Heroin {harry styles}

25

a/n
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Across the table from us is a sleazy looking man, probably in his late forties. He looks completely wrecked, with his facial hair unevenly grown out and a stained wife-beater shirt.

"You know how it is," Harry smirks and gestures towards me. "The lady takes forever to get ready."

I fight every urge to roll my eyes or say something I'll regret.

The man across the table gives me a creepy smile. He looks like he's ready to eat me alive. I shoot back a tight-lipped half smile after everything Harry told me about what's happening tonight.

"Oh believe me, I do know how it is," he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. "But unfortunately I don't have time for lateness. There are plenty of dealers in this town, Styles."

Harry's jaw clenches, and I know he's annoyed.

"Listen Max, I know you know I'm the best fucking dealer in the country, probably the world. You won't go to anyone else."

Luckily, between the loud music and how crowded this place is, nobody else can hear or really even notice Harry's anger.

"I might, unless you give me a reason not to," Max smirks across the table.

"I'll throw in an extra pound," Harry offers.

Max shakes his head and looks right at me with his red-rimmed eyes. "Not good enough. I want the girl."

Would Harry really give me to him over a stupid deal?

"Unfortunately, she's not up for sale. I'll throw in five pounds, and that's my final offer."

I let out the breath I've been holding at that. Good to know he wouldn't just hand me off to some creepy old man.

Max looks irritated, and he seems to be mulling over the decision, until finally he nods and hands over a massive wad of cash.

Harry smiles victoriously and nods at Max, "My guys are just out the back door. Pleasure doing business with you."

Max quickly gets up to leave and Harry pulls out his phone to call someone.

"Liam, give him an extra four pounds," he demands then hangs up.

"Didn't you tell that guy five?" I finally speak and quietly ask Harry.

"Yep," he smirks and tucks the cash into his waistband.

When he does that, I can see a glimmer of metal, and my eyes immediately widen. That's definitely a gun.

"Relax babe, it's only for emergencies."

Harry pulls out a cigarette and starts smoking like he didn't just make some sort of shady drug deal and flash his gun at me. I gotta get out of here.

"I need to use the restroom," I blurt out.

Much to my surprise, Harry only rolls his eyes before letting me out of the booth. I didn't think he'd let me go more than a few inches away from him, especially after his crazy rules earlier.

But before I can go, he takes a hold of my arm, forcing me to look back at him.

"I have men all over this place. If you run, they'll shoot you. Be back here in five minutes."

I nod and quickly hurry away from him. Surprisingly, I wasn't even thinking about running. I just need a minute to myself.

I wander around the club trying to find the bathroom, weaving through way too many sweaty bodies until I find a neon sign on the wall pointing me to where they are. On my way, I pass a group of people hanging out on couches, white powder spilled everywhere, including all over their faces. Quickly looking away, I duck inside the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

Inside, I stand at the sink and look at myself in the mirror. I forgot that I was wearing this horrible outfit until now.

I realize I'm not alone when a girl stumbles out of a bathroom stall. Her platinum blonde hair is all over the place, makeup smudged, and I notice she's holding something.

Taking a closer look, I realize she's holding a syringe in her arm. She almost trips on her way to the sink and I can easily tell she's already wasted.

"The light in there sucks," she smiles at me, setting her arm on the countertop right next to me and emptying the contents of the syringe into her skin before carelessly tossing it in the trash can.

For the first time in a few days, I start to think about the time Harry did that to me. I was freaking out too much to see him do it, but seeing it for the first time now is sort of fascinating.

"You look like you could use a pick-me-up," she tells me.

"I'm okay, thanks," I respond quietly. I don't want to do drugs.

But at the same time, I could use a pick-me-up.

"I'm Stella," she slurs a little bit, holding her hand out.

I shake it.

"Layla," I tell her my name.

"This is my little friend, heroin," she giggles, pulling out another syringe filled with a strange substance.

I smile weakly, not really sure what to do in this situation.

"Hey I gotta go. No pressure or anything, but you look like you need this more than I do," she sets the needle on the counter with a sympathetic smile and exits the bathroom, leaving me on my own.

Standing here staring at the drugs on the bathroom counter, brings all the memories from my indescribable high a few weeks ago flooding back to me.

I stare at the needle with my mind spinning in circles for who knows how long before a pounding on the bathroom door startles me.

"Layla! I told you five minutes. You have two seconds to get out here before I'm coming in!" I hear Harry shout from the opposite side of the door.

Without thinking, I quickly grab the syringe and stuff it inside of my bra top before turning on the water in the sink to make it look like I'm washing my hands.

The second I get my hands under the cold water, Harry bursts through the bathroom door and my heart is racing.

"Layla, let's go. This place is disgusting." Harry gestures to the door.

"Sorry, I just needed some peace and quiet," I dry my hands, avoiding his gaze, before walking past Harry to leave the bathroom. As soon as I reach the door, Harry drapes his arm around my waist and we walk out to his car together.