D A M A G E D • HS

By boatzandhoez

25.8K 490 191

"They were two damaged souls fighting to stay above water. Little did they know all they needed was each othe... More

INTRODUCTION
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268 4 1
By boatzandhoez

ARLO P.O.V

9:30 am, I'm sitting outside of a large warehouse a couple of miles out of town, secluded from the world.

It's Monday, a day and a half after the party. That's a day and a half of me not seeing, being near, or touching Harry. It's been fucking hard.

He called, and texted me a solid hundred times. My phone for the past day and a half has been non-stop buzzing.

It hurts seeing his name pop up on my phone, but not being able to answer.

It got so bad to the point that I put him on mute. I almost broke yesterday night when I was laying in my bed on the verge of tears from how cold I felt, but I didn't. I had to remind myself that my father knows who Harry is, so keeping my distance from him is the best choice because it ensures his safety.

His safety, and life is far more important than my deep rooted need to be with him. I won't put him in danger, even if it's killing me.

My Sunday consisted of me wallowing in my bed, wrapped up in a hoodie that's Harry's. It still smells like him. Vanilla and tobacco. The only way I could relax and not have a full on panic attack was to have some reminder of him to comfort me.

My chest fucking hurt the entire day, I felt dead inside, feeling like my old self again. I just want him so badly, but then I think about him getting hurt, or possibly dying because of me, and that reminds me that this is what's best for him.

I'm dressed in a pair of plain black leggings, Harry's gray Nike hoodie, and a pair of black and white Converse. I know wearing his clothes is stupid, especially if I'm meant to be moving on from him, but I can't let go of him, not yet, and probably not ever.

I'm sure years, or maybe even months down the road he'll eventually move on, and meet a beautiful girl that will take his breath away. She'll consume his thoughts day in and day out, and any memory he has of me, of us, will fade away. He'll eventually marry her, have kids, and spend the rest of his life content and happy by her side.

I don't think I'll ever find someone new. It's stupid to think that because I'm only seventeen and still have the rest of my life to live, but the way Harry made me feel is something I know deep down I'll only ever expierence once in my lifetime, and that was with him.

While he's off going on dates with his future wife, I'll probably be lost in thought, thinking of him, and only him to feel something other than the inevitable numbness that will resurface.

That is resurfacing

I'll live the rest of my life out alone, like it was written in the stars since the day I was born.

My thoughts are abruptly interrupted when a tap on my driver's side window vibrates from the side of my head.

I turn to see Miller twiddle his fingers, waving at me connivingly. I roll my eyes, and turn off my car. I grab my phone, and tuck it into the
pocket on the side of my leggings.

I swing my door open, the soles of my shoes crunch against the loose pieces of scattered gravel. I reach into my center console, and grab my claw clip to put my hair up.

"Morning Arlo." He smiles at me, I'm taken aback at the fact that he didn't use my full name. "We have a long day ahead of us."

I hum boardley, locking my car, and stuffing the keys into the pocket of my hoodie. Miller texted me yesterday informing me that I have to prepare for the next drop, plus go over a bunch of shit.

Normally, I would be upset at the fact that I'm missing school for the sole fact that I wouldn't get to see Harry, but right now I'm thankful I have an excuse not to go.

"Great." I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest, and peering down at my shoes. My stomach is twisted in a tight knot. Being somewhere that my father used to, or I guess somehow still does run makes me sick inside.

The day he went to jail, was one of the biggest breaths of fresh air I ever had. The idea of not being around, or having anything to do with him felt incredible. Sadly something else ruined that peace.

"Come on, I'll show you the way, and introduce you to everyone." Miller motions me to follow. I swallow the small bit of acidic bile in my throat, and trail behind him.

We round to the back of the warehouse where more cars are lined, hidden from the public unlike mine.

My skin runs hot from nerves. I cover my hands with the sleeve of my hoodie, needing some form of solace to calm me down. Maybe going to school would have been better than being here.

Shit like this makes me feel as if I'm walking on a tightrope, off the ground, and if I slip, I'll fall into a never ending anxiety attack that only will end when I hit rock bottom.

We both near a large opened garage style door. No one is on the inside, but there are two guys who are posted up on either side of the door, dressed in black slacks, and black button up shirts rolled up to their elbows.

Even though I can't see them, I can guarantee they have guns somewhere on their bodies, ready to pull it out, and end someone's life.

