Harry.
Beeping—that's what I heard as I tried to open my eyes, a loud pounding sound echoing through my head. I groan and twitch slightly as my body aches.
My eyes immediately opened while the beeping continued, only to be greeted by blinding lights. I slammed my eyes shut once more and groaned. What the fuck happened?
I gasped and opened my eyes, adjusting to the intense lighting in the space. Machines hooked up to me—the loud beeping continued. My whole body is in excruciating pain while I groan and attempt to sit up.
Fuck
What time is it? Zayn is going to kill me.
I don't remember anything; but from the looks at it, I'm at the hospital. I don't know how I got here or why. I looked around and ran a palm over my face. " Fuck. Where is that flash drive?"
I groan closing my eyes. The pounding on my head was only getting worse. I adjusted myself on the bed and tried to control my breathing. I need to get the hell out of here.
The door swings open as I reposition myself on the bed, and I stare over in disbelief as I try to absorb who I am looking at.
Never in my life did I expect to see her. She was blinking rapidly when she spotted me and was equally shocked. She was wearing a pair of black leggings, one that hugged her curves, and an oversized hoodie—one that didn't belong to her.
It looked familiar, though—the black outline on the front of the hoodie—and the way it fitted her body, it was all too familiar. Then it dawned on me: it was my sweatshirt. I gave it to her one night when it started to rain and she was cold.
I swallowed forcefully and looked over at her face. She had radiant skin, bright brown eyes, straight hair that was lighter blonde than the last time I saw her, and more noticeable freckles on her cheekbones and button nose.
I hoped it wasn't who I wanted it to be when the door opened up again. I'm glad my prayers were answered. When Louis appeared, I saw his face drop in surprise with mine.
Louis looked like he just got out of bed; his eyes were red, he was wearing a white t-shirt and some grey pants, and there were some dark marks on his neck.
Louis looked over at me, and I shook my head. Not a single word was said between anyone. "What time is it?" I grumbled, looking away from her. My heart felt like it was being squeezed repeatedly as I stood up from the bed.
"Harry," she calls out my name, and I close my eyes, feeling like a knife was dragged across my heart and thrown at the ground like it was nothing. I hated the way my name sounded on her tongue, but I loved it as well and missed it. It hurt to see her in front of me and not be able to kiss her or hold her.
"It's four am, Harry," she says softly, so soft that her voice sounded angelic.
" Mariana stop."
"Fuck," I murmured under my breath. "I have to go." I ignored her again and looked down at my arms—so many wires stuck to me.
" No." Mariana uttered, taking a step forward, "Are you crazy? You just got into a car accident; you cut your head open and had a concussion."
"Car accident?" I finally brought my eyes to her, confused, and looked at Louis behind her. "Car accident?" They both nod when I say the words again. treating me gently. " What? How? I don't remember."
I raise my hand and feel the rough spots where the stitches were, where the pain was shooting the most fiercely. I took a deep breath and withdrew my fingers.
"Should I call Juliet?" At the sound of her name, my eyes shifted over to Louis, as did Mariana's.
" No." I shook my head, and Louis turned to face Mariana with an expression of utter disapproval as if Mariana were a monster. "When—how—did I get into a car accident?"
"Around an hour ago, we weren't allowed into your room until now," Louis speaks up. "I think Juliet will kill me if I know you got hurt and didn't tell her." I shake my head while Louis continues.
Mariana was perplexed, and ideas sparkled in her eyes. I remember that look—that look when she had something bothering her head or when she was automatically assuming the worst.
"Who's Juliet?" I can sense Louis and her waiting for my response as the room goes silent.
Who is Juliet?
My friend? She wouldn't consider me her friend. Your girlfriend? never that. Someone I'm supposed to be protecting—I don't even do my job. someone I offend? Yes.
"It's not important." I shake my head and make an effort to turn away from Mariana, but each time I do, she is a reminder of what I've lost. Of course, I could've had it, and I missed that part of us. That part of us nobody saw.
Mariana crosses her arms over her chest, and her face shows off anger, raising an eyebrow, lips falling into a thin line. "I have to go," I announce again. "I have to do something with Zayn."
Mariana glared at me fiercely, something I see in Azriela all the time when she is angry "You're not going anywhere, Harry," I took a deep breath. "You need to stop doing these deals with Zayn; do you not remember the last one?" I gritted my teeth.
"Mariana enough." Saying her name felt bitter, especially when she was standing only a few feet away from me. Mariana took a few steps towards me, and I took a step back and shook my head.
