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Hello, all! Long time no see, but I am here with an update!

This chapter has mentions of some medical things, and I could be wrong on some of it, but I did my best, and I am willing to rewrite if someone finds any flaws.

This is truly where the story begins to pick up, but it will still move at a slower pace for a couple more chapters. Just wait, guys, because it will be a roller coaster.

Love you all and enjoy!

Chapter 18:

A few days passed with the same routine. I would go to work with Harry at the flower shop, deal with multiple annoying customers, go to pick up some food from Joan's after work, and then meet with Harry at my house to train some more. It felt so natural after a while, and that really irritated me. I didn't want to get into any kind of routine, which was why I told Harry that I couldn't go in to work today.

The reason I couldn't was never brought up, just like the kiss he left on my cheek was never mentioned either. He never brought it up after the fact, so I just let it be. Besides, it was the last thing I wanted to talk about.

I still didn't understand why my cheeks felt flush with heat after the kiss. It was a small, innocent peck that meant nothing. I came to the conclusion that I reacted that way only because of the conversation we had beforehand.

It felt an awful lot like Harry was asking me out, which was something I couldn't have. Still, we clarified that going to the stupid pie-off would be just a friendly thing. Even that made me sick to my stomach.

After calling Liam, he sent me over a file about Harry and everyone he's ever been associated with. I sat down on the couch and began to read through it, something that was long overdue on my end, scrolling through all of the information I had received. Files upon files of private information.

Harry had been telling the truth about his parents. They died in a car crash when he was young, but the driver of the other car was never caught. In fact, the car that caused the crash that night was one that was reported stolen the day before. Whoever was in the car fled the scene without anyone noticing. The fact that it was nighttime didn't help any witnesses in identifying what the other driver looked like.

Harry also did live with his grandmother, who was a nurse practitioner. He said she taught him to stitch, and that checked out. It made me wonder what other skills she taught him. Most of the medic guys in the gang were trained to the best of their abilities, few of them having actual medical experience beforehand, so it was a shame Harry wasn't part of the gang. His experience would be valuable.

The flower shop was passed over to him when his parent's died-- it was already in his mum's will, but his grandmother took care of things until he was old enough to run it himself. Ever since he was old enough, he'd been making all of the decisions and working tirelessly to ensure that his mother's vision was secure. His ambition was surprising. He worked days and nights in the beginning, holidays as well, not even giving himself time off for Christmas. He never took out any bank loans, never had to owe money to anybody. He worked and worked and worked until the shop was stable.

He went to school with Zander. They were pictured together in yearbooks when Harry was younger. "Sixteen," That's what Zander said, "gorgeous then, gorgeous now."

Zander looked much different then. He was thinner than he is now, skin looking healthier and more tan in contrast to how pale he appeared when we met days ago. He was almost closed in on himself in the photo, as if he didn't yet realize that he could pretend to be cocky and confident to gain power. He looked like the version of himself that he tried to cover up, but I saw right through it all. He was nothing more than a terrified, idiotic child that was in way over his head in dealing with these gangs.

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