a/n: this chapter will take you on trip down memory lane. most of it is retold through harry's perspective with a dash of extra content to better understand the narrative. we'll jump back into real time after this one <3
chapters referenced: 30, 32, 39
________
HARRY
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
FOUR WEEKS AGO
I hate this.
I fucking hate everything about this.
"That wasn't the plan," I say to Vamp through the line. Standing in the middle of the casino floor, I look around to see a sea of people completely scattered.
"Yeah, well it is now. You make her play the Triple Seven slot machine and obtain that check."
"No," I huff. "I'm leaving her the fuck out of this. She's not going to gamble while she's here anyway. So I'm sticking to the original plan... the one where I steal the check from whoever hits the rigged jackpot then bring it to you."
"Dante wants you to use her. You don't really have a say, Pierce. He wants to see her name on that check."
Fucking hell.
He knows.
"Why?" I question. "Why, all of sudden, change the plan? Why her?"
Smacking his lips together, Vamp then heaves a sigh. "Shit, I don't know... I mean, it would save you the fucking hassle of having to stalk a stranger and steal their check."
That's not why.
I've discovered a few things about Jo—things she's completely unaware of. I've yet to tell her that her whole life has practically been a lie, but I can't bring it on myself to break the news. She's been through enough already.
Dante knows what I know. He knows where she comes from and the type of blood that courses through her. It has to be the only reason why he's making me involve her in his laundered money scheme.
"I want to talk to Dante," I then say to Vamp, knowing the risk that comes with trying to bargain with the Devil.
"Sorry, Pierce... I can't help you there."
I lean over the bar tabletop, underneath the gazebo built in the middle of the floor. I sigh when I'm running out of choices. "Vamp, wait... If I do this, we leave her alone for good."
The fuck chuckles again. "Listen, I know you're obsessed with her or some shit. You know, after killing someone for her... but if Dante says to do it, do it."
I tighten my jaw as he only feeds the hatred I hold towards one of the men who has ruined my life. "I'm not obsessed with her," I snap and let my eyes look over at the bottles of liquor taunting me on the shelf behind the bar. "In fact... I'm planning on ditching her the moment we get back to LA so—"
"Good. Then use her and ditch her. What's the problem?"
Fuck. I rub my face when speaking out of my ass has dug me into a deeper hole. "But we can't use her anymore. That's where I'm getting at."
"Yeah, yeah... I'm sure we won't. Just bring back the check."
I hang up the phone, dropping it onto the table in front of me out of frustration.
I was never supposed to bring her here in the first place. I was already on my way to Las Vegas for the stupid check Dante wanted. I was never supposed to show up at her apartment either.
I wanted to warn Angel of the things I know.
But of course, the minute I left her alone, danger pursued her.
I dig nails into my palm over a closed fist when my need begins to itch for relief. I groan because no matter how bad I want to get shit-faced, I have a job to complete. I have to remain loyal, but only for the meantime. I have to do what he says until I take down the motherfucker myself.
"Can I get you a drink?" I'm asked by the bartender.
"No."
I walk away after leaning off the bar to approach the floor again with my phone in hand. I'm about to head towards a poker table as a better way to blow off some steam, but then I see her. In her little green dress, she squeezes through the crowd. I start following her, huffing to myself when I remember the little game she started in the bathroom this morning.
God, she's annoying.
She enters the hallway of the restrooms and when I follow her there, she's disappeared. I sigh, leaning my back against the wall across from the women's restroom to wait for her. I begin to wonder where she's been all day.
I had a feeling she wasn't going to come back to the hotel room by the time I gave her.
I cross my arms, going over the abrupt change of plan that now involves her. I wish I could say I shouldn't have gone back to her apartment that night, but I can't. She would've been dead if that was the case.
She walks out of the restroom a few minutes later and with a small grin, I say, "Caught you."
I watch her suck in a breath as if I had startled her. Her eyes then look me up and down when I lean off the wall to step closer. "I- That's my shirt," she points out.