"I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, Harry, but when I got the call, I was scared." I swallowed staring into her hazel eyes. Memories flooded in my head of when I would stare at them all night long, her full, plump lips, and how I would spend all day kissing them. Guaranteeing her a future filled with whatever she desired.
"I thought—I don't know, but I knew I didn't hesitate to get into my car and come here. I thought you were fucking dying like that time you and Zayn went on a mission to who knows where."
"Mariana stop." I glanced around the room to check if Louis was there, but he wasn't. He better not be called Juliet. Why did he leave me with her alone?
"Don't tell me to stop, Harry." She takes a step closer to me, and I swallow, glancing down. "I'm so sorry, okay?"
"I said stop," I shouted louder and tore the cables that were attached to my arms. "Mariana, I don't want to hear a word you have to say. Just give me some space. Stay away from me; you could've easily stayed home."
I looked around the room, trying to find my stuff— "I wanted to see you." Midway through opening a drawer, I stop myself, taking in a sharp breath.
I had so much anger in me from the last time we ever saw each other. When we had our daughters, "Well, I don't want to see you." I murmured and found my clothes tucked in a drawer. I wasn't going to sit here and talk to her today, argue. I didn't have time and I didn't have it in me to explain how she made me feel.
I turn around to look at Mariana, raising my eyebrow. "Get out. I need to change." Like the stubborn girl she is—she turns around, crossing her arms over her chest.
blowing out a breath. "What do you want from me, Mariana?" Pulling my pants up, letting it hang loosely around my hips. I grab my shirt and put it on.
"I want to see the girls." I stop all my movements. " What?"
Mariana turned back around and desperately looked at me. Her eyes dipped down my body, looking at the waistband on my hips. Fixing up my pants drawing her attention away.
"Are you fucking insane?" I raised an eyebrow, breathing out a dry laugh, and she closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Harry, I'm better now."
"You're better now?" I laugh and look away. "Fuck you, Mariana, no, you're not seeing my daughters." I shook my head and put each ring back on my fingers.
"They're my daughters too." She whispered, so softly that I almost missed it. Turning around to look at her one last time, I tried to memorize her, knowing this would be the last time I laid eyes on her.
or so I thought.
Her eyes, her hair, her lips, her freckles
"They stopped being your daughters the day you walked out of the hospital. You're not seeing them, Mariana, and that's final. I'm their full legal guardian, and as their father—who has been taking care of them for almost four years—no, you cannot see then."
She continued to look at me, but I looked away. I sucked in the feeling of never having her again and walked out of the room.
"You better not have called Juliet." I gritted at Louis feeling my phone and the flash drive in my pockets.
"Okay, where are you even going, dude? You can't just leave the hospital." I was still in the process of walking out, ignoring him. "Your car is a wreck."
"I'll take an Uber," I murmured, and I heard Louis grumble something walking next to me. "Let me drive you."
I said nothing, silently agreeing. " Where are you going?"
" To the jets."
☆
Getting onto the plane, I was met with a very angry Zayn. He looked pissed, finishing off his blunt. "You're late," he murmured, watching his breath.
"Yeah, no shit." I clamped my jaw shut as I stared into his eyes, which had emotions much like mine. Something his mother taught him and something his mother taught me. When the time comes, learn how to be emotionless.
Rose showed us how to maintain the best poker face possible by keeping our thoughts to ourselves. "Where were you?" he asked—the doors behind me closing. My pilot only nodded at me once before going into the cockpit.
" Hospital," I grumbled. He stayed silent for a few minutes, and I watched his eyes shift towards the side of my head, close to my eyes.
"What happened to you? Is Juliet okay?" I nodded.
"She wasn't with me." That's all Zayn needed to know—what does he care if I'm fine or not? Reaching into the small bag I brought on board with me, I tossed it between the empty seats between us. "We need to analyze Justin's clients and divide them between the two of us. I have all the locations of his warehouses, with all the security codes and information about when the guards are on duty. Justin also has cargo coming from Spain."
"Do you know what the cargo has?" Zayn arched his brow.
"What we've been looking for," I said, his lips tugging up into an amused smile.
"What time does it arrive?"
" Midnight. It gives us enough time to get the other things we need." Zayn stays silent, looking over at the numbers on the paper—the exact time of the cargo and the passwords of each warehouse.
"Do you know if any of these warehouses have high-security systems?" I nodded while exhaling.
"According to Niall, Yes, He will disassemble all cameras and fingerprints from back in the States, but given the internet connection in Trinidad and Tobago, it is not the best so I told Zayn to stay there."
Zayn nods. "Are we targeting his biggest warehouse? What does it have?"
