My heart instantly clenched as Harry swayed in the booth as these two creeps tried to do God knows what to him. My protectiveness kicked up to max, and I slid into the seat without thinking. Fucking with scum was my hobby, even though scum was my middle name.
I wouldn’t exactly call Pip and Knuckles ‘friends’, but we’d drunk enough together that it was normal for us to hang out. They looked alarmed that I’d just shoved myself in, but there was no way I was leaving Harry alone with these two. His breathing was heavy, his eyes glazed, and his hands curled up against his stomach as if he were going to throw up any second.
“Harry doesn’t seem to be doing too well tonight,” I said.
Pip’s surprise was obvious as he leant back from the table, cup clasped in hand, his ass dropping onto the black leather cushion next to me. Going from the brown tinge through the clear plastic, it definitely wasn’t water they were feeding him. I was pretty sure they didn’t expect me to know him.
They shot each other a worried look. I had to get these fuckers away from Harry.
“Nah, he’s having a great time,” Knuckles said from the other side of the table, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders. “He just needs a break. He’ll be ready to party again soon enough.”
Their gazes hopped around like fucking rabbits on meth as they did everything they could to avoid my death glare. The simple fact that they were even touching Harry sent me into overdrive.
I had to wonder if it was my fault. I usually collected my supply from them at a quiet bar four streets down from my flat. And, really, thinking about it, they were so lazy there was no way they would tail me back to my place and find out Harry was my neighbour. Plus they were too dumb to consider creating a contingency plan if I ratted them out. They were both stoned most of the time, so they weren’t exactly a threat.
“Harry!?” I shouted across the table, competing with the music. Harry blinked heavily, giving me a goofy grin that I’d devour him for in any other situation.
It wasn’t good.
“How you doing, mate?” I called out to him again.
“Dom?” he slurred, his lips barely forming the words. “Is that you?” His voice was almost drowned out by the music.
“Are you okay?” I asked loudly, making sure Pip and Knuckles could hear me as well.
“Yeah, I feel great.” Harry's head bobbed forwards as he spoke, like he was fighting sleep.
“And these two?” I said, nodding at the idiots beside us.
“These are my new friends. This is, uuuuugh, Pup?”
Yeah, that was enough. There wasn’t a single fucking chance he was staying at the club. I wasn’t sure what they were plotting, but he was coming home with me.
“You two.” I glared at them. “You have two minutes to get your asses out of these seats before I beat you out of them.”
Knuckles actually grew a pair and snapped at me. “Alright, look, you know who this guy is, right?”
“He’s Harry fuckingFischer,” Pip said, pointing straight at him as if I needed a clue.
I gave both of them a once-over, waiting for them to explain why that had anything to do with Harry being stuck in a booth at a gay club with them at 11PM on a Tuesday night.
I’d spent years learning to school my expressions. One wrong move around Mum’s boyfriend usually earned me a smack, or something worse. So it was easy to pretend to be disinterested, despite the urge to yank their nuts up through their lungs until they choked on them.
“And?” I finally supplied. These guys had never been heads of the bloody brain department.
“And his family is a fucking goldmine.” Pip smirked, leaning closer to share their big secret. “Someone takes a wrong picture, or leaks information, and they swoop in to pay them off. I’ve heard some people get hundreds of thousands for the really bad stuff.”
“So we just need to get a few shots of him like this,” Knuckles said with a shrug. “That’s all.”
The music still pounded around us as white noise filled my ears.
Even though they were always in newspapers and magazines, I googled the Fischers when I met Harry just to check out the situation. And from their estimated fortune, they’d happily shell out. Though that was so far from the fucking point that I brushed the thought away immediately.
“And what’s Harry said about it?” I asked them.
There was an awkward pause. I was ready to flip the table over and pull Harry out of here. But I had to know how far they were prepared to go first.
Knuckles jerked a thumb in Harry’s direction. “Look at him. One of his friends gave him a pill, we just need to give them a cut. He just needs a few more drinks and then he won't have a choice, will he?” he said as his grin deepened. “All we gotta do is put him in a compromising position and get the right shot. What do you say? Earn a couple of thousand for half an hour’s work? We can just take him out back, do what we want with him and send him home in a taxi or whatever.”
