Nowhere to Run ✓

four | ❝you have no idea.❞

❝Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint.❞

☀︎︎

HARRY RAN A HAND through his tousled hair. "Mark! You know that this blueprint isn't going to work at all, don't you? This is full of red-lined shit. Fuck," he said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

This would never work. There were too many guarded exits. Security at the main entrance would be top-notch. There was no chance of sneaking inside- unless-

"Why can't you shut up?" Mark's heavily accented British voice floated in from the adjacent room. Soon enough, the owner of the voice glided into the front room, blueprints, scales, markers, pencils, and erasers in hand. He placed them on top of the counter, nearly knocking over the chocolate cone stand.

This was their ice cream and coffee shop, Making Heaven for You, a front for all their mostly illegal activities. It was small and cozy, dotted with armchairs and bar stools. Little tables were accompanying the armchairs, which were decorated with fresh flowers and small ornate vases.

The walls had huge paintings, mostly from modern artists, with slashing lines and bright pops of colour splattered across the canvas. Long, thin lights hung from the ceiling which gave out dimmed light in the evening. The counter had numerous glass cases containing ice cream toppings, ranging from chocolate chips to bright red cherries.

"Yeah, well, if I shut up, you would end up making a mess out of things. Mark, this isn't about us anymore, alright? Let's get started. Seriously," Harry said as he slid the new blueprint towards himself.

Picking up a pencil, Harry started lining the exits and circling the weak points in red. "Now these people are twisted. The five gates in the back have electric wires surrounding the perimeter. There are five guards at each of these gates with arms. There's no way we'll be able to get through that level of security unless we want to end up burnt and holed in all the wrong places.

The front, on the other hand, is a bit more relaxed. There are three gates solely meant for the checking and entry of guests. Two armed guards at each of these entrances. Six men and tons of guests. They wouldn't dare to shoot even if we did get caught," Harry smirked, connecting the three entrances to the main road on the blueprint.

"Maybe they figured that most thieves would try to hijack the back doors," Mark said as he munched on an ice cream sandwich.

Harry, who was standing next to him and measuring the distance of each entrance from their van, now looked up as a devilish grin spread across his cheeky face. "Good thing we are not most thieves."

Mark nodded solemnly. "Listen. This cannot be a one-man job. With me on surveillance duty in the van, you cannot do the groundwork alone. We'll need to recruit more people. I'm sure 'Top' Tony can help out with this." He bent over Harry's shoulder to check his calculations. "That's a 23.3 meter distance. Not 22.3."

"Alright, I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow. And shut up, I was just about to erase it," Harry twisted his shoulder and elbowed Mark off of him.

Mark put up his arms in a way of surrender, his face stuffed with cream and his black hair spotted with biscuit crumbs, "Sure, you were."

"Whatever," Harry said, while erasing the '2' he'd written, "do you even plan on opening the shop? We need to stay as lowkey as possible."

"What's gotten into you today?" Mark shook his head as he moved to pull up the blinds. "Bad night?"

"You have no idea. She kept talking about her cats. Do I look like I care?" Harry laughed, a tinge of annoyance accompanying it.

"You could've tried for a better morning, you know?" Mark now stalked over to the door and unlocked it. "There, all ready for business."

"I did have a better morning," Harry shrugged nonchalantly but Mark was aware of the small smile playing on his lips. He was about to comment when the bell chimed and a customer walked in, all hasty.

"Fix up a cappuccino chocolate for me, will you?" she said while drumming her fingers. Harry immediately pushed all the papers up in his arms, out of the woman's sight.

Her gaze landed on him anyway and Harry could see his looks wash over her. She took in his freckles, his tattooed muscles, his rich golden eyes without a moment's hesitation.

"Accounts?" she asked, her eyes all innocent, in an attempt to strike up a conversation.

"You bet," Harry winked and walked inside, leaving her to stare after him.

He knew the effect he had on women. They thought he was a bad boy, needing to be saved. But he knew the only saving anyone needed was them from him. He'd had enough of that life back in high school. 

He had responsibilities now, and a dangerous role to fulfil.

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