" His biggest warehouse is divided into three sections, firearms, cocaine, and money." Zayn's lips tug up into a smirk.
" What kind of firearms?" Zayn asks, grabbing a piece of paper and his eyes scanning the names numbers, and places of future clients.
" Bombs, automatic guns, cannon, missiles, and anything you can imagine."
Zayn only nods—a nod letting me know that so far our plans to steal everything are running smoothly. Hopefully, it stays like that.
When we landed in Trinidad and Tobago—Port Of Spain—we were greeted by our security, who drove us to our hotel, which was around an hour away. It was a nice hour to relax and enjoy the beautiful view in front of us—the country, the people around us, the houses.
Before we had to leave for work, I had a few free hours. After changing in my room, I headed outside in search of anything to eat or do to kill time.
I slide my hands into my pockets enter the restaurant and move toward the bar. A woman who is wiping down the counter beams at me. "Welcome; how can I help you?" she reaches behind the counter and pulled out a menu in black and red. Her brown skin flowed from the sun that peeked through the big windows behind me, and her pink hair was pulled back in a ponytail away from her face.
Her glossy pink lips tipped up into a smile, and she walked away, giving me a few minutes to think about what I wanted to eat.
When she came back I order my food. A burger and q glass of whiskey. When the woman nodded and turned to leave, I was distracted by the sound of my phone ringing in my pocket.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, looking at the contact's name.
Juliet.
One by one, texts arrive after the call ends.
Juliet sent at 12:18 p.m.
Are you going to ignore me the entire day?
Answer me, Harry.
I'm worried.
And once more, she calls, and I merely look at the phone. I wasn't going to answer—I didn't need her to worry even more about me or be stressed about where I was.
Juliet should focus on herself and her problems rather than me and my dumb cut. I switched my phone to silent and took a few drinks from my glass cup after picking it up.
I was worn out. With little to no sleep, I needed to have enough energy for tonight. I still had a crazy amount of pain coming from my head—it felt like a knife was opening up my stitches and dragging the knife through my cut.
I can't remember much about the accident; all I remember is leaving the girls' hotel room after gathering the information I needed and leaving the building.
I was aware of my tiredness, but I don't believe I dozed off while driving, nor was I excessively drunk. It might have been my reckless driving.
But for now, I didn't know. Grabbing my phone, I called the nanny, "Hello?"
"Hello," I said, clearing my throat. "Are the girls awake?"
"Yes," Ciara says anxiously, "I was getting them ready for their afternoon nap; would you like to speak to them before?"
" Yes." Ciara hums, and after a few seconds, I hear a faint humming followed by the loud squeals of the girls.
I immediately smiled, hearing their voice. "Daddy, I miss you." Azriela giggles through the phone.
"Hello, Marceline and Azriela! I miss you girls more. How are you doing?"
"Good!" Marcey answers for both of them. "Daddy, later C (their babysitter) is taking us to the park." They never learned to say, Ciara, so they always say C.
"Oh?" I smile, "I wish I could go to the park." I grinned "So come home, Daddy!" Marsey sighs.
"I can't, little love; Daddy's working. But when I go back home, I'll take you, girls, out for pizza, ice cream, and parks. How does that sound?"
"Yes!" they both yelled, "And can I get lots and lots and lots of sprinkles, Daddy?" Azri asks
"Of course, you can get lots and lots of sprinkles." They both giggled.
"And I want gummies in mine." As my plate of food is placed in front of me, Marcey speaks to me.
"Whatever you want, little loves," I chew on some french fries taking another drink of whiskey.
"You girls should take your nap now, okay? I'll call you before you go to sleep, little love."
"I love you, Daddy!" they both say at the same time, and more giggles bounce in my head. I'll never get tired of hearing their laughs and voices—they're so excited to go talk to me or see me.
Makes me feel needed. They give me a reason to live. "Oh, and gifts, Daddy?"
"You want me to bring you gifts?" I answer back to Marcey's question, and she hums.
"Dolly, please." With a laugh, I nodded.
"Alright, petal, I'll bring you girls gifts. Bye, I love you!"
"Bye, Daddy," and from their end, they throw me kisses, and then the phone hangs up, placing mine down, and I continue to eat my food.
I would need to have enough energy in my body to do this tonight. After my quick lunch, I met Zayn and our security team to go to the warehouse.
The drive seemed to go on forever. Long and bumpy because we were traveling on dirt instead of main roads, with dust flying everywhere and covering the once-cleaned black van,
I check outside the glass once I've arrived at the warehouse. There was nothing close by, but I knew they were hidden behind trees. Security guarding the warehouse all around.
