The Bosses Daughter (Parts 1 and 2)

Part 1- Chapter 9

LEO
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I spy the annoying little blonde target exactly where I knew I would find her, in the back of the bar on Drake's lap. I grab my beer and take a deep, calming breath before getting off my ass to slide into the booth across from the pair.

"Aye, Leo." Drake greets as he tilts his beer in my direction. I do the same. "Who's the girl?" I ask, not so much as casting a glance at the adolescent across from me.

"This-" He grabs her shoulders and gives them a slight squeeze," Is my girl, Carrie." Drake announces and I roll my eyes.

At twenty-five, Drake still finds poor unknowing girls to sink his filthy fangs into. Pathetic.

"I know you!" Carrie's drunk self giggles. "Harley talked about you!" She frowns. "But that was before she ranaway." Carrie whines and Drake shifts uncomfortably.

Thats right fucker, this is your que to leave.

"I'll be back, needa take a leak." He slides out of the seat and I turn my attention towards the very soul I'd rather kill then communicate with.

"Tell me what Harley said." I demand, not interested in starting a bullshit friendly conversation.

"I miss my bestie," Carrie cries as she lays her head down on the table, completely unaware of how many people have fucked on this very table after hours.

I turn towards the bar. "Luis, two rounds of Jack." Luis nods his head and in a matter of time, is setting four shots of Jack Daniel's down on the table. I take the first shot, proceeded with its twin before sliding one shot in front of Carrie, happily taking the fourth for myself.

She shoots it back and scowls. "Gross." Anothet eye roll. "Carrie focus, tell me about Harley."

At the mention of her friend, her eyes shoot up and her lips go into a straight line. "What is it to you, Kangaroo Jack?" Carrie hiccups.

I stare intently at the blonde, reminding myself of all the reasons I should not kill her before speaking.

" 'Carrie McPhee, just turned twenty on the seventh of August. Only child of Kyle and Reba McPhee. Dropped out of DaVinci University after only two weeks. No current employment, nor any previous employment. Formaly know to be bubbly and a 'chatterbox'.' "I resite and watch in amusement as Carrie looks as if she's been frozen in times.

" 'First arrested at thirteen for graffiti, Acquainted by young Miss Harley Martin, then age twelve.' Shall I go on?" I question and she shakes her head after a second.

Carrie bites her lip as she looks around the room, suddenly mute. "Could we please go-"

"No," I interrupt firmly. "When did you last talk with her?" I demand.

Carries eyes glance briefly behind me. "Three months ago."

"Don't fucking lie to me." I snarl.

"I'm not," She argues, trying hard to look angry but failing when her gaze lowers to the table.

"Leo, was it?" I nod my head slightly. "Look, I can tell you as much as possible, Leo. But there are things about Harley, things she's gone through, that I swore not to tell another soul for as long as I shall live."

My gut tightens, knowing deep down whatever Carrie wont tell me has to do with someone besides me causing Harley harm, a grand amount of harm she may never fully recover from.

Just the thought makes me want to hunt down each and every motherfucker who has ever hurt her, my Harley.

Carries breath hitches as she leans back into the chair. "What is it you need to know?"

"When is the last time you spoke with Harley?"

Carrie frowns and twiddle her fingers. "Last night." She whispers. "I," She clears her throat. "I called her last night. I didn't think she was going to answer but she did."

The blondes voice starts to crack. "Harley sounded-" She cuts herself off, shaking her head violently.

"She sounded like what, McPhee?"

Carrie nibbles her bottom lip, tears threatening to spill. "High." Carrie spoke so quietly, I almost didn't hear her. Almost.

Carries voice lowers more. "When Harley was fourteen, we were having a sleepover at my house. We were watching Con Air, her favorite movie, and I remember her being really fidgety towards the end of the movie, I didn't think anything of it.

"There was about twenty minutes left in the movie and I remember Harley jumped up from the couch really quick, saying she needed to go to the bathroom. I wasn't really paying attention because I was doing her math homework." Carrie laughs lightly.

"God, she sucks at math."

I watch intently as Carrie takes a deep breath once more. "The movie ended and Harley wasn't back so I went looking for her... I knocked on the bathroom door and before she could respond, I opened the door and saw my best friend holding an empty needle, frozen as a small trail of blood ran down from her arm."

I close my eyes. Fury ingulfs my entire being. "What does this have to do with last night?" I growl, memories of my own monsters threatening to emerge from their slumber.

"Harleys been clean since Christmas but with how she sounded. She's went through therapy and rehab, though her parents don't know about the rehab."

"Her parents don't know she's an addict?" I spit and Carrie's head shoots up, anger in her eyes.

"Fuck you, you prick!" Carrie slams her hand down on the table, causing a scene.

I close my eyes, count backwards from twenty eight by two, and remember my place. "How exactly did you contact her, she left her phone at her trailer when she ranaway."

"I'm done talking to you."

"No, you're not."

"Watch-" Carrie's smart, annoying mouth starts to say but is abruptly cut off as my hand makes contact with the side of her face.

"No. You. Aren't. Fucking tell me how you were able to talk to her before I put a fucking bullet in your fucking head."

I'm done playing games, princess.

I wear my hatred for the blond openly on my face as I repeat myself once more. "How exactly were you in contact wit Harley Martin?"

Silence.

I see the wheels turning in her head; the regret, the caution.

Finally, she speaks up. "Snapchat."

You've got to be fucking kidding me.