Beyond The Fury

Chapter One

(Song- R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys)
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Hardin's POV

The first rule of the streets that you should be well aware of is, take or be taken.

Kill or be killed.

In this life there are far too many people that sneakily look for any opportunity they can get to hurt you. To take from you. Everyone is a threat. A snake in the grass if you must.

This game we are playing is dangerous- risky, but what can I say..

It's family business.

For as long as I can remember it's always been this way. Gun fights, drugs, enemies and allies. Some more than the other. It never once phased me, though. We aren't a family to fuck with.. anyone that is deemed as a problem is dealt with quickly.

We try to keep it as humane as possible when we take someone out but when you're dealing with a nasty mother fucker it's amusing to watch them squirm and scream for a bit..

The police are paid monthly to keep off of our backs, the place is riddled with dirty fucking cops with coke addictions so we don't exactly have to keep our 'activities' on the downlow.

This city is like a plague- a disease that rots and poisons everything and anything it gets it's hands on. Nothing good ever lasts. Not here.

Anything lost to the brutal streets of London is lost forever.

***
Ivory's POV

I shouldn't be here. In this smoke filled bar where my lungs ache from the toxic fumes, I can feel them blackening by the second. Fading from a healthy pink to a damaged brown.

Rent is extremely tight this month and the landlord doesn't give me any extensions. So naturally I took up a couple of shifts at the closest bar that was hiring. My boss is overly intimidating which makes me weary of ever quitting randomly out of the blue. There is something odd about the whole scene.. I never pictured myself being here for longer than I needed too be but here I am. Stood behind the old polished oak counter, a lazy smile plastered on my face as I at least try to look like I want to be here. I stare over dreamily at the dusty piano in the corner of the room. It's positioned on a small stage and is clearly being neglected.

I am supervised every second of every day, like there is an invisible target on my back. I have seen a lot of strange people walk up in here and I have been told to treat them with the upmost respect, regardless of how they treat me. Every drink they order is on the house, even if it is the most expensive whisky on the menu.

I find it extremely suspicious, that such an intimidating man can turn soft and bunny-like whenever certain men walk into the bar. However I never let my curiosity scrape deeper than the surface.

Whatever it was, it is buried for a reason.

I perk up immediately as a dark haired man strides proudly through the doors of the bar, hints of silver and grey peek out from his brown locks. He is clad in a white dress shirt and a pair of black suit trousers. His black shoes shine beneath the warm light of the bar and his unbuttoned trench coat has sprinkles of white on it from the snow that is silently falling outside.

The entire bar falls silent at his presence and it's then that my palms begin to sweat slightly with the nerves that rake through my body.

"Ah! Ken! Nice to see ya, bud!" I turn my head and watch cautiously as Bruce, my boss, greets the strange man. A wide smile spread across his chubby face.

They formally shake hands, the man I now know as Ken has leather gloves snugged around his fingers.

"We have things to discuss, Bruce. A drink, please?" It's only then that he acknowledges my existence and I frantically nod my head.