tw: blood, murder/death (towards the end of the chapter)
ZARA
Big, strong men with guns strapped to their backs and holstered on their hips, walk through the loading dock area of the warehouse. The large shipment that we've been waiting for from Vasquez has finally started to arrive. Liz, who was here earlier, left for the day to go to another meeting or something.
Crates of drugs and weapons, disguised as bottles of champagne, liquor and other supplies needed for the club, are being pushed off of trucks and to the storage rooms. Warehouse staff will eventually sort out the logistics to breakdown and package the drugs accordingly to be distributed.
Zayn stands beside me, as we periodically check through the inventory and make sure everything goes where it needs to go. My eyes dart from person to person as I try to memorize who's who for when I work on my case notes. Most of these people I already know because we've been in contact numerous times since I've been on this case.
"Take those crates to Storage Room B," Zayn orders one of the employees before turning towards me and instantly my eyes roll to the ceiling. "Sweet Baby Rhe, how are you feeling?"
"Sweet Baby Rhe, how are you feeling?"
This is the third time he's asked me that since we've been here and each time, I've ignored him. It's been nearly four hours and I still haven't said anything to him, despite the many attempts at a conversation he's tried to engage me in.
"How's Pepper? Niall still using her to get dates? And how's Aubrey? I know she was in Turks recently." When I don't respond, he speaks again, "How long do you plan to ignore me, Rhea?"
"I don't have anything to say to you," finally responding to him. "And don't ask about my dog or my friends," I take a sip of my now-cold coffee from my tumbler.
"Rhea, come on..." He lets out a groan, "I heard you've been hanging out with Harry."
When I turn to face him, his eyes are narrowed at the cup in my hand, clearly reading "Pleasing" on the side and there's a disgusted look on his face. This is the first time he's mentioned Harry to me. I wasn't planning on discussing it with him because it's none of his concern and I'm not going to start now.
"That's none of your business, Zayn."
"Right," he runs a hand through his dark hair, which now has a patch of green in it. "Just be careful with him."
"Oh, and thanks for encouraging Jordan to come here."
His eyes widen, "You met Jordan?"
"Yeah, and she's a bit of a bitch."
No longer wanting to stand near him, I walk through the loading area into the building.
"Rhea!" Zayn calls he jogs behind me. My feet continue to carry me through the warehouse before there's a hand on my arm. "Rhea, wait."
I jerk my arm out of his grasp, "Don't touch me, Zayn." He simply puts his hands up in defense.
"I don't want to overstep, that's not what I'm trying to do. I'm just looking out for you."
My face twists in confusion, "You're trying to look out for me?" Letting out a scoff, I cross my arms over my chest, "You have some fucking nerve. You weren't looking out for me when you were cheating on me with... remind me of her name again? Mallory? Mary?" I know her name but I'd rather he say it.
"Molly," he huffs out.
"Molly. Right. Were you looking out for me when you were fucking her?"
"Rhea, that was a mistake. And I've apologized for it. But just because we're not together doesn't mean that I've stopped caring about you. I'm always going to look out for you."
"I don't need you to "look out" for me, Zayn. I'm fine. I can take care of myself."
"I know that."
"If you know that, why do I have to be careful with him?"
"Because I know him, Rhea. He's not... Harry has some shit with him."
"Like what?" Instead of answering my question, he just stares at me, so I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Everyone has some shit with them. I'm sure I can handle Harry if I need to. I know you two used to be friends. So if this is some," waving my hand in front of him, "jealous ex-boyfriend thing you have going on, save it."
Zayn scoffs, "I'm not jealous of Harry. Just trust me."
I laugh at his comment, "You want me to trust you, Zayn? That's hilarious." He opens his mouth to speak but I interrupt, "Also, what I do or don't do with Harry isn't your concern."
Another alarm on my phone goes off indicating that I have to go to XO to get ready for my shift. Releasing a loud sign, pinching my nose. I need a fucking nap.
"I'll take you to XO. I didn't see your car, so I know you didn't drive here."
"I'd rather walk."
"Rhea, we're across town."
"And yet, I'd still rather walk 30 miles than accept a ride from you. So, with that being said, I guess I should get a move on."
"God, Rhea, stop being so fucking difficult."
