Let's Roll- Larry Stylinson

Chapter XXX

After Harry left Louis, he revealed himself to Malik, holding his hands in surrender as it was all he could do for the time being. Malik wore an evil smirk, six men at the ready. They were all big and burly and had faces carved of stone. Harry was intimidated, but the knowledge that Louis was doing everything in his power to bring his men out here was enough to keep him bold.

"Well if isn't the man of the hour." Harry dropped his arms, gazing over the men and Malik to see what chance they stood. Harry had more men, they wouldn't be outnumbered. His men were a powerhouse compared to these brutes. They might seem like statues of rock, but there game had to be weak, Malik always had slim pickings. "Not so sharp now, are you? No army behind you, no Louis. Did he leave the second he realized you were a murder? I would have never admitted it, would have fucked him real good and dumped him before he even asked."

Boiling rage put Harry into action faster than he would have liked, firing his toughest crack in the form of a punch. He flails when Malik's men take hold of his arms, hoisting him backward. "Don't go packing a punch when you're alone." Harry grit his teeth, avoiding the struggle. It never would have worked anyway. He knew he wasn't at death's door, not when he can make out the sound of footsteps behind him. Malik must have been caught up in himself, rambling off about something or other rather than keying in on the sound of an ambush. He's definitely caught off guard when Harry's men charge forward, his men falling like saplings in the wind. It's full-fledged battle, man throwing fists and kicking knees in attempts to weaken the enemy.

Harry was free of their hold, anger directing him to Malik. Malik wasn't stupid and for that Harry comes face to face with the barrel of a gun. It's pointed at his forehead, ruckus seizing once the threat has raised a level.

"I suggest you stay back, that's if you want to live to see another day." Harry stared at Malik, accepting his fate. He knew one day this would happen, that some rival gang would have him at their mercy. He never had an idea of who it would be until Malik painted the town red, clear signs of an enemy invading territory back in Chicago. Harry tried his hardest to slip by, evading the foreseeable as he saw fit. He wanted to see how long this game would run, how long he'd fit into this world as a mere criminal. Criminals tend to die young.

However, a nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that today cannot be the day of such foolery, nor could it ever come. Louis was hiding away for him because he promised he would make it out alive. There's no ifs, ands, or buts, Harry would leave this battle with breath in his lungs because Louis said so. He checked his perimeter, trying to see what he can take to his advantage.

Nothing much stands out as weaponry, Harry disregarding that idea as soon as it came. He remembered then that he's supposed to have outnumbered Malik's ranks but there are only six men out here. Where are the other two? He stared back into Malik's eyes, seeing what the holdup is, why a bullet hasn't come flying through his brains. His answer stood behind Malik, the click of more guns echoing in the silence. Not just one, but both of his men were directing their bullets to the back of Malik's head, a double shot sure to have etched some fear. Malik's eyes were wide, his steady hand shaking with what could come.

"Gun down Malik." Harry's men demand, putting more pressure on the back of his head in warning.

"What you think you've bested me because of this? You thought wrong." He made to shoot, finger tightening on the trigger, but Harry's men were quicker, simultaneous bangs knocking Malik out cold. Harry exhaled, shaky breaths as he touches his chest, not dead. He fell to his knees due to an emotional breakdown, feeling incredibly lucky of the outcome. He might not be entirely happy that Malik lies in a pool of his own blood in front of him, but his one tormenter has bit the dust and Harry could laugh he's so happy. Malik's men retreat in the background, stealing what they can and making a break. Harry was more concerned for his men who have all disappeared now that the threat is gone.

Rushing footsteps make him lift his head over to the left, where his men are carrying an unconscious Louis. Hysteria breaks loose as Harry brings the boy to his chest, somehow fearful that Louis wasn't okay. He pressed fingers to his neck and his ear to his chest, the thump in his chest comfort to Harry's ears. He was alright. He was still with him. Harry held the boy as close as possible as they fled, never once letting go of the boy until they were safely hidden away.

Louis has yet to calm down since Harry entered, feeling dizzy off the fact that this is still his reality. Harry didn't leave him and he's sitting with him, holding him like a treasure. Louis should be the one holding him, treasuring him after what he had to go through. He clings even tighter to the man under him, legs wound so tightly around Harry's waist it's just on the brink of painful. But Harry understands the depth of it, of why Louis has to hold him like this. He needs to hold Louis like that too, hands gripping onto his back hard enough to leave bruises.

And it's in this moment that Harry knows Louis is all he ever wants, all he ever needs, no matter what life brings, what's thrown their way. Louis needs to always be in his arms, to be by his side, through thick and thin, for better or for worse. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd want to share it with, this complicated life he lives. Only Louis, always Louis.

"Louis, I love you." Louis' crying again, sniffling into Harry's neck as he mouths the words against his skin.

"I love you, Harry. I love you so much."