Beyond The Fury

Chapter Four

(Song- Heathens by Twenty One Pilots)
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Hardin's POV

Ken gets rich from suffering, from death and from inhuman acts of depravity. No amount of money can cover that stench.

You see there is good, there is evil and then there is Ken Scott. When you look at him and when you speak with him you may believe that he is somewhat.. a charmer. But deep down he is a twisted old man that has a quench for blood. I believe I am damaged but Ken is long gone.. lost to the everlasting curse Satan has cast upon on him.

When we near the intersection of the bar Ken winks at a dark haired woman wearing white and I want to tell him to knock it off, he is going to get us into shit that I can't be bothered dealing with, but we're in earshot of some 'Happy boys'.

As we approach a darkened table two men arise to their feet and block our path. They demand to know who we are and I debate on laughing in their stupid fucking faces.

"Names?" One is wearing black sunglasses rimmed with white gold. I contemplate on snatching them off of his face but instead I just snort. Who the fuck wears sunglasses indoors anyways?

"Are you serious?" I challenge and the larger man of the two steps towards me. His breath is heavy as it blows onto my face and that alone is enough to get my adrenaline all fired up.

I am in no fucking mood to entertain this 'Mike Tyson wanna-be'.

"We own this bar, dip-shit. Now fucking move." I feel a shit eating grin appear on my face as the words leave my mouth however I'm not satisfied with there effect so I shove against his chest instead and watch as he tumbles back and near enough falls into the table behind him. I want him to charge at me. I need him too.

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen!" A middle aged man pushes through the tables and stands between the 'body guard' and myself. With just looking at him I already know that this is the man Ken and I have came to meet. His beard has ripples of grey peeking through the dark brown hair and his pale grey suit has been lazily steamed and  pressed. His accent is foreign.. Russian? Maybe..

"That's no way to behave when ladies are present, is it?" I look over to the counter at Ivory and it's only then that I take into account what this man is saying. Even though Ivory is paying no attention to me I still feel the need to shield her from violence. I couldn't give two shits about the other females that are looking at me like I am a piece of meat.

His slightly wrinkled hand firmly grips my shoulder and I notice the faded lettering that he has tattooed on his knuckles.

Love.

Pfft. Who is this guy trying to kid? It's ironic, actually. To have a word with so much positive meaning tattooed on a place that you would most likely use for violence.

"Hmm." I hum in agreement with the man that I still don't know the name of. He is quite short compared to me but I'm not surprised. The pretty shitty 'body guard' I pushed over earlier has only recently jumped up to his feet and is dusting himself off.

"Shall we, Dmitri?" Ken appears at my side, his arms spread wide as he gestures for us all to take a seat at the table. Dmitri... So that is his name.

"We shall." There is something about Dmitri that I don't trust. He seems sinister..

***
Ivory's POV

The clock ticks all too loudly and I feel myself spiralling into the sound as the minutes drag on.

Tick.. tock.. tick.. tok..

I stare at the rusted metallic hands on the small clock positioned on the cream wall as it strikes 11:00 p.m. I am so tired.. I can feel my eyes beginning to involuntarily close on there own.

I crave the warmth of my duvet covers and the softness of my pillow. The thought alone is enough to have me dozing off at the counter. Just before my legs actually tumble beneath me I feel a presence near by.

"Ivory.." Buddy's hand comes to rest of my shoulder and I weakly spring back to life. This is so embarrassing.. I need to gain some willpower. He is dressed in a white apron that is absolutely filthy and his jeans are stained with some sort of oil.

"Yes?" I bring my hand up and harshly knuckle at my tired eyes. He is looking at me worriedly and his mouth is curved up into a soft sympathetic smile.

"You should go home. People are beginning to leave anyways and I'm sure Bruce won't mind.. even if he does I will convince him to stop being such a grump." I swallow thickly and pull a stool towards me. I have to sit down before I collapse.

"No, no.. I'm fine, Buddy.. really I am. I was just up early this morning that's all." He raises his hands up in a surrender and sits down near by me.

"Whatever you say, kid. Just don't work yourself to the bone.. these people aren't the best to be around all of the time." His eyes drift off into the distance and I follow his stare. He is looking at Hardin and Ken..

"Yeah.. I know. But what else can I do? I really need the money." I allow my shoulders to slump and I push my now tangled hair back and away from my face.

"Just be careful. A lot of things happen behind these doors.. if someone falls then you will fall too.." His jaw tenses and I force my eyes away from him. I am too tired to analyse his words right now.. I feel as though my head is about to explode.

"Well.." I smack my hand down onto the flat surface in front me and cringe at the sting that pulses through my hand, "I think I'm gonna head home soon.." I awkwardly gather myself together and say a quick goodbye to Buddy before I sleepily stumble towards the locker room. The bar is fairly short staffed so besides my locker all the others are empty.

"Leaving so soon?" I slam the thin metal door closed and dart to look behind me, alarmed. The man standing in front of me is unfamiliar. His hollow blue eyes are freakishly large and his teeth are yellow and rotten. His light, stone grey suit hangs messily off of his thin frame and his hair reminds me of a skunk. A realistic black with little pieces of grey peering out.

"Do I know you?" I clutch my small backpack close to my chest and take a few unnoticeable steps away from the man to keep some distance between us.

"No.. but you know Hardin, don't you? You know.. the crabby one with all the tats? Ken's boy-" He trails off but I interrupt his thoughts.

"Yes. Yes.. I know him. Why?" What does this man want? And why did he follow me in here?

"You should be careful. The boy has a temper and you probably don't want to get caught up in the mix of drugs and booze." He says casually like his words mean absolutely nothing and I feel my chest whizz with concern. Drugs? Does Hardin take drugs?

"Drugs? What do you mean..?" My grip around my bag loosens and I find myself extremely curious about what this man knows about Hardin.

Hardin remains a mystery on the most part to me and I'll do anything to find out more about him.. even if that means I have to stand here and talk to a creepy stranger.

"Well.. yes. Hardin and his father are drug dealers. What do you think they were doing out there?" His voice cracks into a deep chuckle that eerily fills the empty space between us. We're alone in this room..

Hardin sells drugs. Does he take them too? He is ruining lives.. he is ruining his life!

"Why are you telling me this?" My mind is scattered and I need to keep my composure. Although I am seriously tired I am taking in everything he is saying a little too well.

"To keep you safe. He is a bad man, Ivory.." He knows my name. I look down at my t-shirt and search for a name tag of some sort that may have given my identity away.

I'm not wearing one..

When I look up again he is gone. Why does everyone seem to leave before I can have any of my questions answered? This is frustrating. Hardin deals drugs.. what else does he do? Can I trust him?

What if Hardin is really dangerous..?