I grin, forgetting I've been walking around in her bright yellow t-shirt a bit too tight on me. Not having a spare t-shirt, I didn't think she would mind letting me borrow it. "No, shit?" I sarcastically remark after looking down at it on my body. "That's kind of sad... That you bought a t-shirt indicating you will die lonely."
Though, they were fitting words for my kind of fate.
She moves, saying something about the t-shirt, but I don't really pay attention. I only hum as we step aside. By the wall again, I lean against my left shoulder as my eyes shift to the same dress she wore the day I asked her to take a walk with me—the day her now-dead friend groped me. "Like that makes it any better," I mumble in response to whatever she said. Her bold red lip almost taunts me the more I stare.
"How'd you find me?"
"I came down to gamble," I say, which had been partly true. I came down to gamble but also to wait for the rigged slot machine to go off after seven. Shifting the attention before she can ask any more questions, with another forming grin I then say, "But I told you I'd find you if you didn't come back to the hotel room. You kept daddy waiting."
Her pretty painted lips turn into a smirk. She closes the space between us by taking a step forward. Her hand touches my chest when she says, "Oh, no... I didn't mean to keep you waiting, daddy. I went to get my nails done. Do you like them?"
She shouldn't have done that.
I lean off the wall, taking her wrist in my hand when she teasingly drags it down towards my abdomen. I break my stare from her mouth to then look at the set of nails. "It's pretty, baby," I let slip, which makes us both freeze for only a minute. Meeting her eyes again, she emits a soft hum and her back touches the wall behind her.
Silently, she reaches over and my lips part when she touches my lip. "Yeah?"
Fuck me.
"Yeah," I respond, looking into her eyes again when something takes over me. With her fingers so close to my mouth, I allow my tongue to drag along her forefinger when I find myself wondering how sweet her rawness would taste.
She has me that fucking weak and it's so fucking annoying.
I pull from her finger with a sharp suck. I watch her gasp as my unfiltered mouth runs, "Your pretty manicure would look better around my cock, though."
I'm going to Hell.
"I bet it would," she whispers before slipping her hand from my hold to begin walking away.
I let her walk ahead as I reach for the phone in my back pocket. With over thirty minutes until seven P.M., I can't let her out of my sight.
I have to do what I'm told. Even if it makes me the biggest asshole she's ever known—or just another liar in her life.
"Not escaping me this time, D'Amore," I say as I catch up to her.
___
I've killed time as the hour approaches. With her watching me gamble, I figured she would be intrigued enough to want to play as well. Manipulative, I know.
She adjusts the strap of her bag onto her shoulder again after I've dropped all my chips into it. "I wanna gamble," she then shares, looking at me with her mind already set as we walk.
"No way," I spit, as if I'm trying to convince her I'm opposed to the idea. I am, I remind myself. I am opposed to the idea of having to use her but my rights to do otherwise have been stripped. To add on to my act, I then say, "Let's just cash the chips and get out of here."
"I said, I wanna gamble."
Reverse psychology twistedly plays in my favor. I stop walking when I realize she's already stopped and standing a few meters behind me. I turn and so does she. I watch her walk away and almost fade into the crowd of strangers, but I catch up.
"D'Amore, wait!" I call and she stops near a row of slot machines, but not the one I need her to play.
"What? I'm not asking for permission-"
"Chill out," I interrupt as I come to a stop near her. I then look around in search of the specific machine I had been eyeing. "I was just going to advise you to play the Triple Seven slot machines."
Here we fucking go.
When she asks where they are, I huff from the frustration I already feel from what I have to do. I start walking, leading her to where I want her.
Shit.
I stop when there's a woman already occupying the specific machine, the one with the highest jackpot, that I need Jo to play. Though, she's packing up to leave by chance.
After she asks me why she can't play a vacant slot machine, I explain, letting her know she wouldn't win much with such a low jackpot.
