DIRTY BULLETS

chapter sixteen

GRAPHIC CONTENT - this'll be the last warning for this stuff as it'll be included throughout, so bare that in mind if you don't like reading violence xx

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"YOU'RE TEN SHORT."

"What?" The older man's eyes widened, as though in shock of this news, but he knew fine rightly he was short. He was just hoping Harry wouldn't have noticed or would let it slide. But that was foolish of him. Harry noticed everything and never turned a blind eye for business. Especially not for the slimy motherfucker sat cowering in front of him.

"You're ten grand short, Grady." Harry repeated, his eyes lifting from the less-than-agreed stack of money held in his hand. His hard gaze narrowed on the man he stood in front of, waiting for whatever pathetic excuse he was going to try and throw at him.

"Shit I didn't realise-"

"Yes, you fucking did." Harry cut him off, not in the mood to even slightly humour the man. Normally when dealing with clients he would find amusement in listening to the poor reasons they gave to justify why they tried to fuck him over, sometimes hearing them out completely, leading them to believe he was convinced, before he ordered one of his men to slit their throat. But today he was by himself.

It was supposed to be just a quick easy run to one of the less important clients he dealt with, so he figured he'd do it alone. But now it was turning bitter and Harry's hope to be in and out of this dingy strip club within fifteen minutes was dwindling.

"I can get you the rest, I swear." Grady began to blather, as he watched Harry stuff the stash of money he held into the black duffle bag where an incredibly wealthy amount more sat. "I just need more time. I can get-"

"That's a nice watch you have there." Harry interrupted again, and although his words were a compliment, his tone was anything but. Standing up straighter, his eyes were trained on the expensive gold watch glinting against the man's wrist. He had noticed it as soon as he walked into the club, it wasn't exactly hard to miss. Very flashy and not something Harry himself would choose to wear, but that wasn't important. What was important was that he hadn't seen it before today and as soon as he did, he guessed straightaway how this meeting would go. "New, I take it? Must've cost you quite a bit considering it's a Rolex."

He stared with a look of tedium as the older man gulped, obviously knowing he was fucked after what Harry said. There was no convincing him of anything but the truth, and Grady knew he already knew what it was so stayed quiet. Instead he just watched as Harry stepped away from the round table that the duffle bag of money sat on, before slowly tauntingly starting to step closer to where the man sat. His left hand dug into his back pocket, seeming to grab something from it before stopping so as the toes of his feet were but a half inch away from Grady's.

Lifting his hand up to his waist that held whatever had been in his pocket, Grady visibly gulped again when, with a swift flick of Harry's wrist, a pocketknife unfolded and revealed itself to the man.

"Say, where'd you get the money for a watch like that?" Harry then continued, his tone mocking because he knew the answer. "I mean, from what you told me when I arrived, business hasn't exactly been booming for you and yet you somehow managed to treat yourself to - well, how much did it cost?"

"T-ten thousand pounds." Grady stuttered out.

Letting out a humourless laugh at his response, Harry sneered. "Somehow you managed to treat yourself to a ten-thousand-pound watch."

He had to be fucking joking. It honestly amazed Harry of the stupidity this man held, not only to just pretty much confess to what he already guessed, but also that he even fucking did it in the first place.