DRAG - [h.s. au]

28*

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This your town?

Well, we run it now

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HARRY

"No, there's no way I'm letting you do that."

"What is with you and the word 'letting'? How many times have I told you that I don't need your permission, Harry?" Bentley snaps back at me.

We had been going back and forth for the past thirty minutes as to what the plan I had formulated to take down Woody and Buzz.

Oh, I had also dubbed Gregory and Quincy Woody and Buzz after that kids movie I remember my sister talking about once... I sat with her one day and watched it and all I got out of it was that there was a cowboy with a brain and an impulsive astronaut. Sounded similar to our next pair of victims.

Gregory was the brains behind their bar which was a front of their drug dealing. They were selling Luna's product at a bumped up price and keeping the extra to themselves. He was Woody, kind of smart but his execution of it all is... questionable. Quicy was dumb enough to start exposing their ordeal by accidentally forwarding an invoice of their own profit to Luna. She wasn't happy about it and wanted them dead. He was Buzz, impulsive and well, nothing without Woody. It turned out that that was her connection to the southside too.

She had started to branch into three out of the four quadrants of the city, and she wasn't slowing down. The only thing she was missing after Ben and I took care of the blundering southsiders was the northside, but so far, there were no names on the list that had any affiliation with the northside.

"Bentley, absolutely not. There's got to be another way to go about this. I don't give a fuck what you think about it. No." I retort. She had been fighting me on this for too long and I've been losing my fucking mind over it.

This was the first time we sat down alone together in about three days. The last time I saw her was at our race last night, which she won. I never made it back to our building that night though. Before then, I hadn't seen her since that night at her apartment... the night that we took shit to another level between the sheets.

It's safe to say the image of her trailing the blade down her body and nicking herself with it was enough to fuel my hard-on for the rest of my fucking life. When she cut me... when she left her devilish mark... every time I looked at her design on my hip my cock would twitch and I'd have to take a cold shower.

I had been taking a lot of cold showers recently too... some voluntarily and most recently, at the hands of Oscar. We had another race last night and I lost, so I knew the drill. Last night was worse though, because Luna wasn't just recording, she was calling in to watch.

She wasn't half as bad over the phone, but she was even more merciless.

LAST NIGHT, 3:15 AM

"Harry, I don't know what it's going to take for me to get this through your head. You win, you don't suffer." Luna grits, voice a little shaky over the phone as if she was coming down from an adrenaline rush.

"Fuck you, Luna. You're weak. Come drown me yourself." I taunt, sniffling and regretting it instantly when the saltwater infiltrates my respiratory system.

"Oscar, go. 44 seconds." She barks, and before I know it, my head is being pushed into the freezing water and held firmly in place.

43... 44... 45...