It's almost seven. Looking up at the bright screen above our heads with the date and time displayed for all to see, I dig nails into my palm again.
I then step forward, reaching for the chair after the woman—who could've been my potential victim—leaves. I pull it out to let her sit. "Alright, try this one."
When she sits, I begin to explain to her the game. With a hand resting on the back of her chair, I direct her into playing higher bets with a twenty dollar bill. She nods although remaining a bit clueless as she asks, "What do I do now?"
"Just press the spin button," I instruct, but I don't look at her as it's officially after seven. "and hope for the best. Good luck, angel."
I'm such an ass.
She begins to play and I grip at the leather of her seat. The more she spins, I grow impatient when the rigged machine hasn't gone off. I shift from one leg onto the other as I remind myself that it's coming. It has to come.
The fucks behind the underground money laundering scheme in this casino haven't failed to do their parts before. That's the thing, I've done this before. I've patiently waited for specific slot machines to go off only to mug innocent people one too many times.
"Are you praying?" I ask her when I notice she closes her eyes, hovering a hand over the button.
Because if she is, this makes it so much fucking worse.
She shushes me and that's when I straighten my back.
Fuck this. If anything, I'll face the consequences. I'll have to execute the plan to take down Dante faster than I had planned. Knowing this is something she really wants, only to take it all away is the lowest of low.
I've been there before.
But before I can stop her or suggest to try another machine, she hits the fucking jackpot.
The chimes go off, excessively loud when three red sevens perfectly align on the screen before her.
"Holy fuck," I mutter because now there's no turning back.
As nosy fucks then begin to look our way, stare, and point at the girl in utter shock, I look at her again. "Jo?" I want to grab her attention. "You there? You know you just fucking won, right?"
I hate this.
"I- I won?"
Swallowing down the building hatred I fucking have towards Dante again, I say, "Three hundred ninety-four thousand fucking dollars, yeah."
"No! You're kidding," she squeals out, covering her mouth with glossy eyes from sick disbelief.
I wish I was.
Corruptly, I laugh.
When she begins to breathe a little too quickly, I lift my hand. I touch the back of her head before sliding my hand onto her cheek. Here comes the lies. "Hey," I begin, stroking her cheek to have her look at me. "You won, now breathe."
She's nodding, trying to regulate herself as she meets my stare. "What now?" She innocently asks.
"Now we wait for-"
"What if I'm dreaming?"
"You're not." Unfortunately.
"No, but what if I am?!"
I hate myself.
Forcing out another laugh, I slowly shake my head. "Jo, you're not."
With a heaved sigh escaping her lips, she practically yells, "Dammit, Harry... Kiss me!"
I stop, pausing from what she asks of me. I'm fucked. This is bad—so fucking bad, but the angelic face only urges me to nod and come closer. "Okay," I mumble with my eyes on her red lips.
I'd be lying if I said I've stopped thinking about those lips. I haven't.
I kiss her, letting my mouth crash against hers. The taste of her lipstick melts onto my tongue as the pigment stains my lips, but I don't mind. I kiss her as if she's fragile. I hold her cheeks as I'm not a fucking liar.
Her hands grip onto my arms as if she would sink into the ground over my deception.
I part, my eyes falling on her slightly smudged red lips to see her whimper in a gasp.
"See," I say softly, caressing her cheekbone with my thumb. "You're not dreaming."
___
Guilt.
It's been eating me up alive. The more she talks about her winnings, the more I want to blurt it out that she never really won. The money isn't hers. It was never hers.
I convinced her not to take it to the bank. I warned her of the people who target jackpot winners like her knowing it's me she should be vigilant of.
I'm so fucking pathetic.
While she decided to excitedly treat herself with a shopping spree, I didn't try hard to stop her. I knew her situation well. With fucked parents who don't care enough about her, she needed the money to survive on. Yet, I had to take it all away in the days to come.