Rolling my eyes at him, "Even if I said yes, you rode your motorcycle here. I'm pretty positive that you only have one helmet with you. And you know how much I hate you not having one when you're on that thing."
"Sounds like you care a bit," he winks.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Rhea, Ubers don't come out here that often and you know it."
We stare at each other for a moment before I groan and as a response, a smile spreads on his face as if he knows I'm going to give in soon.
"Fine."
"That's my girl. Let's go."
Giving me another wink, he pivots and I follow behind him. Zayn checks in with Robin, one of the warehouse staff to ensure everything goes where it needs to go and then locks up.
"I have to stop by the office really quick."
As he disappears into the office, I wait in the hallway. Zayn emerges seconds later with a second helmet, I'm guessing for me because it looks like the one he got me while we were together. This one is shiny, navy blue with a subtle sparkle in it and it also has "rhea" artistically drawn on the back in Zayn's writing.
"Oh," his voice causes me to look up at him, "I always kept an extra one here for you, just in case, you know" there seems to be a little bit of shyness in his tone.
Turning on his heels, he continues leading me outside. A small part of me can't help but to think how cute it is that Zayn's kept a spare helmet for me. And I can't help the warm feeling that flows through me. But I instantly shake it off. No, Zara. It's Zayn. You hate him.
The memory of Zayn gifting me my first helmet flashes through my mind. We weren't dating at the time, just hanging out for the most part and getting close. I'd told him that I'd always been afraid of motorcycles but wanted to ride on one. One morning, he arrived at my house with a smile on his face and a helmet, decorated with a hand-painted sun, in his hand.
After spending time to assure me that I was safe and us slowly going around my block a few times, we ended up riding down the coast, salty ocean water filling the air and our hair blowing in the wind. That was the moment when I knew that I really liked Zayn, which was a complicated feeling for several reasons. The helmet now rests in the corner of a shelf in my closet, along with a box of some of his stuff that I haven't given back yet.
When we reach the parking lot, I hold my hand out to take the helmet, Zayn turns to me with a smile on his face and tucks the helmet under his arm.
"You have to put your hair back."
"Oh, yeah," mumbling to myself as I pull the hair tie from my wrist.
Silently, I take Harry's clip from my hair and put it on my shirt before gathering my hair into a ponytail. Putting my hand back out for the helmet, Zayn takes a step towards me and lifts it above my head but I jerk my head back.
"Zayn, no. I don't need you to do it."
"You won't put it on right. Come on, Rhea, for old time's sake." With a wink, a faint smile spreads across his face.
Dropping my arms to the side in defeat, Zayn lowers the helmet over my head and then lifts the visor up. The first time I'd gotten on his motorcycle, I accidentally put the helmet on backward only because I wasn't paying attention and I was nervous. So after that, Zayn would tease me about it and made it his job to put it on and fasten it for me. It became one of our things.
"There you go," he gives me two knocks on the side of my head. That was another one of our things.
"Zayn." He knows what he's doing, irritation fills my tone.
"Sorry, it's a habit."
With a slight turn on his heels, he swings one of his legs over the bike and once he's settled, his head turns to me as he waits for me to do the same. When my feet are on both pegs, I wrap my arms tightly around Zayn's body as the engine comes to life.
"Ready, babe?" His voice calls out over the loud sounds of the engine.
"Zayn, don't."
"Sorry," there's amusement in his tone, he enjoys this way too much.
With slight rotations of his wrists, Zayn kicks off and we roll out of the warehouse parking lot. Once we hit the road, Zayn is going full speed and my grip tightens around him. I have no choice but to pull myself into his body and I feel a sense of familiarity being this close. His smokey scent fills my nose, his back is hard and the material of the shirt is really soft as it's gathered in my fingers. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel nice.
The 20 minute ride is quiet with the exception of the motorcycle and other traffic. And at some point my eyes close, something that would happen while I rode with him. Zayn's coming to a complete stop and shutting off the engine is what causes me to open them slowly.
"Were you sleeping back there?" His voice teases, "I don't know how you did it but you'd always take a little nap."
"No, I wasn't asleep. Just had my eyes closed. I had a long day."
