Heroin {harry styles}

24

a/n
hi readers, sorry my updates have been slow. been going through a lil rough patch but I PROMISE this book will be finished. we're just getting started. also we've passed 12k reads thats absolutely insane so please keep showing the story love with votes and comments it really keeps me motivated❤️

I look at myself in the mirror, waiting for someone to tell me this is all a practical joke or something. The lacy bra top and poor excuse for shorts that Niall gave me are extremely uncomfortable. If my mom would see me like this, she'd be rolling in her grave.

I jump at a sudden pounding on the bathroom door.

"Layla, hurry the fuck up!" Harry shouts. He's finally home. This is the moment I've been dreading. Can't I just go back to decorating with Niall?

I take a long, deep breath before stumbling out of the bathroom. Once again, Harry has given me heels that I don't have any idea how to walk properly in.

Harry's standing across the hall giving me an odd look as I begin to try to walk towards the stairs.

But I don't get too far, because just as I'm about to take the first step down, Harry picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I shout, trying to swat at his back to make him let me down.

Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, he drops me not so gently.

"Sorry babe," he begins harshly. "Didn't have twenty minutes to wait for you to figure out how to get down the stairs. Now let's go before you make me any later."

Before I make him later? He could've just gone without me! I roll my eyes as I walk behind him out to the car.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" He demands smugly.

"What? How did you even know?" I ask, trying to catch up with him and finally starting to be able to walk normally.

"I didn't. But now I do," he turns around and smirks, but his arrogant demeanor quickly turns cold. "Watch the attitude, I mean it."

"I wouldn't have an attitude if I had actual clothes on," I say under my breath.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Harry growls, stopping in his tracks and taking a hold of my arm.

"Nothing," I try to say confidently but my voice wavers a little bit.

He roughly pulls me tightly up against him and looks down into my eyes because of the height difference. I let out a small squeal at the impact, something about being this close to Harry gives me the chills.

"Layla I told you to watch the fucking attitude. Whatever it is that you're choosing to act like a brat about right now, get it out of your head this instant." He's practically yelling even though my face is only inches away from his. "Or there will be consequences, and that's a fucking promise."

I nod frantically, wishing I had just kept my mouth shut.

Harry pushes me off of him and let's go of my wrist. "Good. Now get in the car."

I do as he says, on the brink of tears.

Harry gets in the car a minute later and pulls out a cigarette as he starts driving at his usual excessively fast speed.

Driving is one of the things that really reminds me how far away from home I am, since they drive on the other side here in England.

Before I even realize it, a single tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away with a small sniffle.

"Are you honestly fucking crying right now?" Harry asks, laughing sadistically.

I ignore him, not really knowing how to answer that.

"I don't understand it. You want to go from being all high and mighty miss attitude one minute, and the next you're fucking crying. I'm not tolerating that shit. Wipe your tears away, I don't want to see them anymore." Harry instructs, pausing somewhere in the middle to take a drag of his cigarette, no emotion present in his tone.

Him yelling at me only makes me want to cry harder, but I do everything in my power to fight it.

I know Niall said Harry would never hit me or anything, but can I really believe that? I mean, he just gets so angry and scary. I have no other reason to believe he wouldn't try it if he got mad enough.

Before long, we're pulling up to a strange looking building with neon lights out front.

Harry gets out of the car, so I do the same. There's a slight breeze, and I shiver a little bit, wrapping my arms around myself, due to the fact that I'm walking around half naked and it's the beginning of December.

As we approach the entrance, Harry stops and tugs me aside.

"First of all, move your arms away, you can't be acting all shy trying to cover up in a place like this."

I do as he says uncomfortably. I really don't want Harry, or anyone  who may be in that building, seeing this much of me. Even Sophie never dressed this skimpily at parties.

"Now, when we get in there, you have to do as I say."

What else is new? I think to myself.

"I mean it, Layla," he must sense my attitude coming back. "You need to keep it the fuck together in there. Those people are dangerous and you need to play the part, acting like you belong. Rule number one, hold onto me at all times. I swear to fuck if you let go of my arm you will regret it."

I nod at him. What are we doing here? Why would he bring me somewhere that's supposedly so dangerous?

"Rule number two, don't talk to anyone. Not a single fucking soul. The moment we step through that door, your mouth stays shut."

Something about the way Harry says all of this makes me feel forced to listen. The man is just so damn intimidating.

"Rule number three, play the fucking part. I have some business to take care of and you're here to act as my arm candy for the night. The man we're doing business with has a weak spot for pretty young girls like you. I hate to break it to you, but you have to act like you like me while we're in there. And it wouldn't hurt to be a little seductive to make my client happy. Try pulling those shorts up a little further or something."

He's honestly involving me in his gang business? I don't know much about what he does at work or his gang, but I know for sure I don't want any part of it.

Before I can ask any questions, Harry pulls me inside the club. There are topless girls in lingerie dancing all around on poles, smoke in the air, drinks flowing, and people dancing way, way too close to each other. This is definitely not my scene, and much to my surprise, my outfit covers more than most girls here.

I tighten my grip on Harry's arm instinctively, walking as close to him as possible which means practically leaning on him as he guides me through the dense crowds.

Near the back of the club, I see a familiar face in a booth. Liam's there talking to someone, but I can't see the other person.

All of a sudden, Liam looks over at Harry and I, shooting him a look and getting up from the booth. He walks past us, whispering something to Harry, who looks angry about whatever he said. But the angry look doesn't last, and he quickly returns to his cool, collected self.

Harry leads me into the booth with him, making me sit on the inside before he slides in next to me.

"Styles, you're late."