Mafia's Brat ( Harry Styles A.U.)
Chapter 2.
Rama's diary entry. 1/8/14:
Everyone has a way to get away from life. For some people it's reading, others like playing sports. It keeps you occupied and let's you step into your own little world where you control everything. My get-away is fighting. It clears my head and lets me think in the write way, and if it happens to save my life in the future, that's a bonus.
>>>>>>>>>.
~1o:46 A.M. Sunday Morning~
The only thing going through my mind right now is my target and the rifle I'm holding. I zone in on my target, take my rifle off safety mode. I slowly bring the rifle close to my face, and aim. It seemed as if everything was in slow motion. I watch as the bullet whizzes right into the head. "Bull's-eye" I whisper to myself.
"All those years of practicing are paying off, 'innit?" I hear someone say behind me. I turn around and see Trevor walking over to me. I took off the ear muffs and glasses and put them on the table next to the range.
"Nah, she's just always had that talent with guns." Zayn said, coming out of no where.
"And who invited you into this conversation?" I say teasingly, leaning against the table with my arms crossed. I raised my eyebrows at him.
"I did of course" he said, rolling his eyes, but I could see the grin he's trying to hide.
I didn't reply and pressed the button that would bring my target to me. Once the poster reached me, Trevor whistled.
"Damn Ray," he said looking at the poster. "You got 'em right in the head." I nearly rolled my eyes at the nickname he gave me. He's been calling me that since I was 9, and I still hate it.
"Practice makes perfect, yeah?" I said whilst putting the rifle back in its box.
"Kids, it's getting late. I think it's time to take a break. Ya'll need your sleep because I know you're going to be here later ." Trevor lectured. Him and his southern accent.
"Well, I guess we'll be going. See you later Trev." Zayn yelled while we were walking out.
Once we reached the car I hopped in. I waited until Zayn was in the car to ask my question.
"Zayn? wouldn't it be smart to stay in a hotel in London tonight? We're basically on the outskirts of the city." I suggested, looking up at him with pleading eyes. I've always wanted to go in the city, and Zayn knows that.
"I don't know, it might not be safe with dad's work and all." He looks like he's about to cave in.
"It's just one night. Anyways, what's the worst that could happen?"
"We die." He says bluntly. Well then.
"Oh come on, stop being a Debbie downer."
"Am not"
"Are to"
"Am not"
"Are too"
"Okay okay fine! we'll stay in London, but only for one night! then we're leaving."
"Yay!" I nearly squealed. I had to stop myself, I never want to be the girl who screams all the time.
I turned and looked out my window, a victorious grin playing on my lips. I heard Zayn mumbling about how he's going to be in "deep shit". Drama queen.
>>>>>>>.
~1:43 A.M. Sunday Morning~
After half an hour we pulled up to a really expensive-looking hotel. There was a man waiting to go park our car in the valet. I gave him a smile and got out. Once we got checked in, in a very luxurious two-bedroom suite may I add, I all but ran up the stairs to the room. After about 6 flights of stairs I notice Zayn isn't following me. I go up the last flight of stairs and am greeted with Zayn leaning next to the elevator smirking.
"You know there was an elevator, right?" He said cockily.
"I guess I was too caught up in the moment." I retorted. "Come on I want to see the room" I tugged on his arm and pulled him to the door.
"Key" I demanded, holding out my hand. Zayn hesitantly put the room key in my hand. I mentally drum-rolled in my head while opening the door.
When we walked in, the first thing you saw was the kitchen. Everything looked so shiny and new I didn't want to touch any of it. Once I was finished admiring the kitchen, I quickly walked to the biggest door, hoping it was the master bedroom. I was right. There was a desk and a chair to my left and on my right, a couch and coffee table. The bed was against the wall, and my god it looked so comfortable.
I took my shirt off and wiggled out of my jeans, leaving me in my tank-top and underwear. I put my hair up in a bun and jumped into the bed. Oh Jesus, it's so soft. But I couldn't sleep. It's one of those nights that I wondered, what does it feel like to be in love? That was the last thing I thought about before everything finally went black, and I slept a dreamless sleep.
>>>>>>>>>>.
~10:57 A.M. Sunday Afternoon~
I woke up to the smell of coffee drifting through my room. I swung my legs over the side side of the bed and rubbed my eyes. I slowly got up and when to the bathroom to wash my face. When I looked into the mirror, I looked into the face of a girl with raccoon eyes. I mentally scold myself. How could you forget to take your makeup off? I washed off my makeup and then re-applied it. Once I was finished I walked over to the kitchen.
“Zayn? what’re you making?” He looks up from whatever he was currently cooking and looked shocked to see me.
“Well, look who’s up early!” He said sarcastically. He leaned over the counter to look at the clock. “Before Eleven! That’s got to be a record! And, to answer your question, I am actually making omelets and coffee. Do I win the ‘Best Brother Award’ or what?”