First, I hop off of the bike and pull the helmet off of my head and then Zayn does the same. Pulling a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket, he sticks it in his mouth before lighting it. He takes a long drag before pinching it between his fingers and extending it to me and I take it. Smoking is a small habit that I picked up while hanging around Zayn. Not that I do it much, just from time to time.
"Really? What happened today?"
This time, I take a pull from the cigarette and blow the smoke into the air.
I tilt my head, "We're not friends, Zayn. Don't ask me about my day, like you care."
"Would it be so bad if I cared about you, Rhea?"
I didn't notice that he raised his hand until it's smoothing out the hair on the top of my head— also something he'd always do.
"Zayn."
"No matter what you think of me or how much you hate me, I'll always care. And I'll always look out for you." He steps closer to me and places a kiss on my forehead. That warm feeling from earlier returns. I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it. "Sorry. Habit." Taking a step back from me, he gives me a small nod, "Come on, we should probably check-in with Liz."
"Yeah," is the only thing I can say before tossing the cigarette down and stepping on it.
Zayn and I walk into the club, entering through the back door that's used by staff. He lets me in first and slowly follows behind me. As we walk slowly, I can't help my body to become tense as Zayn follows close behind me.
It's been a few months since we broke up, and it may seem like some time has passed sometimes but I can't help but to feel nervous with him this close. Since our break up, I haven't stayed in the same room with him for so long. I either dodge him, if I can or leave the room. And I definitely haven't accepted any rides on the back of his motorcycle.
We don't talk... Well, I don't talk to him. He'll make comments here and there to get a reaction out of me but I generally don't respond. But holding him again felt nice and it made me feel something other than disgust or hate towards him.
The hall towards the club seems extremely long today. Eventually, Zayn falls into step beside me and I look over to him.
"Thanks for the ride," I mumble, just trying to get rid of the awkward silence between us.
"Anytime, love."
At this point, I feel that there's no need for me to try to respond or tell him not to call me that. Biting down on my lip momentarily, I release it before bringing my fingers up to my lips, biting my nails, an old habit that happens when I'm nervous that I've been trying to shake.
"Pepper..." I begin as Zayn's eyes dart towards me, cutting me off when he grabs my hand from my mouth.
"Don't do that. You're going to complain about your nails being uneven and jagged all night. Besides, you have nothing to be nervous about."
"You remember that?" I ask, now clasping my fingers together and twisting the ring on my finger instead.
"Of course, I remember," he shrugs. "Just because we aren't together doesn't mean that I just magically forgot about you. Besides, I've known you for four years, Rhea. I know you pretty well."
"Right. Anyway, Pepper is fine and yes, Niall still uses her from time to time. He has her right now doing God knows what. "
Zayn slightly shakes his head and chuckles before reaching for the door that leads to the general club area.
"I know you have pictures of Pep," he smiles sweetly. "Come on, let me see."
Aside from Pepper basically becoming Zayn's pet when we were together, I know he's just asking for pictures of Pepper to keep this conversation going and he knows I can't resist showing photos of my dog. It doesn't stop me from slipping my phone out and unlocking it, swiping past the missed calls and texts. The most recent photos of Pepper include us from the day Harry and I went to the park.
"This is us at the park a few days ago. We went running."
His head turns when I say that and his eyebrow raises, "You went running? Rhea, please, you don't run, love."
I let out a laugh at his comment, "Fine, we went for a bike ride."
"Yeah, that's more like it," he says, turning his attention back to my phone.
Zayn and I walk closely together as I swipe through my phone, quickly swiping past any photos of Harry or moving my phone away from Zayn's view. I don't know why I'm actively trying to keep those photos from Zayn. I guess it would be kind of weird.
Again, he opens the door for me and I step through and we walk towards the door that leads to Liz's office and XO: Fantasy.
"You know, this is the longest you've voluntarily talked to me in months?"
"Can you really blame me?"
"No. I guess I can't." As we wait for the elevator, there's silence between us and the silence remains as we step on and ride up to Liz's office.
When the doors open to the office space, Liz is moving around the office, phone clenched in her hand. Without knowing what's going on, I can tell she's pissed, her reddened face being an indicator. A low groan leaves Zayn's lips as his head dramatically swings towards me. We both give each other an annoyed, knowing look because we both know that Liz is either pissed, in one of her moods or something happened. It's never a quiet day in this business.