"This way." Miller nods his head to the inside of the warehouse. I gulp and follow in his footsteps. The two guards don't bother to glance at me.

It's relatively empty inside, but the walls are lined with shelves of God knows what. I don't hear or see anyone making me think there is a lot more to explore, seeing the amount of cars that were outside.

Miller walks at a quick pace, not giving me any time to thoroughly examine anything. I cross my arms over my chest, and catch up with him.

Inhaling Harry's scent gives me some sense of calmness as if it was a stress relief lotion. The lighting inside is dim, and has a soft hue of yellow. Personally, I think bright white LED lights are better than the gross yellow, but to each their own I guess, plus it's a warehouse full of criminal activity so the hue of the lights is definitely the last thing on their minds.

Miller bursts through a metal door without warning. I can hear a quiet wave of chatter go completely silent. I rush inside before the door slams in my face.

What a gentleman

I roll my eyes at the thought. People who lack simple manners really grind my fucking gears to the max. It's not hard to display decent human interaction. At the same time, I feel like the biggest hypocrite for thinking that.

"Who's that?" I break out of my thoughts, and register that I'm standing in an open room full of unfamiliar men. Not really that full, but there's a solid fifteen guys in here.

The layout of the room reminds me a lot of that Gedeon guy's warehouse. I don't get what attracts criminals to warehouses so much, but it's kind of stupid if you ask me. I feel like it's obvious, but I'm not some master, lying, conniving, horrendous, criminal, so do I really have a valid say of opinion?

"Boys, this is Arlonza Steele, but she goes by Arlo." Miller announces. I turn my head, and squint my eyes at him suspiciously. I have no clue what game he's playing by finally using my preferred name, but I'm keeping a close eye on him— on every one really for that matter.

"Fuck out of here, that her?" A guy with semi pale skin, and short black hair points to me. His jaw slightly dropped as if it's hard to believe.

"In the flesh." Miller catches me off guard when he grips the top of each of my shoulders, and gives me a shake. I flinch, and ram my elbow backwards into his gut as a defense mechanism.

"Don't touch me." I gasp as I jump away from him, and hug myself for comfort. His touch made me sick, I hate it. My shoulders especially have always been a place I hated to be touched.

Miller doubles over, and grips his stomach. "Fucking hell Arlo, you didn't have to elbow me." He grits as he rolls his body up straight.

I ignore him, and glare. I feel so uncomfortable, like I'm being exposed. Everyone with their eyes on me, sizing me up and down, aware of who I am, but I have no clue who they are.

Standing in a room full of men who work for my father makes my skin crawl. I wonder which of the men in here have been keeping an eye on me in the shadows when I wasn't aware.

Which of these men reported to my father about Harry? Whoever that guy or guys are, I swear on my life, I will slit their throats for putting my Harry in danger.

"Anyways—" Miller grunts, straightening his clothes out. "Arlo has a lot to go over, and cover today, and I'm going to need help to get through it all."

I furrow my brows curious as to what exactly he means. What does he exactly mean by cover? From all that I was made aware of, I'm only supposed to be going over the drop that is coming up on Saturday.

A lot to cover doesn't exactly fit the simplicity of going over some details in my book.

"What do you mean?" I narrow my eyes to slits, trapping him under my gaze, refusing to let him escape.

"You'll see." He ominously says, with a sickening smile that makes my insides twist in a way that is meant to warn me. "First things first, we're going to go over the details of this next drop."

He begins to walk towards the long table in the center of the room where the majority of the guys in here are sat. He stops, and turns towards me, motioning me to follow.

I take a careful step towards the table, feeling everyone's eyes piercing through my skin like I'm something on display at a museum. People who know things about me that I'm not aware of, gazing at the very thing that has a place on the endless shelves of knowledge they have stored in their head, without a doubt asking themselves more questions that will never be answered...maybe.

We reach the table, Miller, like a gentleman for once in his fucking life, pulls out a chair for me to sit. I take a seat next to the guy who spoke earlier, expressing his shock of seeing me in the flesh.

I can feel the guy's eyes burning into the side of my face, making sharp prickles to erupt all over my skin. It's always uncomfortable to have someone stare at you while they are close.

I was only ever comfortable with one person

I glance over at him, not able to take his staring much longer. My eyes connect with his plain brown eyes. He smiles with his teeth in an almost friendly manner.