I nearly roll my eyes at his last statement. “I heard this year they’re giving away a new Lamborghini along with the award. You better start taking driving lessons mister.” I say while walking over to him and poking him in the ribs.
“Hey! I happen to be a great driver,” he defends, holding my arms to stop me from poking him.
“I was just playing with you. And thank you for breakfast,” I say, sloppily kissing him on the cheek. He wipes his cheek where I kissed him in mock disgust.
“You’re welcome. Now let me cook, woman!” I back away with my hands up in fake surrender. I turn around and walk towards the breakfast bar, sitting down. I notice a newspaper lying on the end of the bar. I pick it up and started browsing through it, not paying much attention to it.
“Hey Zayn?” I ask, still looking at the newspaper.
“Yeah?” he responds, putting omelets in two different plates and making his way over to me. He puts one plate in front of me and the other in front of the chair next to me. He sat down and looked at me quizzingly. I set the Newspaper down and looked at him.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like for dad, I mean like, his job?” The mood quickly changes from playful to serious. He stays silent for a moment, deep in thought. After a while, he answers.
“I think that, you know with his job being dangerous, it’s probably a really risky life. Not just for him, though. For us too. He has a lot of people after him, Ray. You need to know that. You can’t go picking your nose in his business. I know you’re curious and all, I am too trust me, but if something happens to you…” he drifts off, looking at me with troubled eyes,” I don’t know what I would do. I’m your brother. It’s all on me, I-I don’t know if I would ever be able to forgive myself if you get hurt.” He grabs my hands and looks me deeply in the eyes. “Promise me you won’t meddle around with his business. Promise me you’ll stay out of it.”
I quickly think back to all the times I spent training. Back to the first time I said that I’ll make my Dad proud. I told myself that I would take over my dad’s burdens. I’ve always had that natural instinct to protect my family. I remember when Zayn was just 8 and I was 10. He was being bullied by another boy when I walked by. So, me being me, left Zayn’s classroom, leaving behind a crying bully. I remember walking next to Zayn, grinning wickedly. It was the first time I protected my family and I was determined to not make it my last. Coming back to reality, I look at Zayn, my little brother that is asking me something so simple, but to me, is the biggest thing you could ask me. So I looked back to our hands and embraced him in a hug.
“I promise” I whispered in his ear, rubbing his back.
It was my first lie to him.
Everyone has a way to get away from life. For some people it's reading, others like playing sports. It keeps you occupied and let's you step into your own little world where you control everything. My get-away is fighting. It clears my head and lets me think in the write way, and if it happens to save my life in the future, that's a bonus.
>>>>>>>>>.
~1o:46 A.M. Sunday Morning~
The only thing going through my mind right now is my target and the rifle I'm holding. I zone in on my target, take my rifle off safety mode. I slowly bring the rifle close to my face, and aim. It seemed as if everything was in slow motion. I watch as the bullet whizzes right into the head. "Bull's-eye" I whisper to myself.
"All those years of practicing are paying off, 'innit?" I hear someone say behind me. I turn around and see Trevor walking over to me. I took off the ear muffs and glasses and put them on the table next to the range.
"Nah, she's just always had that talent with guns." Zayn said, coming out of no where.
"And who invited you into this conversation?" I say teasingly, leaning against the table with my arms crossed. I raised my eyebrows at him.
"I did of course" he said, rolling his eyes, but I could see the grin he's trying to hide.
I didn't reply and pressed the button that would bring my target to me. Once the poster reached me, Trevor whistled.
"Damn Ray," he said looking at the poster. "You got 'em right in the head." I nearly rolled my eyes at the nickname he gave me. He's been calling me that since I was 9, and I still hate it.
"Practice makes perfect, yeah?" I said whilst putting the rifle back in its box.
"Kids, it's getting late. I think it's time to take a break. Ya'll need your sleep because I know you're going to be here later ." Trevor lectured. Him and his southern accent.
"Well, I guess we'll be going. See you later Trev." Zayn yelled while we were walking out.
Once we reached the car I hopped in. I waited until Zayn was in the car to ask my question.
"Zayn? wouldn't it be smart to stay in a hotel in London tonight? We're basically on the outskirts of the city." I suggested, looking up at him with pleading eyes. I've always wanted to go in the city, and Zayn knows that.
"I don't know, it might not be safe with dad's work and all." He looks like he's about to cave in.
"It's just one night. Anyways, what's the worst that could happen?"
"We die." He says bluntly. Well then.
"Oh come on, stop being a Debbie downer."
"Am not"
"Are to"
"Am not"
"Are too"
"Okay okay fine! we'll stay in London, but only for one night! then we're leaving."
"Yay!" I nearly squealed. I had to stop myself, I never want to be the girl who screams all the time.
I turned and looked out my window, a victorious grin playing on my lips. I heard Zayn mumbling about how he's going to be in "deep shit". Drama queen.
>>>>>>>.
