*WRITING AND EDITING*
Warning ⚠️ this book contains adult themes and violence. Read at your own risk.
~ Hardin Scott Fan-Fiction ~
Hardin Scott is the ruthless son of a well known London mobster. With his teeth bore and his guard up will he be able...
Message after message goes unread. Where the hell is she? She's not turned up to work and I've been pestering Bruce all damn day to let me call her from his cell, which he quickly gives up as I'm an annoying little shit.
I pound my fist into the wall with frustration, watching as the plaster crumbles from the brick pathetically. I'm the one that left- and for fucking booze! I'm as malicious as they come.
"Oi! Stop destroying everything!" Bruce warns and I'm too anxious to even reply to the son of a bitch.
How did I allow it to get this far? To get to this? I should have just left her alone. I should never have gotten myself involved with this woman.
As I pace around the dirty floor beneath my feet a strong hand is placed onto my shoulder which I immediately shake off, "Heard anything? Have you found her yet?" My eyes bury themselves into Ken's face. His wrinkles have etched deeper into his skin with age and his mouth droops down into a constant frown. His face is so punch-able I swear.
"Not yet, son-"
"Don't you dare fucking call me that! You lost out on that chance the second you left us." I whip towards him, my voice comes out as a strangled roar. My mind is racing with taunting thoughts and my hands ball into fists at my sides. I always known that this would happen, that she would disappear if I hurt her and I did.. now she is nowhere to be found.
I have said it before and I'll say it again, anything lost to these streets is lost forever.
My own words cartwheel through my head.. wait..
A sudden wave of realisation washes over me. She hasn't ran off, has she..
"Get in the fucking car and meet me at her apartment!" I sprint off into the distance.
"What? Hardin, what is happening?" My father replies back loudly but nervously.
"Just do it! Now!" I scream over my shoulder, watching as my men prepare for war.
What if she is hurt?
What if they.. touched her..?
I can't bare the thoughts coursing through my demented mind for much longer. I let out a scream, a scream so loud and so raw that it leaves my throat aching for some water. The sound echoes through the streets around me and earns some unwanted attention from some passing people but I don't give a shit. My feet burn as they pound down heavily onto the concrete, my pace quickening as I rush to Ivory's apartment.
Why on earth did I not look there first? I want to fucking punish myself. How can I have been so stupid, so oblivious?
I deserve this, don't I? Everything happens for a reason and I am the fucking reason that this has all happened to her. If only I was there..
My chest grows empty at the tormenting memories that flood my mind. I wasn't there.. just like Ken wasn't there that night.
"Fuck.." I let out a breathy whimper. The images get the best of me and tears leak from my eyes. I am just like him..
Soon enough I stumble to a stop at the front of Ivory's apartment block. I didn't even notice how fast I was actually running. I don't waste any time to try and catch my breath before I am lunging up the stairs like a rabid dog chasing after it's prey. I take the steps two at a time, her safety is more important to me than anything else.
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Ivory's POV
I lay tightly bound to a bed frame in the middle of nowhere. It smells of damp and the whole room is a colourless grey, the bricks are chipping away bit by bit and it seems the building is moments away from caving in.
My blue eyes look to the ceiling in an effort to stop my tears from streaming down the sides of my face. A quivering sigh leaves my mouth as I try to steady my breathing. As much as I want this to be over I am terrified that this may actually be the end of the line for me.
The weighty door creaks open with a sinister whine of the old hinges and I internally cringe at the sound.
"Are you ready to talk yet?" I squint emotionlessly up at the man hovering above me, the bright light bulb almost wipes out my vision. I remain silent.
"I swear to fucking god if you don't open your mouth soon I'm going to slit your fucking throat! You hear me, whore?" I tremble at his words. His tone is demanding, extremely intimidating and frightening.
"Milo, that's enough." A man calls from the doorway and I struggle to turn my head to face him, my cheeks are soaking.
"Please.. please I just want to go home.. Hardin and I don't even know one another that well.. please-" I sob, my wrists are itching and aching from the scratchy rope that is burning into them.
"Shh.. tell us what we need to know and you're free to go, Darling." I flinch as the man I now know as Harrison comes to stroke my hair, "I promise." He sincerely places a hand on his chest, covering his heart as he makes empty promises that I know he won't keep. He is somewhat 'nicer' than the rest of the bunch but I'm not stupid, I know what is going to happen to me- regardless of if I tell them anything I know that I'm going to die..
"I don't know anything." My harsh sobs soon calm and I suddenly begin to giggle. Is it from fear, nerves or because I'm actually amused at these clowns? Who knows. Milo and Harrison share a glance, confused- Harrison nods to Milo, giving him the 'all clear' and before I know it a knife is pushed to my windpipe. I struggle to keep up my fearless facade.
"What's so funny, huh? Because I will cut your throat open right here.. right fucking now." Milo spits and some of his saliva sprinkles onto my face. I just can't help but imagine Hardin having his head on a stick.
"You think you're so scary. That's cute. You won't do shit! You need me." Acting tough is harder than I thought.. I'm terrified.
"I can and I will make your life a living hell! You hear me?" I gulp, his steel blade pushes further down onto my throat. It isn't enough to actually cut me but it is enough to make me extremely uncomfortable.
"Listen.. 'Buddy'..." I choke, my voice strained, "I've seen the devil and you ain't got his smile." I weakly grin as Hardin's smile pops into my head. He really is the devil in disguise..
His face turns a breathless shade of red with nothing but anger at the realisation of who it is that I am referring too. He rips himself away from me, launching his knife at the wall before he violently and rather pathetically attempts to also punch the wall.
His dirty fingers come to grab a hold of my face tightly, "Hardin fucking Scott is nothing but a low-life, robbing, scheming rat! And I am going to gut him in front of you." Milo's face stretches into a menacing expression as he whispers his last couple of words directly into my ear. He wouldn't do that to Hardin.. would he?
Before I can battle with my inner thoughts I feel something terribly sharp jab into my arm. In a frenzy I jolt and look down. There is a syringe dangling from my flesh.
No. No this can't be happening. Not now, not like this!
A clear thick liquid is injected into my bloodstream and immediately I begin to feel drowsy.. everything goes black.
