says. "I know another way you can pay up, honey."

"No," I then say. I almost lift the gun off the desk behind me. Killing him once and for all wouldn't fucking benefit me as much as I would think. I'd be dead before I get a chance to flee—and I still have shit to take care of. I'm not risking it all for some lost bitch. I reach into my pocket for cash, instead. It seems as if scamming Blond out of eight hundred dollars in the morning came to bite me in the ass. I count the bills in my hand under my breath. "I have a grand... right here."

Dante looks at me and then at the cash in my hand. I step close to hand it over. Though, he's not taking it. He's shaking his head and I frown because I know what's coming. "Nah," he says and adds a chuckle. He then lifts his hand off Jo and stands up. "I'll let your bitch off the hook, Pierce... Take this as a you-owe-me. Oh, and make sure to keep your little runners in fucking check. If they ever steal from me again, it's on you."

I only stare at his fucked-up face blankly as he refers to the boys at the park. I remain still to depict I'm completely unfazed by him and his threat. I then lower the ten bills in my hand the moment he walks away and orders fuck and fucker to take his shit to his car. I tuck the money back into my pocket as the room clears.

Jo. I look down at her and it's already starting. She's no longer breathing uncontrollably, but she can't hold her head up.

I scoff because this is more than what I bargained for. "Jo," I say her name as I kneel to get to her level. She's sweating and she's so red in the face. I reach for her cheeks, pinching them together between my thumb and forefinger just to keep her head up. She's still awake, but she seems so far from here.

She only hums in response to her name.

This isn't the time to scold her, yell at her, or tell her she's an idiot. I only shake my head.

"Harry," Zayn comes through the door. "Your six o'clock- What the fuck?"

I let go of Jo's cheeks and her head falls back against the couch cushion. I stand tall when Zayn spotted the girl. "Is Dante gone?" I ask him.

Zayn sighs by the door without his black gloves on. He runs a hand through his dyed hair and nods. "He left with Louis and Liam. I finished with my client and your client left. The shop is clear."

I scoff and look down at Jo again. She grunts as the drug begins to take over her. "Close the shop up," I then ask of Zayn. "I'm taking her."

"Taking her where?" Zayn questions. He doesn't move from his place. "Why don't you call her friend to-"

"I'm not calling that bitch," I say quickly. "Fuck off and close the goddamn shop."

"But-"

Before I reach to lift Jo, I look over at Zayn again. "What? Do you think I'm going to assault her or some shit? Not that I give a damn, but you've got me fucking wrong if you think-"

"Alright," Zayn cuts me off, probably at the right time. I feel myself pant as I was close to detonating. "I'm closing the shop."

I heave a sigh and look back down. I bring a limp Jo into my arms. When her unsupported head tilts back, I curse when I see she's completely unconscious. On my way to the door, I grab her bag and my gun from my desk. I walk out seeing Zayn lock the doors in the front. I head towards the back to get to my car.

I'm able to lay Jo in the backseat of my car. I curse under my breath when I think I might've hit her head while doing so. At least she didn't feel it. I shut the door and get into the driver's seat.

To drop her off at a motel or to take her home.

I'm driving through the city. My fingers tap against the steering wheel as I look out at the road in front of me. At a stoplight, I bring a cigarette to my lips and light it up as I weigh out my options.

I pity her.

To think the girl came to me rather than her boyfriend or bitch of a friend is pretty fucking sad. If I abandon her at a motel after being roofied, that would be pretty fucked... even for someone like me.

I exhale the smoke from my lungs and reach up for the review mirror. I adjust it as I remain at a red light only to check on her. The only part of her that moves is her chest as she breathes.

Fuck Dante.

Readjusting my mirror, I hit the gas pedal a few seconds before the light turns green.

My fucking place it is.

I pull up in front of my loft building, driving into the parking garage and to my assigned parking spot. I get out of my car to get the girl after tossing my burnt-up cigarette onto the ground. People better mind their fucking business if they see me carrying her unresponsive body in.

I grab her bag from the backseat, tossing it onto my shoulder. I groan as I then pull her from the backseat to carry her in my arms again. I kick my door close and start heading into the lobby to reach the lift.

The ride up was quick. I arrive at my door, looking both ways down the hall before reaching for the knob to twist with the hand I had her legs hung over. I walk across my large living area to get to the black steel staircase.

How the fuck did I get stuck doing this?

I shake my head the moment I get to my bedroom. I don't have a spare one to put her in, not when I renovated the rooms to my liking. After pushing through one of the double doors, I get to my bed in the center of my room and lay her down. Her body sinks into the memory foam and her head rests into the white pillow. I put her bag down by her feet. That's when I realize I should probably take her shoes off. Though, that's about all I'll take off. I try to tug off her shoes, but the high tops of her white converse are hugged at her ankle a little too tightly. I groan out of frustration when I have to waste a few more seconds of my day to undo her laces.

My eyes shift to her bag the moment I drop her shoes onto the floor. Her phone is ringing. When my curiosity seeps in, I reach for her bag in search of her phone. As I pull it out, I scoff to find her shitty boyfriend calling.

It's taking a lot in me not to answer right now.

I keep staring at his name on her screen until it finally disappears. I do her the favor of turning off her cellphone.

What a piece of dry shit.

After tucking her phone back into her bag, I leave her there. She's alright, for the most part. She'll wake up in a couple of hours or will stay asleep throughout the night. I'll deal with her then.

I just need another fucking smoke and maybe a drink, too.

_

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mila.