Pairing: Mob!Harrison/Reader
Summary: You know Harrison will get you back. It's only a matter of time
Warning: Blood, violence against women (will put most under the cut so you can avoid if it may be triggering)
A/N inspired by something @hazshauntedbelle and I were discussing
Your lip is bleeding and your eye is swollen shut. The coppery tang of blood seems to be permanently embedded on your tastebuds.
And you laugh.
It’s a high pitched, manic affair that has your captors staring at you like you’re a lunatic. Maybe you are. Maybe the days of abuse have finally gotten to you.
“Shut that bitch up!” The one who’d you come to recognize as the boss barks to his men. Gianni? You try to remember his name. You haven’t had much to drink the last few days and even less to eat. It’s hard to even keep straight how long it’s been.
You recognized him from the get go, of course, though his name alluded you even than. He’d fancied himself one of Haz’s most trusted men but that had never been the case. He’d never been on the inner circle and never would be. Maybe that's why he’d broken his oath of loyalty to the family.
He’d known just enough to get past your security detail. You try not to think of your bodyguard, your friend, that had his brains splattered across the seat of your towncar the day they’d taken you. You focus on a mental image of your love. The depths of his ocean blue eyes and the memory of his soft, languid kisses keeps you going.
“Why the fuck won’t she be quiet?” One nameless goon asks another. No one wants to come near you as you sit bound to the chair, your fingers are numb from where your wrists have been zip tied too tightly, pins and needles erupt each time you try wiggle blood back into them. Your laughter reaches a fever pitch, you're short of breath from it but you can’t stop. You were the paramour of the head of the premier crime syndicate in London and these fools thought they’d get away with taking you, with hurting you. They thought Harrison Osterfield would let someone take what belonged to him and live.
Gianni crosses the room and you see the stars as a brutal backhand connects with the side of your face. Your head reels and you spit blood on the floor. It splatters on his fine Italian leather shoes but your too dizzy to notice. You giggle quietly and he gets down in your face, hand gripping your chin tightly. You look straight in his eyes and he grins.
“What’s so funny, Princess?”
“You’re going to die” you sing-song as bloody drool dribbles from your mouth onto his hand.
“You so sure of that? Maybe I've already offed that son of a bitch. Maybe you're mine now and I'm getting ready to bury you in a shallow grave next to him?”
You try to smile but can only wince as he squeezes tighter, his fingers press onto bruises that have bloomed on your skin the last few days.
“My baby is the devil himself and he’s going to let your drown in your own blood.” You inform him with utter certainty.
Gianni lets loose your face, you watch him ball up his fist and brace for what’s about to come but the hit never lands as a sudden series of loud ‘pops’ breaks the silence. Shots from a sniper's rifle. Gianni’s men fall in rapid succession, blood pools around them, the room suddenly resembling one of the Jackson Pollock paintings Harrison had hung in his private gallery. Gianni himself barely has time to react as the steel reinforced door is blown off its hinges and his knees explode in a pink mist.
Harrison stalks across the room, tucking his gun into his shoulder holster, while his men file in behind him. Tom is to his left and Harry to his right. You sag against the ropes binding you. He doesn’t spare the traitor a look as he crouches in front of you. His hands are warm and gentle as they cup your cheeks. For the first time in days you feel hot tears spill across your cheeks.
“I’ve got you, Angel.” He says softly as Tom cuts through the ropes and zip ties holding your wrists. He lets go of your face to take your bruised wrists in his hand, massaging them slowly.
You fall forward and into his arms and you burrow into him. His hands run softly over your back, pausing when you flinch or stiffen. He growls lightly as his hands run over your side and you bite back a cry of pain.
“I knew you’d come.” You manage to whisper as his lips travel to your temple, crusted with dried blood, and kisses it tenderly.
“I’d travel to hell and back to bring you home, Sweetheart.” he murmurs softly, “My beautiful, brave girl.”
Gianni squeals like a stuck pig and your attention is drawn to where Harry is standing on one of his pulverized knees. Harrison doesn't turn his attention away from you until Harry addresses him.
“What are we going to do about this one boss?”
Harrison rises, supporting you like you weigh nothing. He nods to Tom and passes you off into his waiting arms.
“I need you to go out to the car now, ok?” You nod quietly. Harrison places a soft kiss to your forehead before he nods once to his second in command. you watch as he shrugs his suit coat off. He unbuttons his cuffs one at a time and rolls each sleeve up. “Tom will stay with you while my old friend here and I have a little chat.”
