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No Perspective
The man walked through the doors of the warehouse for his meeting with Jason in record time.
Jason's a dick, but he gave the man a shit ton of money.
That, and a bit of revenge.
Jason had said he wanted to talk to the man for a while now, a mission that might lead to a promotion if everything goes well. The man wouldn't have to sell drugs anymore to make his worth.
Or a lot of his worth anyway.
It had been obvious to him that Jason wanted something very personal to him, to use it of some kind. He didn't know what exactly. The man never cared about anything but himself and himself only.
He seemed to find it easier to live life that way. Not caring.
Jason was a bastard with a flawless reputation. Men killed the day after he had promised it. Nobody made it out alive.
The man was an assassin, a trained technological professionalist, a bounty hunter, and a drug seller. He was exactly what Jason needed. A young man who had acquired so many skill sets over such a quick period of time.
As he walks through the doors of the warehouse, he enters codes in doors he needs, and makes his way to the back of the building where Jason's office was.
Security guards watched him with a cautious eye, knowing his reputation as well. They didn't dare try him, or they would be on the floor, dead in an instant.
He was who he was. And he knew how to win.
Powerful strides are made with his legs as he takes each step, his boots pounding against the floor. The aura about the man was unmatchable, he radiated the need to fear him.
The warehouse always smelled like drugs, even within the working cubicles and offices of the large building in the middle of nowhere. It's a bitch to find, really. The man had achieved multiple things today, he had killed a man he had been hunting for a week, he bought some groceries and donated to a charity under a false name.
What? He liked to give back.
Stale air mixed with drugs and paint fumes was never a pleasant smell for someone who doesn't like drugs. Even for a drug dealer, it doesn't mean he had to like them.
He kept his pace towards Jason's office door which could be seen at the end of the hall. His combat boots made a pounding sound against the floor every time his feet took a step.
Pushing open the door to Jason's office was something he had only done a few times before, cautiously stepping through the threshold. He spots Jason with his back to the door and his phone to his ear, talking sternly and with purpose.
"Bombing might be necessary. Do it if you must."
Bombing? What was being bombed?
Jason must have heard the man enter, because right after he ends the call, he spins around in his black chair with a look of excitement and amusement laced within his features.
His fingers pressed together as his elbows rested on the arms of his chain. The leather sinking under his wrinkled skin.
"Ah, yes. I've been expecting you." Jason muses with a smirk almost identical to his bastard son.
Yes, the man know's of Harry. He hates him with a burning passion. All that he has been dragged into by him, the computer and technological needs.
"Interesting. Most people don't." He shrugs with a scoff. As a bounty hunter, he needs people not to expect him. He wants to be unexpected.
Jason rolls his eyes dramatically and points to the chair that sits in front of his desk. Jason wears a black button up that is almost too tight with blue jeans and boots. Military boots, to be specific, which is almost ironic considering the military would be appalled if they knew this was happening.
"Funny. Now, take a seat, please."
The man moves his feet to the center of the chair so his calves are pressed against the base of the chair before he sits down. His knees are bent higher than his legs, meaning the chair is honestly too low for him.
That was most likely on purpose, Jason making himself seem higher and more almighty then the man.
"I called you in for a multitude of reasons. Most of them need your skills to be involved." Jason says with a sly smile. His eyebrows raised, awaiting the man's answer.
"Go on." He demands with the wave of his hand, indicating for Jason to continue speaking.
Jason doesn't seem to appreciate the man's tone or action, but doesn't speak on it.
"My son, Harold, seems to be causing a bit of trouble lately." Jason continues with an evil smirk resting upon his face. The man leans a bit more forward in his seat, knowing of Harry Styles' reputation.
A boxer, a fighter, a winner.
Son of Jason Styles. This man had almost no limits.
"Harold Styles? 21 years old? Attends the Roski Art Program? Works at Chargers Fight Club whenever called in?" He recites off the top of his head knowing many details about Harry personally. The man tries to keep anyone that comes across his radar locked in his memory with data to match with a face.
A bounty hunter that has an excellent memory and knows his way around a digital networking system. Being able to hack almost anything.
"That is the one. Damn, you do know everything about everyone." Jason scoffs in disbelief.
"I try." The man shrugs his shoulders, slightly bored with the compliment. He gets that a lot.
Jason's face twists up in an angered look that was uncalled for and random. He leans even closer across the desk that sits in between the two men. His scruffy face and grayed hair is now closer to the man than he would like.
"Well let me shed some light on you. You don't have a clue about most of these people, so I'm going to help you out."
"What is the mission?" The man responds calmly. Not worried about Jason himself but merely his reputation along with his word.
