Page 45 of My Family

"Sure you did," I say, sliding up next to him. "You looked real menacing. If menacing means 'shitting yourself'."

Harry grins, but it's thinner than usual. "Comedy hour. Love it."

Ethan doesn't smile. He just stares at Harry, eyes cold. "You want to tell us what the fuck that was, or should we wait for the obituary? It's the fucking drugs again, isn't it?"

Harry glances around, making sure no one is close enough to overhear, then lowers his voice. "I'm dry, I told you,” he says. "Like, Sahara dry. Nothing's coming in, nothing's going out. I've been stalling those guys for weeks."

Jack shows up, hands in his pockets. "You told me you had a new supplier."

Harry shrugs, helpless. "I lied."

I whistle, low. "You're fucked. Like now I see how fucked you are."

Harry nods, lips pressed together. "Yeah. If I don't deliver, I'm dead. Or worse."

Jack snorts. "What's worse than dead?"

Harry smiles. "Ask Deacon. He's got a brother at county. They do things with pipes there."

There's a silence. Ethan breaks it. "What's your plan?"

Harry looks at us, one by one. For once, all the snark is gone. He looks like a real person. "Summer break is in a week," he says. "I need to get to my dad."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Your dad? The guy who sent you here instead of bailing you out?"

Harry's voice goes tight. "He doesn't know how bad it is. He thought this was just a slap on the wrist. He doesn't know… what I've got running. If I can talk to him, face-to-face, he'll make it right."

"Or he'll kill you," I say.

"Probably. But he's used to dealing with my shit." Harry says. "It's my only shot. And I need you guys."

"Us?" I ask. He nods.

Ethan folds his arms. "What do you need from us?"

"I need you to come with me. He listens better when I've got backup. You have to show him that I'm not fucking around, that it's real. That I'm actually fucked."

Jack's eyes narrow. "You want us to, what, intimidate your billionaire father?"

Harry nods, dead serious. "Exactly. I can't fucking do this on my own, my dad doesn't take me seriously. He’s gonna think I’m begging him to get me out, which I haven’t done once in all these fucking years, but he's an asshole, he's always calling me, asking when I'm ready to quit."

That surprises me. I never really thought about Harry having feelings, or anything.

"You always treat us like your second option when it comes to your friends. You don't even eat with us. Why us?" Ethan asks, raising an eyebrow, and Harry actually looks concerned for a second.

"These guys are my clients. Ex-clients now." He says it like we're his real friends. And I believe him.

Ethan stares at him for another beat, analyzing him with those cold (and gorgeous) eyes, and after what seems like forever, he finally nods.

Then, he looks at me. "You in?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely, I have nowhere to go during the break. This will be awesome."

Jack grins. "Guess I'm coming too. I want to see the look on Daddy Westfield's face when he realizes his son is the world's worst drug lord."

Harry beams, brighter than I've ever seen him. "You guys are the best. Seriously."

"We'll handle it," Ethan says. "But you owe us. Big."