"Zayn... I need your help," I said, dragging in another person to deflect from the mess I created. Sitting in an area by the dressing rooms of a store, I called him while Jo shopped around.
"With what?" He mumbled through the line as if he had just woken up from a nap.
"I need you and Sutton to come down to Vegas," I asked of him with a bouncing leg.
"Vegas? Shit, for what? If it's to mug... You know I don't do that shit anymore, Harry—"
"We're not targeting anybody," I assured him. "I just need you guys to come... for Jo. To distract her."
"To distract her from what?"
I sensed the seriousness behind his tone. It's almost as if he knew what I had done without telling him. Or maybe it's just the guilt fucking me up.
"From... from everything. Just say you'll come, yeah?" I said, hoping it was enough to convince him.
Zayn heaved a sigh over the phone. "I mean, I guess. Shit has been happening down here... Is this fucking rivalry ever going to stop?"
I paused from his question, tightening my jaw when it was one too complicated to answer. When Dante is dead it will stop, I want to tell him. Though, I can't. I've worked too hard to have one slip ruin everything.
"Are you coming or not?" I then pressed.
"Where?!" I heard Sutton's voice over the line. Figuring Zayn must have me on speaker, I jumped to say, "Vegas. I'm here with Jo. We're staying at Caesar's and I know it would make her happy to see you guys."
With that, I've seemed to have Sutton sold and ready to convince her boyfriend to come down to Vegas. Though, I sighed in disappointment when they couldn't come as soon as I wanted them to.
I needed them here before I do something stupid.
And I did do something stupid.
I tried my best to keep her content. I did everything I possibly could to distract the both of us from how this would all end.
The moment I attacked the man who tried to grope Jo at the strip club we ended up in, I lost it. I could still hear her voice and the panic that engulfed her when I wouldn't stop kicking.
Panic engulfed me, too.
I couldn't breathe. With the tremor in my hands being uncontrollable that day, I was beginning to feel fucking drained. It wasn't until she kissed me after dragging me out of the place where I've felt the most secured I think I've ever felt before. My heavy breathing had slowed down, but I couldn't even look at her when she parted.
And then I ditched her the very next morning to cope the only way I've ever been taught how.
I always thought addicts were fucking weak.
Being raised by them, I've convinced myself that they never really cared enough about me to stop.
With every minor inconvenience that came their way, my junkie parents would slowly kill themselves while I waited around to be fed. I watched it all until they finally did kill themselves.
They could've stopped if they wanted to.
But when they love meth more than their own child, it isn't far fetched to think that child might just be unlovable.
What's the point of being here at all if you're just unlovable?
"Harry," I hear her voice when I tightly grip onto the railing of the balcony of our hotel room.
"Shit," I mutter, because she's caught me at a really bad time.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" I let out a laugh through the break of sweat from the shit I voluntarily put in my body. I sigh, looking down at the distorted ground from many flights up. "I'm just... imagining."
Imagining what it would be like if you would've never met me.
"Imagining—what?"
I share to her my vulgar thoughts of what it would be like to just die. I think it scares her because her pretty face grows pale. I hum, just wanting to touch it, caress it, and maybe even kiss it, but I stumble past her instead.
"Relax," I mutter under my breath as I make my way towards the couch at the far end of the room. "Not actually going to do it... I still have shit to do."
Like killing Dante.
When she asks what I mean by that, I chuckle. "There's a lot you don't know," I say.
Like the fact that your entire life might be a lie.
Picking up the keycard of our hotel room to continue where I left off, I use it to straighten the little white lines in front of me. Then, for a split second, I think I side with my junkie parents—this is a good way to cope.
I hear her say my name one more time, but I deflect by leaning forward to intoxicate myself even further.
___
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
I lied to her face.
To think this trip had one purpose, I never expected to be as vulnerable as I was with her. Though the push and pull and friction I kept creating had been an effect of self-sabotage—but most of all, guilt.