He has to be very careful with analyzing everything that falls from Jason's lips while making a deal, not wanting any loopholes to be available within the verbal agreement.
"Do you know a girl with the name of Blake Leigh Anderson?" The familiar name falls from the lips of a dishonest man. The name of such a pure and beautiful girl that came across his radar as soon as he met her.
"Sounds familiar." He says, not indicating he knows much about her at all.
"Harold here, has seemed to grow close to the girl." Jason's slender fingers reach into his desk drawer, pulling out a nilla colored folder and flipping it open to reveal multiple pictures of Blake and Harry. "Here are some pictures."
Outside of Chargers. Entering an apartment complex. Driving alongside the campus roads. Malibu Beach.
Kissing outside of each building, sometimes seeming to fight but then pictures after them making out.
But what shocked him most was a night vision taken photo that seemed to be in a dark alleyway. The blonde girl straddling Harry as he sits in the front seat of his black Audi, the people inside visibly doing sexual activities.
Both chests are completely bare, the side of her tits being on full display. A photo of his mouth attached to her chest while her head was thrown back, her skirt ridden up.
It was repulsive that such volatile pictures were taken of them, especially by a man of such older age. They didn't know at all.
"Why do you have these?" He says with a disgusted look plastered on his face.
"Proof." Jason shrugs it off like it is nothing and not pornography.
The man had done a lot wrong in his life, but sexually violating someone was never one of them.
"What does this have to do with me?" The man asks with raised brows.
"Lots my dear boy, lots." Jason chuckled, a heavy breath flowing from his lips. "Blake seems to have become Harold's third. She is protected unless he does something wrong, but she is punished when he fails."
So what? Who cares?
"Did he fuck something up?" The man wonders, not fully understanding.
"A lot in his life, but particularly, I just don't like his existence, so I'm making it hell." Jason shrugs with a nonchalant expression. "My rules are that anyone who is not directly correlated to this industry, does not ever find out. Harold seems to be feeding Ms. Anderson more information about himself personally than I prefer."
"So what do you want me to do about it?" The connection between him and the victims in this situation is not matching up.
"Not much yet. I want her to know everything before you start." Jason explains briefly, but only making this conversation more confusing for the man who has only been selling drugs for this industry.
"You just said you forbid anyone from knowing anything." His hand lays flat out on the table now, getting frustrated.
"I look at her as an option, if you will. A pretty face who can be forced into doing jobs for me, using sex appeal to lower prices in between trades. She can also be collateral damage if necessary."
"So once she knows everything and is dragged in, what do you want me to do?" The man feels as if he has repeated himself over and over again, asking the same question that keeps being left unanswered.
"Break her." Jason replies simply.
"What do you mean, break her?" The man asking for clarification. He doesn't mind killing her, but breaking her? In what way?
"Make her think she's going crazy, send her anonymous texts, stalk her, kill her family members, I don't fucking care. Be creative." Jason explains, now leaning back in his spinning chair. He's honestly humoring himself at this point, leaving the man with so many unanswered questions.
"What's the point of this though?" Same question. Again.
"You'll learn in time. You won't be working alone." Jason says with a roll of his eyes. But as the words tumble from his lips, the man immediately stiffens.
The man works alone.
"No. I always work alone." He says sternly, his gaze hard.
Only a chuckle falls from Jason's lips.
"You do as I say or you die, smart ass. They won't be working with you, rather alongside you." His hands move with his words, making Jason seem more dramatic but also like an idiot.
"Someone needs to torture Harold's mind a little bit too don't you think?" Jason laughs, trying to crack a joke that wasn't funny. Why the man was wasting his time with this mission was unknown to him, but he did want to fuck around with this couple, destroy each but of happiness they have left.
Don't look so shocked. He is a sociopath after all.
"So where does this all end?" The man asks, pressing for more information before he agrees.
"When there are two gravestones with two names of a blonde girl and a brunette boy in the ground."
Dark.
The man liked it.
"What's in it for me?" He asks, wondering exactly how he will benefit from such a long and patient filled task.
"A promotion." The bland words are aired into the silence.
"Of what kind?"
"If done well, a raise by 1.5 the amount you currently make and a step up from a drug dealer. You can run a part of the cartel." Holy shit. A section of the cartel was a lot. "Deal?" Jason asks.
"Deal." The man responds standing up to shake Jason's hand with fervor. The identical sly grin that stretches across both of their faces was unnerving.
That was when Jason sat back in his chair and spoke the final words of the meeting.
"The drug cartel is fun, innit?"
***
A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter but the next chapter will be up in a few days to make up for it. I've already started. Enjoy and please vote!