Blowing Smoke (Harry Styles)

Chapter 70

Weeks past, weeks in which I was slowly brought back into the gang world, day by day. I was growing much more and more comfortable with staring death in the face, much better than before. I was able to fire guns at people, stab them, or beat the shit out of them until they actually died. It made me feel powerful and even…dare I say, achieved. Though I was tired, exhausted, which I found strange considering that I got enough sleep. I assumed that it was my body’s way of dealing with the trauma that occurred with Giuseppe.

“Monreau, here’s your share.” Harry said, handing me a random handful of notes. “I know it’s not much but that’s all Paul allowed.”

I counted through it, sighing to myself as I did. “Three fifty-five?” I confirmed and he nodded. I crumbled the notes in my hand. “Good enough.”

“I know. I’ll ask for more next time.” Harry sighed, slightly aggravated. “I talked to Paul, but this was all he gave us. He was going to give us three-twelve. I called him a cheap-fucker.”

“He is.” I agreed, plopping my arse down on the soft mattress of our bed. I wrapped the duvet around my body with a sigh.

“Are you tired?” Harry asked, noticing that I was getting heavy-eyed.

“No. Bored.” I replied, staring out the window, which was streaked in raindrops that fell slowly down the pane. It was a rainy day, grey skies, and gloomy, though this was normal London weather.

“What do you want to do then? We have the day off.”

I sighed, rolling onto my side to see Harry who stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed with his hands in his skinny jean pockets. I admired him for a second in his baggy black jumper and black skinny jeans. He always dressed so casually, which I loved about him.

“How about we play a game?” I offered the idea.

I saw Harry smirk devilishly. “What kind of games, baby?” he seductively whispered.

“Not those kind of games.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Like a board game or something.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like Scrabble, or Balderdash, or Clue.” I listed.

“Definitely Clue.” Harry stated. “I fucking love that game.”

“But we can’t play just you and I.” I pointed out.

“Then let’s ask the others to play.” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright.” I agreed, standing up from the bed. “I’ll go get it from the basement. Why is everything still in its place in the house anyway?”

“We told your dad to leave everything as is, it was just easier.” Harry explained with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know, it’s somewhat usual for us when we buy houses.”

“That’s just fucking weird.” I muttered.

He chuckled.

“I’ll go get it, go get people to play.” I demanded, walking casually out of the room.

I was surprised slightly that I hadn’t seen anyone in the halls, but they probably were all pretty hungover from the small party we had last night. Harry told me not to drink any beers, for some reason, but I listened to him. He and I were the only ones who weren’t completely wasted. I found it quite entertaining to watch everyone else get tipsy and slowly tanked. It was a hilarious night.

I walked down to the basement, which was more of a cellar. It was very small and had shackles on the walls, causing me to assume that this house used to hold slaves. It gave me chills to go down there. Because I was slightly frightened, I ran down the stairs, grabbed the dusty Clue game off the one and only shelf in the entire basement, and ran back upstairs.