"Zayn and Rhea," she announces as we step into the office, "I have to fly to Miami. I need you two to keep an eye on things here for a few days."
"What's going on?" Zayn crosses his arms and shifts on his feet.
"Some shit with the inventory down there. I'll handle that. Rhea, I need you to make a stop at The Dive, later on. David was a little short on payments so I need you to take care of it. You know what to do. Zayn, go with her as backup."
"Don't I have to work the floor tonight?"
"No. Fuck your shift, someone will coordinate with Mikey, that's his fucking job here." Zayn and I look at each other but don't say anything. "I already told you that you don't have to work in the club anymore. I don't know why you still do it."
"I like it sometimes," my words are low as I tuck some hair behind my ear.
It's the truth, sometimes I hate it but most of the time, it's pretty fun. It gives me a tiny break from... this.
"Yeah, you already told me that," she grabs her purse, "I'll be back in a few days."
Liz grabs her sunglasses and slides them onto her face while one of her security guards, Marshall, appears from a corner of the room. Without another word, they both get on the elevator, leaving Zayn and me alone.
"Okay. So much for that check-in," I mumble when the doors close, flopping onto the couch in the office. "I can take a fucking nap."
Slumping down into the cushions, I drape my arm over my eyes and close them for a moment. My body is so tired and my feet hurt from all of the running around I've done today. Breakfast with Harry, going to Pleasing, going to the morgue, working at the warehouse and now at XO. Luckily, I'm not working the club tonight and I don't have to wear those god-awful heels. That means, I can rest for a bit.
"Not sleeping much?"
"Not really," the couch shifts next to me as Zayn sits beside me, which causes me to peek at him from under my arm. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just sitting here, Rhea," he chuckles before twisting the cap off of a bottle of liquor and bringing it to his mouth. "Are you going to take a nap or are you going to drink with me, you know for old times sake?" Extending the bottle to me, "You know you want to."
Looking between the bottle and Zayn, "Ugh, fine. Just a little bit. I still have to shower and go to hair and makeup," I snatch the bottle from him and pull it to my lips.
*** ***
Zayn and I have been drinking together for the past couple of hours. After I'd gotten showered, dressed and got my hair and makeup done here at the club, we decided to continue our drinking and random conversations. It may be the alcohol but it's been kind of nice not feeling anything but anger or annoyance around him, for once. It feels like old times with him right now.
It's been months since I've willingly hung around with Zayn. Casually going down memory lane and laughing together makes me think of old times. Things between Zayn and I were great until it wasn't. Although our relationship was complicated, to say the least— me being an FBI agent working on a case to shut down the operation that Zayn is affiliated with, as the main one— mostly because I'm too drunk to focus on those complications, we were good.
"Wait, remember when we went to Mexico and you stabbed that man's hand into the table." Zayn leans on the bar, bringing the glass to his lips. "Obviously, he was screaming his fucking head off but you started to scream when you realized that you did it? So, you were basically screaming in his face. I can still see your face," he laughs loudly, tossing his head back.
A chuckle leaves my lips, "Ugh, unfortunately. I had to beat you to it, you probably would have killed him."
"I was definitely going to. I think you apologized when you did it: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you were being gross and you shouldn't do that," using a high-pitched voice, he mocks me with a laugh.
We'd gone to Mexico for my first job-job. I think it was a way for Liz to test me and to see how I handle different situations and being in certain spaces of her business. Zayn and I went to a meeting and one of the guys kept touching me, like allowing his hand to caress along my arm or leg, touching my hair.
After a certain point, I got tired of it and I knew Zayn did as well, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and kindly used the knife that was harnessed to my leg and stabbed his hand against the table. It was the first time I'd hurt someone on the job.
"I was so proud of you that day," he responds with a laugh. "After that, I knew you were a keeper," he winks at me.
"I know, you told me," this time I chuckle as I take a sip from my own drink.
Tyler slides me another glass, since mine is close to being empty. Lucy approaches Zayn and I as we stand by the bar.
"I had to walk over here to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Zayn and Rhea? Whaaaaaat?" Her head quickly turns between the two of us, "Hanging out? Talking? Not arguing? Laughing and drinking together? Never thought I'd see the day again," Lucy teases us as she stands between us with her tray in hand.
