Let's Roll- Larry Stylinson

Chapter IV

Inside the juice joint, Louis feels a lot like an outsider in relation to those around him. Everyone inside has something about them, a finesse that had Louis associating them with riches. The young girls from before have dresses with sequins and glitter, all billowing around their long lean legs as they danced to music Louis has never heard before. Men smoke cigars, tobacco smoke invading his lungs. An air of smoke filled his vision, everything a bit hazy as he walked behind Harry who was making his way to the bar.

A few people stared at Harry as he passed, grunting and nodding as if in greeting. Harry made no motion to greet them back. The bartender jogs over to Harry, smile falling slightly at the man.

"What can I get for you?"

"Two beers." The bartender goes for two glasses, filling them to the brim with brown liquid. Foam rose to the top, the cream contrast to the alcohol. He slides it along the counter to them, Harry catching both at the same time. He passes a glass to Louis who doubtfully studies the stuff.

"Ain't alcohol illegal?" Harry narrows his eyes. He leans in real close to Louis face who shies away from the gaze.

"Not something you should say in this place, boy. This here place is my business and I don't need you messing up my work." He smirks as he stands to his full height, taking a long sip of the beer. Two seconds later, he's spitting it out, wiping his mouth of the indecent beverage. "This ain't my beer!" He shouts, the bartender shrinking at the tilt of his voice. "Who you buying from?"

"I don't know." He says fearfully, cloth in his hand waving around like a white flag. Mercy is not in the bartenders favor as Harry shouts at the man.

"Let me speak to Grimshaw!" The bartender races out of the room in search of this Grimshaw. Not a moment later, the man of the hour emerges, suit coat open with his tie loosened. Women are trailing after him with giggle demeanors and Louis doesn't have to think twice about what kind of women they are.

"Styles must you ruin all the fun." He teases, coming up from behind the bar to lay his arms on the counter. "What can I do for you today?" Harry places his own hands on the counter, his grip deathly as he stares the man down. The women sense the tension, retreating to the safety of the lounge.

"You could tell me why this ain't my beer in the dispenser." Grimshaw's cocky grin dissipates as he leans away from Harry.

"I don't know what you mean, Styles." Harry pushes himself forward. His whole body somehow overpowers the man behind the counter. Grimshaw tries to stand his own ground, failing miserably when Harry snaps at him.

"Tell me now, Grimshaw! Who you buying from?" He slams a fist on the bar, some people turning their way. Their gazes don't linger though, scared of the outcome if they keep watching. Seems Grimshaw is scared too, if the way his hands go up defensively is any sign.

"Your beer is pricey. Times aren't too great. I needed to cut some corners." He confesses. Harry shakes his head at the man in disappointment. Cutting corners is a lame excuse and he knows. He turns his head to the men sitting at the bar.

"How much you paying?" The men don't immediately answer and Harry grits his teeth. "How much you paying?!" The men push his glass away in fear of their own lives.

"Five cents a glass." Harry goes back to Nick, pointing a finger in his face.

"You can sell ours for the same price." His eyes go the bartender. "Drain it." The bartender jumps into action, every lever going down to drain the hooch. Grimshaw curses as he starts to undo the bartender's work.

"My money!"

"It ain't jack!" Harry calls, breaking the glass he was handed by dropping it on the floor. Grimshaw is grief stricken. The scowl on his face is directed at Harry, but Harry only smiles as he supports his upper body on the counter. "I'll have my men drop a new batch later tonight."

"Beat it, Styles. I never want to see you again!" The demand doesn't even faze him.

"Eight on the dot." Harry removes the glass from Louis' hand and drops it alongside his. People have seized to speak as they witness the commotion Harry has caused. He tilts his hat to the crowd, a dismissal as he heads for the door. Once outside, Louis stares at the man before him, not entirely sure what his deal is. The whole bar fiasco has Louis wanting to ask questions a mile a minute, yet he settles for one.

"What was all that about?" He asks, determined to get some answers from Harry.

"It's all about the trade. I give him what he needs and he pays me the dough."

"He clearly had someone else to buy from." Harry stops in his tracks, pointing an accusing finger at Louis.

"Not anymore. It's why I do these visits. It's how I play the game." He smirks and begins to walk away, feet carrying him in the direction they came. "Let's get to looking. We have the rest of the day to find you a job."