Pain 2: Him (H.S)

Chapter 52

Warning: Murder/Death. (You're finally going to find out what the "storage" is and who Harry REALLY is and I'm excited af, I've been waiting turdy seven years to write this chapter so ignore the weird shift and mood in the story because it's gonna get real good. Oh, and this chapter is extra long because I want to get this all over with, you'll see why. I hope you enjoy it.)

Same shitty building. Same flashbacks. Same broken windows. Same gravel grounds. Same faces that shaped this business from when I was a kid. Same men who were with my dad when he was shot; same men who let it happen. Yet here I am working with them and paying them to keep this business intact and powerful just as my old man did. Sad that I've become him.

Picture a place completely deserted. No construction, no paths, no location point on a map; just land. Now picture that deserted land with a building in the center, expensive cars parked on the gravel surrounding the one story, two-hundred feet, long red bricked building. Now picture it sectioned in to fours; weapons, drugs, ammo, and money.

This is what Alee doesn't know about. This is who I am and all I've ever been and something I don't think I'll ever have the heart to tell her about. How would I? "Oh, by the way I'm a drug lord and a multi-billionaire who lives off the money his dad spent decades earning from selling drugs and weapons. Will you marry me?" This is how I get money, and this is how I bought the apartment. What that place is worth is only five dollars in my world but in yours, it's worth half a million.

My dad is laughing his ass off in his grave.

"Hey, boss." I walk in vast space and the smell of weed and fresh money lurks in the aroma, a smell I haven't inhaled in so long. Everyone's loading guns and counting cash as the others stack them and labels the shipping boxes. Did I mention I own all of them?

"Pierce, you alright?" He's the biggest pain in the ass but is one of the very few I trust with handling the company while I'm away.

"Yeah, I'm alright man. You?" He shakes my hand holding a cigarette in the other and it's like my body is pulling towards the killer.

"Give me one." I itch for a cigarette. "I'm kind of in a rush so I need everything." He hands me a stick and lighter and I follow him to where my things are. I really hope God isn't watching me right now because if he is, he's making a deal with giving me to the Devil.

I light the cigarette and man does it taste good. I've missed the taste of nicotine on my tongue and tar grilling my lungs; absolutely addicting.

A few men greet me here and there, some looking away in intimidation while others acknowledge me, but continue to work. We turn into a long hall where the offices are and to the left is mine. I don't remember the last time I was here, maybe three months ago? Four? "I kept it in your office, that's okay right?"

"Yeah." I walk in and already feel in control again. I feed off the luxury and fear of others towards me. I guess my dad got me used to that. "Ten milligrams, right?" Two needles and one dose of Naloxone are set on my black desk beside a pair of white gloves.

"Where's the safety syringe?" I take another spiff of my cigarette and twirl it on the desk to burn it out, and pick up the needle to inspect. I'm making sure each one is filled with five milligrams of Heroin because if Niall's going to go, it might as well be from an overdose. It's bound to happen anyway, I'm just giving him a jump start.

"Uh," quickly, he begins to pat his pockets down and I'm a bit annoyed with how careless he is with these needles. You always need a safety syringe when handling dangerous shit like this, especially when it's an instant killer. "Got it, got it!" He pulls two out from his back pocket and slips the plastic over the needle protecting it from any contact and smiles.