I tried to hold on by extending our stay. I simply did not want to return to the place where it meant I had to walk away. Things derailed rather quickly, however, the moment I came face to face with the person holding a name I deeply resent.
How he found me was still a fucking mystery to me, but it was what ultimately pushed me to get the hell out of Las Vegas. Now I could only hope my threat was enough to keep him the fuck away.
If he hadn't bothered to look for me before, he shouldn't bother now.
Arriving at the apartment complex we escaped from initially, I park my car by the curb. I look to my right only to find Angel sleeping. The streetlight gave me enough light to let me memorize the details on her face.
I hate this.
I promised her that I would do everything I can to return that lost check back.
Little does she know, I can't. Little does she know, I'll make them all pay for the toll this loss will take on her.
She'll be fine, I attempt to convince myself the more I watch her sleep. I'm aware she might not have anything left the moment I walk away with her check, but she'll survive.
I almost scoff at how pathetic I might sound. I look away, already trying to plan ways of how I could help her. Maybe I can start by threatening Blond to begin paying her for her unpaid time. Or would that be wrong? The moment she realizes I have abandoned her for good, she'll hate me enough to never want anything from me.
She's awake. I find out after having to do a double-take. I watch her look around before finally saying, "Hey... We made it."
She looks dazed from a long nap as I open the door to exit my car. Expecting her to get out of the car, as well, she doesn't. I have to duck down only to see her remain sitting with a scared expression on her face.
Of course, she's scared.
As if it would make things better, I tell her, "It's okay to go inside. It's spotless..."
Eventually, she gets out of the car. As I grab ahold of all her things, I walk with her into her apartment complex and she remains silent through it all. The silence is far from comforting knowing I had some part in ruining her life.
"Alright, I'll let you rest now," I tell her the moment we've made it into her place. After setting all her things down, I sigh and lie through my teeth when I say, "As I said, I'm going to be making a shit ton of calls tomorrow for your lost check."
"You're leaving?" She asks and I know she's disappointed.
"I have to go," I say because I know that one more night with her will only make things harder. I can't continue to lead her on. I've already fucked up by admitting I wanted her again.
I think she's pretending to be unbothered the moment she turns away. "Just... yeah, keep me updated, I guess."
I'm such an ass.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'll update you." And with that, without giving her another look, I walk away from her as I attempt to escape the guilt following me. I leave her apartment, make my way out of her complex, and I struggle to breathe the moment I get to my car. I drop into the driver's seat and fish the phone from out of my pocket to get this over with.
I call Vamp.
"Yeah, hello?"
"I... made it back..."
"Fucking, finally!" Louis laughs through the line. When I hear loud music coming from his end, I frown. This fuck is out at a party, I conclude. "Why do you sound so out of breath for?"
Before he could even make a joke over the pants I can't seem to tame. I swallow and say, "Because... I just killed five more Angelos tonight." I find myself lying again, but this time it's a lie that would benefit me.
"Wait, for real?" Vamp asks me before bursting out into a laugh. "Pierce, you fucking psycho, we might just get rid of them all again. Listen, I'll report that to the big man. Now, do you have the check or not?"
If Dante continues to think more members of the rival gang are dead, the more the cards play in my favor. I'm aware I'm playing the riskiest of games when it comes to him. For all the shit he's done, I won't stop until he makes it out dead—even if it costs me my life, too. "Yeah," I then respond to Vamp. "I have the check."
"Good. I'll meet you at the shop?"
I nod, starting up the engine of my car. "Yeah, I'll meet you there," I say before hanging up on him. Tossing the phone to the empty passenger seat Jo had previously occupied, I sigh.
I had to do it, I tell myself for the billionth time as I drive away.
__
i feel like i shouldn't have to tell y'all, but cut the comparisons. i know you love duplicity, but this isn't that. it's called having common tropes.
thank you so much for reading! i hope this brought you some clarity on the purpose behind harry's betrayal. oh, and did anyone catch a major hint i've been hiding up my sleeve?
much love,
mila!