The Cunning (Book 1/2)

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Harvey woke up at noon. The sides of his lips were crusty with puss seeping from the slits. His phone vibrated with a message from Mitch to let him know they would be picking him up in the next hour if he was able to talk yet. He replied, telling them he would be ready. The water was still stinging at the fresh wounds when he dabbed a wet cloth over them, avoiding the mirror in a futile attempt to forget the fact that he was permanently scarred. But Mitch had taken his side and said Harvey did well to tell him about the car bomb. It was because of that; he’d take care of Jase and the others.

Harvey hoped he stuck to his word. Jase and his merry nutcases weren’t exactly the kind of people he was comfortable being on the wrong side of for long.

Mitch was leaning on his car outside. He hissed inwardly through his teeth at the sight of Harvey.

“Fuck me they really did you good, didn’t they?” Harvey looked at him through his lashes.

“Where are we going?” he mumbled, unable to move his mouth too much in case he broke open the scabs. Mitch smiled.

“Just for a drive mate, get in.” They drove in silence, pulling up to a semi-detached house that had the curtains closed, and graffiti on the garage door. Harvey hesitantly got out of the car and followed Mitch inside. The room they walked into had a table beside the wall with three boys sat around it, two of them had been in the warehouse the other night.

“Bloody hell, state of you,” one of them said. Harvey didn’t reply, sitting in the chair that Mitch pulled out.

“Did Jase do that to you?” another questioned.

“Him and his psycho girlfriend,” he muttered with a shrug. Mitch raised his brows, chucking a lighter into the middle of the table and sitting at the other end.

“So, the rumours are true? He has a girlfriend?” he asked, Harvey shook his head and then scrunched his nose up.

“Well, no, not really. She’s just one of the girls that live there but Jase has taken a shine to her.” Mitch nodded slowly, inhaling from his cigarette, studying Harvey’s developing scars. It was gruesome, the act and the aftermath of a Chelsea grin. It certainly wasn’t a sight for the faint-hearted.

“How come? What makes her so different?” he asked. Harvey looked at the table, his eyes focussing on the cigarettes. Mitch noticed and slid them over, along with a lighter.

“I don’t know, probably cause she’s a head-case with tits. This was her idea.” He pointed to his lips, his brows coming down in annoyance. “She told him not to kill me and just give me this as some sort of sick warning.” He lit the cigarette. “At first I thought she was helping me but it turns out she’s just as twisted as him and he seems to like it. It’s like they live in this fucked up little space together.” Mitch nodded slowly, taking a long drag on his own cigarette.

“And what’s this girls name?”

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