"Had to liquor her up a bit," Zayn chuckles.
"Kind of sad that you have to get me drunk in order for me to talk to you."
When I push his arm, it causes him to stumble back slightly. To catch himself, he grabs my hand and I'm slightly pulled towards him. I look down at the familiar sight of his tattooed hand in mine. Neither of us move.
"If this was all I had to do, I would have done it sooner," biting his lip, he jokes.
We all start laughing and Lucy is about to say something but it's like we all stop at the same time when there's a presence right behind me and the familiar lavender-scent from earlier fills my nose.
Lucy's lips awkwardly twists to the side and she shifts on her feet, Zayn stands up straight from the bar and stares at the person behind me, and I freeze in my spot, slowly removing my hand from Zayn's.
"Uhhh," Lucy leans behind Zayn and quickly grabs the drinks waiting on the bar, placing them on her tray, "I have to go drop these off."
Lucy quickly looks at me, mouths an "I'm sorry" before walking off, leaving me here. She's not sorry.
"Hello, sweetheart," Harry's voice rings in my ear.
A warm hand finds its way under my jacket, slides around me and lands on my exposed stomach. I basically trip over my heels as he subtly but forcefully pulls me backwards into his body, away from Zayn. Meanwhile, Zayn's eyes zip to Harry's hand before they land back on mine, his jaw clenches.
"Hey, Harry," nervously, my head rotates slightly to look at him but I notice that he's looking at Zayn. "You made it," I awkwardly blurt out.
"Yeah," he looks down at me. "You never made it back to the store. I was starting to get worried since you didn't return my calls or texts," Zayn scoffs and my eyes dart to him but go back to Harry. "But I figured I could find you here."
"Oh, right. Some things came up,"
"I bet," he narrows his eyes at me briefly while his fingers press into my skin slightly. "How's Niall? Is everything okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, Niall! Everything is fine. Just... stuff, you know?"
"Cool. I brought your car, since you left it at my place earlier."
Harry digs into his pocket and hands me my car key. There's an exasperated sigh from Zayn and I feel that Harry did that on purpose.
"Thanks," I offer him a small smile.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," he responds before leaning down and kissing me on the cheek.
This is something that he's done plenty of times but for some reason, this time it causes me to pause for a moment.
It could be the fact that there's some display of intimacy with another man in front of my ex-boyfriend that suddenly makes me nervous and I start to feel warm. With Harry intensely staring into my eyes and Zayn's glare on the side of my face, I don't know why I feel embarrassed and awkward.
I mean, it's not every day that I'm standing between my ex-boyfriend and the guy I'm hooking up with— who just so happens to be his former best friend. Zayn's presence shouldn't bother me but it does.
Clearing my throat, "I thought you had that dinner."
"I do but I wanted to see you first. Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?" Harry gives Zayn an annoyed look.
"Um, yeah, sure." I turn to Zayn, "I'll be back."
"Don't be too long, we have things to do, Rhea," Zayn glares at Harry but doesn't say anything to him before grabbing his drink and taking a large gulp.
When I give him a small nod, with Harry's hand moving to my lower back, I guide Harry and myself through the side door to XO: Fantasy. Through the dark blue-lit hallway, we pass by a couple of the girls who are working here tonight before ending up at the unoccupied room that I see. The bright lighting of "Room 6," our private dance room that's equipped with a pole, surrounds us as we step inside. Harry finally removes his hand from my body and crosses his arm over his chest.
"Why are you hanging out with Zayn?" It's like he couldn't wait for the door to close to say something.
His question catches me off guard, "What? I'm not hangi-"
"Well," he cuts me off. Oop! "That's what it looked like you were doing. You two seemed pretty close. I saw you. Laughing, joking, holding hands and shit."
"Huh? How long were you here? Were you just standing in the shadows watching me?"
"I didn't want to interrupt."
"You never had a problem with interrupting before. And it seems that you have a habit of randomly showing up at my place of work."
"You invited me."
"I thought you were coming after your little dinner meeting or whatever. I didn't know you were coming here now."
He steps closer to me, glaring, "You would have known if you answered your fucking phone, Zara," Harry raises his voice and lets out a groan.