~1:43 A.M. Sunday Morning~
After half an hour we pulled up to a really expensive-looking hotel. There was a man waiting to go park our car in the valet. I gave him a smile and got out. Once we got checked in, in a very luxurious two-bedroom suite may I add, I all but ran up the stairs to the room. After about 6 flights of stairs I notice Zayn isn't following me. I go up the last flight of stairs and am greeted with Zayn leaning next to the elevator smirking.
"You know there was an elevator, right?" He said cockily.
"I guess I was too caught up in the moment." I retorted. "Come on I want to see the room" I tugged on his arm and pulled him to the door.
"Key" I demanded, holding out my hand. Zayn hesitantly put the room key in my hand. I mentally drum-rolled in my head while opening the door.
When we walked in, the first thing you saw was the kitchen. Everything looked so shiny and new I didn't want to touch any of it. Once I was finished admiring the kitchen, I quickly walked to the biggest door, hoping it was the master bedroom. I was right. There was a desk and a chair to my left and on my right, a couch and coffee table. The bed was against the wall, and my god it looked so comfortable.
I took my shirt off and wiggled out of my jeans, leaving me in my tank-top and underwear. I put my hair up in a bun and jumped into the bed. Oh Jesus, it's so soft. But I couldn't sleep. It's one of those nights that I wondered, what does it feel like to be in love? That was the last thing I thought about before everything finally went black, and I slept a dreamless sleep.
>>>>>>>>>>.
~10:57 A.M. Sunday Afternoon~
I woke up to the smell of coffee drifting through my room. I swung my legs over the side side of the bed and rubbed my eyes. I slowly got up and when to the bathroom to wash my face. When I looked into the mirror, I looked into the face of a girl with raccoon eyes. I mentally scold myself. How could you forget to take your makeup off? I washed off my makeup and then re-applied it. Once I was finished I walked over to the kitchen.
“Zayn? what’re you making?” He looks up from whatever he was currently cooking and looked shocked to see me.
“Well, look who’s up early!” He said sarcastically. He leaned over the counter to look at the clock. “Before Eleven! That’s got to be a record! And, to answer your question, I am actually making omelets and coffee. Do I win the ‘Best Brother Award’ or what?”
I nearly roll my eyes at his last statement. “I heard this year they’re giving away a new Lamborghini along with the award. You better start taking driving lessons mister.” I say while walking over to him and poking him in the ribs.
“Hey! I happen to be a great driver,” he defends, holding my arms to stop me from poking him.
“I was just playing with you. And thank you for breakfast,” I say, sloppily kissing him on the cheek. He wipes his cheek where I kissed him in mock disgust.
“You’re welcome. Now let me cook, woman!” I back away with my hands up in fake surrender. I turn around and walk towards the breakfast bar, sitting down. I notice a newspaper lying on the end of the bar. I pick it up and started browsing through it, not paying much attention to it.
“Hey Zayn?” I ask, still looking at the newspaper.
“Yeah?” he responds, putting omelets in two different plates and making his way over to me. He puts one plate in front of me and the other in front of the chair next to me. He sat down and looked at me quizzingly. I set the Newspaper down and looked at him.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like for dad, I mean like, his job?” The mood quickly changes from playful to serious. He stays silent for a moment, deep in thought. After a while, he answers.
“I think that, you know with his job being dangerous, it’s probably a really risky life. Not just for him, though. For us too. He has a lot of people after him, Ray. You need to know that. You can’t go picking your nose in his business. I know you’re curious and all, I am too trust me, but if something happens to you…” he drifts off, looking at me with troubled eyes,” I don’t know what I would do. I’m your brother. It’s all on me, I-I don’t know if I would ever be able to forgive myself if you get hurt.” He grabs my hands and looks me deeply in the eyes. “Promise me you won’t meddle around with his business. Promise me you’ll stay out of it.”
I quickly think back to all the times I spent training. Back to the first time I said that I’ll make my Dad proud. I told myself that I would take over my dad’s burdens. I’ve always had that natural instinct to protect my family. I remember when Zayn was just 8 and I was 10. He was being bullied by another boy when I walked by. So, me being me, left Zayn’s classroom, leaving behind a crying bully. I remember walking next to Zayn, grinning wickedly. It was the first time I protected my family and I was determined to not make it my last. Coming back to reality, I look at Zayn, my little brother that is asking me something so simple, but to me, is the biggest thing you could ask me. So I looked back to our hands and embraced him in a hug.
“I promise” I whispered in his ear, rubbing his back.
It was my first lie to him.
Notes
Bonjour fuckers, I'm back. I decided to post Chapter 2 today. A lot of action is coming soon, so don't give up on me yet. But I'm letting you know, the shit I wrote was so infuriating and drama-packed that I nearly flipped shit at Rama. So be prepared.
Anyways, you know the drill! Vote, comment, and share. But I seriously want more votes so I decided to set the amount of votes until I update. 10 votes= Update. Tell your friends, tell your mom, tell random bitches walking in the street. I don't care but if you want an update, you better get the votes up to that standard. Bye Mojitos.
-Nikki
Love it, please update! :)
6/20/14