Once I reached the warehouse I put my gun's silencer on, I walked away from Zayn, when he passed me two empty duffel bags. And from here, one by one, we started killing the guards outside—watching them collapse to the ground while I called Niall to help me work on my technical issues.
Immediately Niall answered when I transferred the flash drive into the keypad—Zayn and I took the opportunity to walk around the warehouse. I went to the left and Zayn to the right and one by one, I caught the guards by surprise, blood soon pooled around them.
A beep from inside the warehouse alerts me, and I rush over back to the front to see the doors opening. Next to me, Zayn was reloading his gun, not knowing what we were about to face—taking a step back we pressed our backs against the brick wall and I looked down at my phone.
" Harry?" Niall voice rang in my head. " Doors and cameras are inactivated, there are guards to your left and right of the building and after that, from what I saw there's no more."
I hummed and looked over at Zayn, mouthing about the guards and hanging up my phone. When the guards yelled, I used my gun and walked in first. I shot the guard next to me to my right, and Zayn moved to our left.
I looked down at his finger, which was pressed against the trigger of his gun. I dove down and pulled my trigger, sending a round straight through his stomach. I then stood up and resumed shooting him.
Although it was overkill, the idea that he wanted to kill me set off a ticking time bomb in my head. With bullets piercing his body repeatedly and his body twitching on the ground, I was taking out all my anger on this single man.
He was already dead, with pale skin, a limp body, open eyes gazing upward, and a stained once-white button-up shirt from blood oozing from his mouth and running down his neck.
I closed my eyes and muttered curses as I looked down at his hands and saw the gold band covering his ring finger. Zayn was standing a short distance away and staring at me in shock when I turned around and ran a hand over my face. He had blood splattered all around him.
I shook my head in the hopes that he would understand not to speak, but in an instant, someone grabbed my upper body, taking me by surprise. I noticed Zayn suffering as well when I turned to face him.
I punched him in the face with my elbow, making every effort to escape from him. As soon as I was in front of him, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and punched him in the face with all of my strength. His nose broke under me, and blood spurted out while he screamed in agony.
When he punched me in the ribs, I felt all the air leave my body. I stumbled back a little, but I quickly regained my balance and pushed forward again. I punched him in the face; his skin tore apart, and his face began to bleed.
The man suddenly fell to the ground, and as another bullet entered his skin and he yelled in pain with his mouth wide open, I took a step back and turned to face Zayn.
His shirt was ripped, showing off his tattoos. With the sweat building up from the heat in the building and the fighting, he ran a hand over his face, rubbing the blood.
I looked down at my phone at Niall's new message.
Niall sent it at 5:54 p.m.
"You have an extra five minutes."
Thank fucking God
I rush down the hall and look at all three doors.
"You take the second room; I'll take the first one, and we'll meet in the third one." Zayn's orders around—I nodded and pushed the door open, using my other full gun to shoot down the only guard in the room. He appeared completely out of the blue; I hadn't expected to see him. He collapsed to the ground with a bullet between his eyes.
I dashed over to where there were blocks of mixed-currency money from the United States and Trinidad and Tobago. I grabbed both of them, putting the American one in the duffel bag first. As I did so, it gradually started to feel heavier, and my head started to pound with a headache that was making me feel lightheaded.
I nearly fell over and grabbed the wall as the room started to spin. The nauseating stench of blood swiftly filled the room. I shook my head to get rid of the dizziness, shut the full duffel bags, and rushed outside—the third door was already open, and Zayn was already securing weapons.
These were going in a special box our workers had brought. securing anything that might harm us, such as bombs. I tried to rush while packing some guns into my waistbands, but with every step I took, I felt like I was going to pass out. Even though I was worn out and in pain, I couldn't pass out. Not now that we're working together and working alone.
"Zayn, let's go. Our time is almost up." He nods and takes one last gun. We ran out of the warehouse, stepping over dead bodies and soaking our shoes in the blood that was staining the white floors.
☆
Once we were done with the warehouse, we went back to our hotel, where I showered, cleaned my stitches, rested a bit, and got ready again for the shipment. I'm hoping it's not as horrible as the last one.
Arriving at the docks, I tucked my gun into the waistband of my pants and fixed my hair. My phone has been blowing up with text messages and missed calls from Juliet, and I didn't answer.
With my arms crossed over my chest, I looked over at Zayn and then at Justin. He was standing in the middle of the empty road, watching the ship try to park.
He has security all around him—I knew the only way to get through was to shoot them all and run to the plane that awaited us with our cocaine, weapons, and money.