"Look Harry, you may talk to your employees however you want but you won't keep speaking to me like that. And if you must know, I was fucking busy today, so sorry, I didn't answer or respond."
His hands slips into his pockets, "Were you busy working? Or were you busy fucking Zayn?"
My mouth drops at his comment and I shift on my foot, "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"
Narrowing his eyes, "I said: were you busy fu-" he begins to repeat but I interrupt. He was really about to repeat what he said.
"Are you fucking high?" I'm only asking because how and why would he even ask that but also, he may actually be under the influence of something.
"A tiny bit," his response is nonchalant and dismissive.
"Wow, okay," an annoyed sigh passes my lips and I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I'm a little too buzzed and tired to deal with whatever this is. So, I'm going to, respectfully, ask you to leave."
"Zara," his tone is softer as he attempts to bring his hands to my waist but I step back.
"No, Harry, I have things to do, I can't stand here and argue with you. Go to your dinner and come back to me when you fix your attitude."
"Fix my attitude?" He scoffs as if he doesn't have an attitude problem right now.
"Yes. You're being an asshole right now and I don't want to deal with it. So, you can go, Harry," with a flick of my wrist, I wave him off.
"Whatever," he brushes past me and walks towards the door, opening it.
"Bye, Harry."
My voice comes out a little smug and I know it gets to him when he turns to look at me as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. Instead, he flips me off.
"Unfuckingbelievable."
After a minute of standing in the room, assuming that Harry should be gone by now, I walk back down the hall to the main area of the club. Seeing Harry and Zayn talking to each other stops me in my tracks. Zayn is using his hands a lot, which he does when he's mad. With his hand in his pockets, Harry speaks in a hushed tone, pointing towards the door that I just came out of. It doesn't look like they're going to fight or anything, just having a slight disagreement, most likely about me.
As I approach, Zayn stops speaking and looks at me. Harry glares at me from over his shoulder before brushing past Zayn and leaving out. Once I reach the bar, Zayn slides my drink towards me.
"What was that about?" I ask him before taking a sip.
"Harry's just being a dick. Told me to stay away from you, so I told him to fuck off."
"Yeah... I also basically told him to fuck off and to come back when his attitude improved." Zayn stifles a laugh as he looks at me. "I'll deal with him later."
The rest of my drink is gulped down, "I'm going to take a nap before we head over to The Dive. You know where to find me if you need me.
When he gives me a nod, I begin to head towards the locker room where there's a couch set up. Once there, I flop on the dark green velvet and take a much-needed nap.
*** ***
Zayn and I pull up to The Dive and as I park my car, he kills the engine to his motorcycle. He hangs his helmet on the handle and hops off while I adjust myself after getting out of the car, slipping my phone and car key into my pocket.
"Let's get this over with. I want to go home," letting out a yawn.
Reaching into my car, I slip my gun underneath the driver's seat. This should be an easy visit, so I don't really have any plans on using it. For the most part, I've been able to fly under the radar when it comes to killing people on Liz's behalf. With the occasional exception on my end, Zayn is usually okay with doing it. I'm still on a case and can't leave a trail of dead bodies around.
We walk through the back of the dive bar. The warm and dank smell fills my nose as we go in. Since it's almost three in the morning, the bar is officially closed and the only people here are the sketchy people that Liz works with. There's a conversation going on that gets louder as we get closer.
Two people are present near the bar: one on a stool, David, and one behind the bar, probably a bartender. Despite my black heels against the floor, they don't know we've arrived until Zayn speaks up.
"David! How's it going tonight?" He exhales the cigarette smoke that he inhaled as we were walking in.
David, the one we are here for, and a young woman about my age behind the bar turns to look at us.
"We heard you all were a little short on your payment," I mention as Zayn basically corners them as we stand on opposite ends of the bar.
When I approach the bar, I hop on top of it and swing my legs while blindly reaching back to grab a bottle of whatever my hand finds. Ugh, vodka. This will do.
Twisting the top off, I bring the bottle to my lips, "And we're here to collect."
"We weren't able to sell all of the product, so we didn't have all of it," David is the first to speak. "We just need a few more days."
"Yeah," Zayn inhales sharply, "Liz doesn't care and neither do we," he adds with a shrug.
"Where's the money?" I ask David.