"Uh, sup, I'm Kato." He introduces himself, awkwardly stretching his hand out for me to shake like this is some normal business meeting with normal colleagues, and not a meeting to talk about illegal activities.

I ignore him, and turn facing my line of sight at the head of the table where Miller has taken a seat. From what I can tell, Miller has a lot of authority here, which isn't what I was expecting at all.

I assumed he was someone lower in the sense of importance, and authority because he's the one always running around trying to get me to talk to him like some lap dog. I guess take matters into your own hands if you want things done right, but it still doesn't make much sense. Why, if he does have power like I think he does, is he the one doing the dirty work of stalking someone, and tracking them down to deliver messages, like a messenger from back in the day?

Miller props his elbows up on the table, and folds his hands, setting them down. "The drop coming up Saturday is very important." Miller begins. "We have to be prepared since we are meeting Mika, you know he always has something up his sleeve."

"Fuck, not Mika." One of the guys groans. "He's always a fucking pain in the ass."

"I know, that's why we have to go in deep, and be prepared to get dirty if need be." Miller states with confidence. "Mika has some powerful foreign weapons that boss wants to get his hands on. Mika agreed to sell us the weapons for some of our premium grade supply."

"Why is Mika interested in drugs, I thought he was only into foreign goods like cars, and weapons?" The guy, Kato asks from beside me. "Doesn't Mika hate that shit? He's always bitching about how selling drugs is low level, bummy shit."

I have no clue what they are talking about. I can grasp the context of most things since it's rather obvious what they are talking about, but Mika, and why no one likes him, feels like gibberish when it plays in my ear. I don't know who this Mika guy is, but he seems like nothing but trouble.

Miller sighs, sinking into his chair. "I don't know, and I don't like not knowing, that's why I'm wanting us to be extra precocious, especially since Arlo is going to be leading the drop."

"What?" I blurted out, sitting up stick straight. "What do you mean, I'm leading? Fuck no, just cause I did the last time doesn't mean I need to again! I thought I was only leading last time because the dude wanted to do the drop with someone related to my father! Why am I leading this one?"

Miller's lips roll into his mouth. "Look Arlo, I get it, but your father specifically told me that you are to lead the drop, and none of us can exactly disobey him, but don't worry—"

"Don't worry." I scoff, shaking my head. "Don't fucking worry. God, this has to be good, please enlighten me on why I shouldn't worry about running point on a drop, which I've only had experience of doing once, with some guy that is clearly trouble."

"Because you'll have us by your side." Miller explains. "The drop with Gedeon isn't traditionally how most of these deals go. Gedeon specifically is just...naggy."

His words earn a course of laughter from around the table like I'm missing some inside joke.

"How do they usually go then?" I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, and my legs over one another.

Miller leans forward, looking directly into my eyes. "Usually, we go in a small group, about five of us at most. We have one person who does all the talking, which is the leader, aka you. Two of us usually stand guard, watching for any suspicious movements, and the other person or people, help assist you, such as handling the briefcase, and other luggage. They're also there for extra protection because you never know with these people."

His words put me to rest a little bit, the fact that there are going to be people by my side is somewhat calming, but I will never be fully calm.

"So what? I'm going to be spending the week here practicing possible scenarios that might go down on Saturday?" I cock a brow up, wanting to know what exactly I'm going to be doing here in the warehouse.

"Yes, and no." Miller answers. No one else besides Miller has answered, and spoken to me when I had a question, which only confirms that I was right about Miller being some kind of leader.

"Yes and no?" I echo back in a question.

"When you're here at the den, you'll train to be prepared. We will show you skills you need to have for specific scenarios, but you'll be getting more practice before Saturday." Miller turns his head over his shoulder, and beckons for a guy, who is one of four men standing posted up in each of the corners in the room.

The guy brings over a stack of folders to the table, and starts to hand one out to everyone.

"This Wednesday we have a mission coming up." Miller begins to narrate. "The hospital is having a huge banquet slash auction. We have confirmed word that a very special ring is being auctioned off that night. It's called the ring of tears. Boss has explained to me that he has a connection to a buyer who is very willing to spend a hefty amount of money for the ring."

Following everyone else, I open the folder to see what's inside. A picture of a pale gold, almost silver metal is wrapped around a giant teardrop shaped diamond. It's flashy, beautiful, and clearly worth a lot of money.

