Captive Of Lies Book 2(Imprisoned in my Heart trilogy...Larry)

Chapter 12

Harry stood in the hallway of Frightening Kylie’s safe house feeling slightly awkward and very conspicuous, wearing one of the gayest and most baggy jumpers known to man, his hair sticking up everywhere and with obvious tearstains on his face – but most of all, he felt self-conscious of the blond boy who was cheerfully stood beside him, craning his neck excitedly to look at everything. Niall, rather than being horrified by Harry’s request, had been delighted at the chance to meet ‘real live gangsters’, so long as they were allies, and had quickly driven out to meet him and give moral support. Despite knowing that Liam would have been extremely disapproving of Harry’s decision to take matters into his own hands rather than allowing the police to deal with it, he would at least have looked a little more imposing; he had hard rings of muscle on his arms, could sprint for unknown – but probably ridiculous – distances, and just looked far more gangster-like than happy Niall, who was currently standing on tiptoes to stare at a man with a dragon tattoo curling around his bald head, mouth wide open with excitement. Oh, and inexplicably, Niall was wearing a shirt with a kitten on it. Harry felt tempted to face-palm right in front of everyone, but he kept his cool. Perhaps then he could persuade Frightening Kylie’s lot that Niall was just a master of infiltration and his innocence was all a very elaborate, and convincing, act.

The man with the tattooed head stepped forwards, curling his pierced lip in disdain as he looked them both up and down. On one cheek lay the long, convoluted green tail of the dragon; on the opposite side of his face, its head rested on his temple. He was wearing a sleeveless black shirt to display an array of gloomy tattoos on his arms as well. When he opened his mouth, Harry spotted a bright silver stud glistening on his tongue.

“What’re you doing here? Who told you about this place? What d’you want?” the man asked, the piercing causing him to lisp slightly. His eyes were harsh, and Harry realized with a jolt of shock that either the guy was wearing contacts, or his irises really were pure jet black. He didn’t sound so high that his pupils had ballooned to that extent, but what would Harry know? Maybe being drugged beyond sense was the norm in criminal associations.

“We’re here to see Kylie,” Harry said, hoping his voice didn’t tremble. He forced himself to meet the man’s gaze, remembering the first rule of prison survival: you’re not scared of anyone. If they confront you, don’t duck away, meet them head on, because that way you won’t look intimidated and they’re less likely to attack you.

“Yeah?” was the sneering reply. “What if Kylie ain’t here?”

“Then I’ll wait,” Harry replied calmly, unflinchingly meeting his gaze. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

“You better not be messing with us, kid. Kylie don’t like getting his time wasted.”

“Kylie told me to come,” Harry told him confidently, “if I ever needed a place to go. And I do.”

With a new interest, the man scrutinized him, while his mates gathered on either side did the same, examining Harry with new interest. “Kylie don’t often say that,” the guy mused. “He must’ve seen something in you…what can you do?”

“Huh?” Harry asked, uncertainty colouring his tone. Forcing his nervousness back, he hastily rephrased “what do you mean?”

“You shoot?”

“What? No!” Harry said in surprise.

“Ever broken into a building? Cracked a safe combination?”

“Of course I haven’t. Who does that?”

“We do that,” one of the guys said, stepping forwards. “Why, what did you think we did? Held tea parties and watched Disney Movies? This isn’t a youth club, mate; it’s a gang hideout. We shoot, we break, we steal. That’s our thing. If you can’t do that, I can’t think why Kylie would want you. You’re no good to us, kid. Take your gay jumper and get out.”