Forget Me Not

A Fair Warning

warnings: smut, descriptions of violence and angst

***

"Who? Who the fuck did he name?" Tom whispered, fingers turning white as he gripped the door.

"He didn't name anyone, claimed to not have names. But he was talking to a girl. I think I know who it was."

"Give me five minutes. I'll be down to deal with it," Tom muttered, shutting the door on Harrison's face.

"I should probably go..." You sat up, shrugging off the sheets.

"No! I mean, if you want to, I won't stop you." Tom began to button his shirt, padding over to the bed. "I'll take care of business, it won't be long. If you want to stay."

His voice was higher pitched than what you're used to hearing. His usual slower paced speech is quick and fumbled.

"I guess I could doze off here. It's very comfortable," you noted, lying back on the bed with a sigh.

"That's what I like to hear."

You hummed happily while Tom got dressed and attempted to look presentable. You certainly didn't miss him sliding his gun holster from his bedside table.

"Have something to drink if you want. Promise it's better than 4 pound rosé." Tom bent down, lingering for a moment, his lips ghosting over yours before he kissed you. You leaned into his touch, afraid of what he might find out when he left you. Eager to keep him to yourself for just a moment longer. To savor this while it lasted.

"Promise not to get yourself hurt again? I didn't bring my first aid kit." Your voice was light and teasing but you both knew you were serious.

Tom laughed, shaking his head. "If you'll learn anything about me, it's that I'm a man of my word. I won't make a promise I can't keep."

Without another word between you, Tom left, the door slamming behind him made you shudder.

How long would he be down there? What would he find out?

You knew the one person you could talk to right now, even if it was with the utmost reluctance.

You grabbed your purse, turning your phone on and dialing the only person you could at a time like this.

"Dad?" You whispered into your phone, one eye on the door as you got dressed.

"Y/N? Sweet pea? It's 2am, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Your dad asked, you could hear him shuffling and getting out of bed.

"I'm fine, dad. Promise, I'm perfectly fine. But I have to ask you something."

"It couldn't wait until morning?"

You could tell he was confused, a heavy sigh into your receiver as he got back into bed.

"No. Daniel Walsh, what do you know about him?"

Your dad laughed. "A low rate guy trying to build his own mob in Liverpool. Window shopped around for supplies to build. Went to Niamh first and when she told him to take a hike he found the Holland's. Been buying off them steadily for a few months now. Why?"

"Because I flipped him. Earlier tonight. He was going to get seven kilos from you but when he went to shred his contract with the Holland's they..."

"Sons of bitches," your dad cursed, "that was a good sale too. Was the money wired before they got to him?"

"I don't know. I haven't been able to check the account. But I don't know how he got the store's number instead of the private line."

"I'll unlist and disable the number now. I don't know how he got a hold of your line. It's not shared with anyone."