"I have come up with a plan to go to the auction, and steal the ring so we can sell it to the man interested in it."

All that comes to my mind right now is curiosity on how my father can get all this information, and report it back to Miller whilst still being in jail.

"How are you always in contact with my father? How does he always have missions for you guys to go on? He's in jail." I question him.

"Connections." Miller shrugs his shoulders, not really answering my question.

"So what exactly is the plan for Wednesday?" A guy at the table asks.

Miller smiles, and pulls out papers from his folder, which is thicker than the rest of ours. "Ravi." He slides a paper to the guy who just asked the question. "You're going to be Axel Singh, the co-owner of Lee and Singh Pediatrics."

He stands up, and walks around the table, stopping next to Kato. He drops a piece of paper in front of him. "Kato, you're going to be Parker Lee, the other half of Lee and Singh Pediatrics. The two of you will attend together, being our eyes and ears in the room."

"Jax, Marshal," he points to the two guys on the left of me, "you'll run your usual point, hacking into the security cameras, and keeping an eye out when we steal the ring from the van."

"And as for you Arlo, you'll be with me. You're going to be my little sister, Emma Cardwell. I'm going to be Edgar Cardwell, a new hot shot, fresh out of residency, surgeon."

I roll my eyes at how smug he sounded explaining the fake persona he's going to be playing. For it being fake, he sure is taking a lot of pride in it.

"Won't people recognize us since it's for the hospital? Also, what if something goes wrong, and they have our faces on camera?" I ask.

Miller chuckles, pointing at me repeatedly. "Disguises, Arlo. We are all going to disguise ourselves to make us look unrecognizable. We work with a team of talented people who do whatever the fuck they do to change the look of us completely, and they do it well."

"So we won't look like ourselves at all?" I raise an eyebrow up, waiting for confirmation.

"Exactly." Miller affirms.

Wednesday is only two days away. I feel sick thinking about carrying out a mission, especially one that is highly illegal, and done in a public place.

I might act tough on the outside, but that doesn't mean I'm some badass, who doesn't give a fuck about doing illegal activities.

I'm depressed, not mad at the world, feeling a deep need to cause chaos just to feel like I'm getting the revenge I deserve.

I know the universe didn't hurt me, but people did, and those people will be the ones who suffer, not the innocent.

I can hear Miller's voice saying something, but I can't hear the words as my mind shifts from what's in front of me, to what I wish was in front of me.

I wish I was staring at Harry right now as he talks about something stupid like over anslyzing a scene in one of the shows we watch all the time, or trying his best to explain lacrosse to me, so that when I go to his game I won't be so confused. I wonder what he's feeling, and thinking about at this very moment.

Is he thinking about me as I think about him?

I just wish life was easy. I wish it wasn't as complicated as it has been so far. It's not normal for a person my age to have to go on dangerous missions for a reason they aren't quite sure of.

My father forcing me to do this is something I'm puzzled about. He hasn't given me a clear reason other than the fact that he's being his usual cunty self.

My father has always been a cold man, there is only one time out of my entire childhood I remember where he was an amazing father. It felt like I was spending time with someone completely different.

He played with me, took me out for ice cream, and brought me to the beach. It was because of that day in particular that I fell in love with the beach.

It's stupid really, that my father, who is basically the devil himself, was nice to me for one day, and everything we did I latched onto like a baby blanket.

The connection between my father and I that day was so strong, and electric. I remember how the aura around us was shifted so dramatically. It felt different, but incredible.

I spent the rest of my days wondering if I was ever going to get that father back, but he never returned. He continued to be his cold, empty hearted self.

My body jolts up when an unfamiliar touch sparks on my shoulder. In my startled state I look around the room, and notice that almost everyone is standing up staring at me.

"Welcome back to reality, Arlo. It seems you zoned out." Miller muses. I blink not giving a response. "Get up, it's time to start training."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N: this is my shortest chapter yet, I know after almost two week of not updating a shorter chapter isn't the most ideal, but I've been pressuring myself since the book started to always write 5k plus words per chapter.

Moving forward, I'm not going to stress about the word count. I'm simply going to write, and not stress about finding ways to make a chapter longer.

Often times, the word count is what keeps me from updating often. I hope this doesn't bother you guys :)

See you in the next one
-iz

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