"We don't have it. If we ca-"
"Shut up," cutting David off, I rotate my body towards the young woman behind the bar. "You, put your hand up here."
I don't think I've seen her before and she probably doesn't have anything to do with this. But that's not really my problem right now. She's hesitant and when I raise my eyebrow she slowly raises her hand and lays it flat on the bar. As she does this, I slip my knife out of my pocket and leave it at my side, so she doesn't see.
"Where's the money?" Zayn repeats the question that I asked previously.
There's silence amongst all of us. David is definitely in over his head and shouldn't have started working with Liz. It's a shame really but he brought it on himself. He knew what he signed up for and also brought in some random innocent person who's going to pay for his mistakes.
"We're not going to ask again. So you have 10 seconds to give it to us or..." Zayn trails off.
"O-o-or what?" The woman behind the bar genuinely looks scared and confused.
I give her a menacing smirk, "Want to find out, darling?"
She gulps at my response and shakes his head.
I don't really want to hurt this girl because I feel like she has nothing to do with this. She's probably just working at the bar to make extra money for college or something. It'll be stupid of me to assume but maybe she doesn't have any parts in this business and it's a "wrong place, wrong time" kind of thing or maybe she's new to being apart of this world. But at the same time, there has to be a lesson taught.
"What's your name? Are you new here?"
"Winnie. Well, Winona. But everyone calls me Winnie. And yes, I'm the new bartender."
"Well Winnie, David has 10 seconds to give us our money or you will start losing some fingers." I tilt my head to the side and look at her, " Zayn, start the count."
"10...9...8..."
I keep my eyes on Winnie as Zayn counts down from 10. My hand grips Winnie's wrist and I squeeze on it tightly, keeping her in place.
"7...6... 5...4...,"
The knife that I've had at my side now appears on the top of Winnie's twitching fingers.
"Please don't," Winnie begs.
"3...2..."
I'm ready to cut her pinky off when Winnie's other hand is now on my wrist and my arm is suddenly twisted around and upwards. The knife drops out of my hand and scatters to the floor.
"Fuck!" I yell out.
There's a gunshot in the air on Zayn's end when David pushes past Zayn and runs out.
"Zayn, get him."
Heavy footsteps retreat from the room and I am pushed back off of the bar and onto the floor. My forehead bangs against the floor, sending vibrations through my head. Before I can fully recover, I'm then grabbed from the back by my hair.
"You stupid little bitch," Winnie mutters.
Winnie drags me across the floor by my hair, forcing me onto my back and I reach up to claw her hands away. When I grab hold of a couple of fingers, I pull them back, pretty sure that I broke at least two. She groans out in pain, releasing my hair.
"Fuck you," I spat out before rushing to my feet with my fists up. "You fucked up, Winnie."
Without a word, she steps towards me and swings but I jerk back, air whipping past my face. This gives me a chance to throw a few punches into her chest and stomach before giving her an uppercut. She stumbles back but recovers quickly and hits me in the face, near my eye.
For a minute, fists fly as we both throw punches and hit each other before she grabs my arm, twists it behind me, turns my body around so that my back is towards her and makes me kneel to the floor. She then presses her heavy Doc Martin boot into my back and pulls my arm straight out. Fuck, she's about to either break or dislocate something. A painful groan leaves my body when I hear and feel a snap in my shoulder.
"Fucking hell!" I cry out as my body falls to the floor seconds later.
I'm so tired right now, slightly drunk and my shoulder is broken. This can't get any worse.
My eyes wander around the floor, as I try to crawl away, trying to regain some strength and catch my breath. The blade of my knife glistens beside the broken neck of a liquor bottle and I attempt to reach for it, a couple of pieces of glass piercing into my palm.
But Winnie has other plans when she grabs one of my ankles and pulls on it, which causes my other ankle to twist sharply before I hit the floor again. Winnie flips me over onto my back, straddling me.
"I heard so much about you, Rhea Meadows. Ray told me all about you and Zayn. People are scared of you, for some reason. But I knew I could handle you. Not so big and bad now are you," a fist collides with my cheek. "Zayn is probably dead," another punch. "And now you will be too," punch.
"Fuck y-" my words are cut off by her hands around my neck as she chokes me.
"Which is a shame because you're so pretty."
