Limbo [h.s]

21

CHAPTER 21 HARRY'S POV

"Are you going to be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah I'll be fine, I've got Jack with me"

"Ok I'll see you later, message me if there's any issues"

"There won't be. Bye H"

"See ya later you dickhead"

Luka sighs and looks over to Jack's body lying on the bed next to him "I wish I was getting head, haven't had that in a while"

Jack slaps him on the arm, face blushing "Shut up I'm still sore"

"I know love, I know" gently caressing his cheek with his fingertips "I was talking to curly over there, if I remember correctly he was really good at it last time"

"ALRIGHTY I'm out of here" I speed walk to the front door before Jack decides to get protective and jealous over the fact that Luka and I used to mess around when we were bored together.

"THAT'S IT YOU'RE NOT –"I slam the front door closed to block out Jacks last words.

***

Driving to my father's place was the most inconvenient thing in the world. It was a late Friday afternoon which meant that the traffic was fucking shit due to all the people on the road trying to get home from work at this hour.

Apparently my father has a job that needs to be done tonight. All his other men that usually do his errand work are busy with other his shit that he wants done as well, me to do it.

Its hard to think that I only discovered the extent of my father's business just over two years ago. I'm still no where fucking near destroying it, but at least I'm getting him to trust me now.

I'm starting to think this task of taking him down is not going to be a year task and more like a life time. By the time I actually succeed in killing his pathetic ass he will be on his death bed anyway. That doesn't mean I won't hesitate to kill him if he gets too old to defend himself (if he lives that long), that would just make my life easier.

Luka and I haven't come up with an elaborate plan to ruin his company as of yet, but we have come up with the idea of how we are going to kill him. I've even fantasied over it a couple of times before bed, so I could coax myself into dreaming about the descriptive way his body starts to disintegrate when he's tied up to the chair in a shipping container, while he sits in the pitch black starving for days slowly draining his blood of the GHB also known as liquid ecstasy that I would put in his Jack Daniels to be able to get him there.