My security and Zayn were all waiting for my call to start shooting, but I had to be smart about it. I had to do it when they least expected it. Right now, they were all guarded and well aware of their surroundings.
This shipment coming through had the only system in the world. A high-tech system that many wanted but not many can get. It can copy anyone's identification and make you look exactly like them with legal documents.
I needed it for a dangerous deal I was going to make in Spain in a week or so.
"Now." I grimaced and threw the cigarette to the ground before reaching into my jeans and grabbing one of the firearms. By lifting it and pointing towards the security guard who was standing closer to me, I caused his gun to fall and tumble to the ground, alerting everyone nearby. The man fell back and screamed in agony.
I didn't want to kill them. My goal was to obtain what I needed, not to kill. I've killed enough people today. Taking cover behind the van as they started shooting again, I pointed at another security guard to see the same thing happening. My eyes landed on Justin. He was trying to run away, case in hand, while many hurried into the ship.
" Fuck." I was too far away to shoot at Justin. I look over at Zayn, his muscles flexing each time he pulled down on the trigger, gunshots surrounding all of us.
Murmuring into my microphone, I told my workers, including the one working with snipers. "Aim for Justin."
I hear a reply right away, his deep, husky voice resonating in my ears and those of many others. "I have a target on him; the calls yours Mr. Styles."
"Harry, are you insane? You can't kill him." I pressed down on the button, allowing me to speak again while ignoring Zayn's statements and realizing that this would start another argument.
"Shoot him in his legs." In a few seconds, Justin tumbles on the ground, and at the same time, one of my many workers does. I looked around, and there was more than I thought.
Swallowing roughly, I pulled the trigger, killing one of his guards. Nobody was paying attention to Justin's cries for help as they frantically tried to defend themselves or shield him from additional bullets.
The ship starts to leave, but I couldn't care less. Only what Justin has will do: "Kill all of his guards." One by one, his guards slumped to the ground with blood pooling around their bodies as I muttered,
I nod once at Zayn as I turn to face him. "Watch my back." He returns the gaze and nods. Zayn murmured into the mic to kill the drivers of his vans, the ones that had the system, and with careful steps, I rush over to Justin, gunshots ringing in my ear as I try to shoot people who come near me. I almost dropped my gun as a bullet grazed my arm. I exhaled a deep breath and shot a palm to cover the wound, my wound burning and seeping blood.
I stood a few feet away from Justin, hiding behind Justin's car, as he made an effort to crawl toward the vehicle. His eyes landed on mine, and I cocked my head.
"Who are you?" He tilts his head, and I walk towards him, stepping around his body and grabbing the case. I open it and stare at the system inside.
The system was mostly black, with a few gold details around the camera of the device, and a screen with a few buttons I'll need to learn how to work.
As I raise my gun to his head, sirens in the distance draw my attention. I laughed, muttering, "Saved by the bell." A car screeched, and a van's door opened. "Or maybe not." His eyes flashed with panic, and I pulled the trigger, watching his brain explode. I rushed over to the open van, the driver not giving me a chance to close the door before it escaped.
"Seriously, was killing him necessarily."
"He saw my face." I shrug, "No witnesses allowed." Zayn doesn't say anything when I open the case and set it on my lap.
"So, how does it work?"
"Well, this section scans your face, and the system shifts it to someone who is you but not really, if that makes sense. It'll change simple things like your hair or eye colors, something that can be changed with a wig or colored contact lenses.
"The device behind the other van makes passports, documents, and identification cards; it creates a fake fingerprint that is only good for a day or two." I wrinkled my brows. "It'll put you into the governor's system in any country, with a birth year and date. It was like that person always existed, but they never did. It can also create fake death certificates and everything that comes with that."
Zayn nods and purses his lips. "We are going to share this system."
unfortunately
I exhaled and replied, "Yes. As long as you don't stab me in the back, it's both of ours; remember, I am protecting Juliet; don't do anything." At the sound of her name, his eyes snapped toward me.
"I wouldn't do anything that would hurt her," he says, and I furrow my eyebrows.
"The secret you have... wouldn't hurt her?" I ran my tongue over my lips.
Zayn gives me a blank stare, "You're in just as bad of a situation as I am."
"I am?" I ask.
"You think she wouldn't be upset that you knew all along? I chuckle, Because, as someone who knows who Juliet is, she would be pissed."
"Then we make sure she'll never find out." I shrug "Or if she does, what do I care? I'm only doing a job; everything between us is professional."
A/N
I wonder what the secret is...