My right arm lays slack on the floor, so I try to use my good arm to get her off but it doesn't work. The air starts to get thick, my head gets cloudy, I struggle to breathe as the seconds pass. There's a smirk on Winnie's face as she chokes me and it gets blurry as my vision becomes cloudy.
And this is how I die.
My mind flashes with images of Niall, Aubrey, Sophie, Pepper (oh my god, my baby is going to be all alone), my parents, Zayn, Lucy, Harry.
Harry?
"Nighty night, Rhea."
Hell no, I can't die like this. I won't die like this. Then, I hear Liz's voice: "Fight until you no longer can. Someone isn't going to make it out, make sure it's not you."
She provided that small piece of advice a while ago and it's probably the most logical advice she's given me.
Zara, get the fuck up!
Using the little bit of strength I have, I hit her in the nose with the heel of my palm and she loses her grip on my neck and that gives me a chance to scramble back slightly to grab the neck of the broken bottle. Winnie's hands grab me again as she attempts to put them around my neck again. I keep my grip sturdy before swinging my arm up and stabbing her in the neck.
Shock.
Droplets of blood fall onto my face as her eyes widen at the impact and she looks at me. Fear quickly takes over her face and the realization that she's about to die sets in. She looks at me for comfort.
"Fuck. I'm sorry," my voice comes out soft and sympathetic. "I'm sorry."
Why am I apologizing?
There's a gasp of air as she brings her hand to her neck. Blood oozes and covers her fingers. For a few seconds, a gurgling sound comes from her as she chokes. But it stops short when her eyes get low and she collapses on top of me.
Warm blood pools onto my skin, and on the floor around me. My chest heaves up and down as I try to catch my breath but it's a little difficult with Winnie on top of me. I attempt to push her off but struggle because I have no energy. I'm able to shrug her off slightly after another attempt.
Gasping out for air, "Zayn? Zayyyyyn!" Silence. "Zayn!" I cry his name out again but there's no response. "Ugh," I groan out, "Okay. Zara, relax. Catch your breath for a minute. Breathe."
I whisper to myself before closing my eyes to get rid of the spots I'm still seeing from the lack of air. Inhaling and exhaling, I try to calm myself down.
"Breathe."
I'm not sure how long I've had my eyes closed but the sound of a hushed voice causes my eyes to flicker open. But my vision is still hazy. The voice seems far away until it doesn't.
"Rhea. Rhe. RHEA!" This time my name is yelled out and the voice is closer.
My eyes shoot open at the sound of my name and Zayn is rushing over to me. My body feels light and I realize that Winnie is no longer on me as she lies on the floor beside me, face down on the floor. Her cold, dead eyes are slightly open, staring at me, a broken bottle neck in her carotid artery. I must have gotten her off while I was in and out of consciousness.
"Zayn. Zayn!"
"What the fuck happened?" He looks at Winnie's body beside me before looking at me.
"Bitch tried to choke me to death. Stabbed her in the neck. I blacked out for a bit."
Wincing, I start to pick out the large pieces of glass from my hands, tossing them into the floor. Seeing that I'm done, Zayn hooks his hand under my armpit, avoiding my hands, to help me up.
"Owww," I groan out in discomfort while I'm raised to my feet.
"What's wrong?"
"I twisted my ankle and I think she dislocated my shoulder." Zayn bends over to pick my knife up from the floor and slips it into my pocket.
"I got David. He's alive, just had to call for some back up to take care of him. And we have someone coming to clean up."
"They're working with Ray. Winnie said something about Ray as she was choking me."
There's a grimace on Zayn's face as he looks at me. "You need to get home. And you might have to get stitches," he points to my head.
I look down at my body and see I'm covered in blood. "Ugh. I'll wait for clean up to get here."
"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. Go take care of yourself, Rhea. Let me know if you need anything."
He gives me a concerned look and places his hand on my shoulder. Silently, I nod my head and slowly walk to the bar. Grabbing two bottles of whiskey, compensation for my pain and suffering, I limp out of the bar.
What a fucking day.
~~
a/n: I said there would be chaos in the next few chapters. This one kicks it off because there is more to come! Let me know what you think. Vote/comment with your thoughts.
Outfits for this chapter:
— xo, j