The song for this chapter is Lilith - Ellise.

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*TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains themes of drugs. If this theme triggers you then please don't read on & stay safe!*

Celeste

Despite the whirlwind that the last few days had been, I'd never felt freer and truly myself.

The whole concept of me having to live up to a made-up legacy that had been forced upon me from Papa had been well discarded and thrown into the wind the minute Harry had sped down the highway towards Zayn's apartment for the first time with me accompanying him in the passenger side of his slick black Porsche. The minute the wind had hit my skin as he picked up exhilarating speed whilst we sped past every single vehicle on the road, I felt nothing other than absolute freedom coursing through my veins.

Harry and Zayn had made up after Harry's outburst when he walked in on Zayn and me asleep naked on the couch in the middle of the hotel suite. I understood Harry's feelings, however, I also strongly stood in my belief that Harry had no right to act that way and believe that he'd claimed some sort of possession over me. Like Zayn had said to him, I wasn't some object that he could claim and keep to himself. I was my own independent woman and I had complete ruling over my own life and my own decisions. Who I chose to sleep with was my decision and my decision alone.

I owed no loyalties to anybody other than myself.

Nobody could take that power away from me.

However, with all that in mind, the conversation that Harry and myself had in the smoking area of the hotel made me get a slight understanding of what thoughts and emotions were going through his head. I wish I could have understood what was going through my own head when it came to Harry, however, I couldn't have even begun to understand my thoughts prior to the discussion that took place after his outburst at Zayn and me. When I first encountered Harry when he tried to purchase my drinks Sinners, I felt absolutely nothing but resentment and disgust at his arrogance and the way he carried himself. After a few weeks of conversing with him though, I understood what he was seeking and that's what made me build up such a level of defensiveness with him as he tried to dig deeper and deeper into my irises.

Harry wanted every part of me.

All of the ugly parts. All of the grotesque sides.

That scared the fucking shit out of me.

The defensive wall was something that I had spent years building up; it was a mask that I wore in an attempt to try and protect every single part of myself that I had kept hidden in the depths of my core. It kept strong resilience at the slightest knock of the wall that occurred at the hands of Harry, but it was getting progressively more difficult to maintain the architecture of the wall as we got progressively more closer to each other physically and mentally. I tried to fight the feelings that were coursing through me but it was no use.

I'd never felt freedom or absolute truthfulness with myself until I met him. Every positive feeling that had coursed through me was in the face of danger with him. Zayn had played such a large part too, despite only knowing him for a few days. The three of us were like a toxic poison that was so highly addictive that the toxicity had become pleasurable and was something I craved. Harry's rage mixed with Zayn's impulsiveness and my mania was something that needed to be desperately avoided for anybody that faced our wrath. It didn't make sense to anybody on the outside looking in but it made perfect sense to us.

That's all that mattered.

It had been a few days since we'd heisted all of the drugs from The Young Knives in that shabby tattoo parlor in downtown Los Angeles and I could already taste the power and control that I desperately needed another taste of. The minute I'd bust down the door and observed all of the men stood there in absolute shock at the sight of a woman being the head of the operation with two men behind her following orders, I knew that the power was something that I needed.

There's something mesmerizing about seeing the way people quiver and shudder away from the vision of a strong woman being able to control a room full of men with nothing more than her confidence radiating around her like a halo carved from God. I would say God himself but we all know that God is a Woman.

I would say that I myself am God, but that simply isn't the truth of the situation.

I would be lying if I said that I made every single decision keeping the possibility of God's judgment at the forefront of my mind but that also isn't the truth of the situation. I became distinctively aware of the life that I was to lead as soon as I was old enough to understand the full extent of the world that I was born and raised in. In the world that the three of us found ourselves in it was imperative to remove all boundaries and make decisions with your head and not your heart. The people that thrive in the criminal underbelly of the world have a distinctive acceptance that people will do anything to get what they want. They kill without mercy, they inflict pain for pleasure and they love nothing other than the commandments that got them the success they relish in.

If God is real then why does he corrupt the purest of the souls for the momentary pleasure of a trickle of success before ripping it away from them?

I don't believe in God but I believe wholly in the Devil.

I've seen him with my own eyes.

He wears a black suit and carries a pistol.

As soon as I understood the imperativeness of survival in this fucked up world, I understood that the choices I made would have no hint of holiness in them.

I don't believe in pure angelic divinity; I believe that we're all made up of good and evil and the choices that we make throughout our life end up resulting in one overtaking the other so we're either wholly good or wholly evil. The minute that my Mama was snatched away from this world at the hands of a man, I knew that every decision I made from there on out would be cold and it would be calculated. The only purely angelic source of light in my life was gone, therefore what was the point in me trying to pursue the angelic path when it wouldn't contain my Mama? The dark and destructive path that led straight to the Devil's layer was the one that I would follow.

It was at that moment that I began to feel the power of Lilith rise through me and possess every single fiber of my being, leaving the reminiscent shards of Eve to fall around me in memory of what once was. I have no problem taking bites of forbidden fruits and giving in to temptation; it was what filled me with absolute power. The true unholy divinity that I embodied from that day forwards was who I was at my absolute core.

I was cold. I was calculated. I was the Devil herself.

Men fell to absolute putty at my feet when I walked into a room. A single touch from my fingertips made them give in to my every demand. I had the power of a demon mixed with the persuasion of a seductress.

That was my divinity.

Growing into my power and being surrounded by Harry and Zayn who fully understood and thrived off of the power that I possessed was a revolutionary and absolutely necessary step into me finally reclaiming my life and dismantling the bullshit legacy that I was expected to fulfill by Papa. Being a Delgado was worthless if I couldn't be Celeste Andrea Delgado. If I couldn't be every single aspect of myself regardless of external perceptions of whether that was the correct way to carry myself, then there simply wasn't a point in being a Delgado at all.

Zayn called me a goddess.

Harry called me an angel.

I called myself divine.

That's my reclamation of power.

As I sat in the smoking area of the hotel that I'd claimed as my own safe haven, I closed my eyes as I relished in the feeling of the crisp Los Angeles morning breeze. I was dressed in a silk robe that belonged to the hotel and my bare feet pressed against my little bench as my chin rested on my knees. Both of my hands grasped onto a steaming hot mug of coffee as I balanced a lit cigarette in between my fingers. I had grown accustomed to my little slice of heaven in this smoking area since we'd first arrived in the hotel a few days ago with bags full of seized contraband from The Young Knives. We'd been keeping low in the hotel since the heist; we planned to leave that day to return to Zayn's apartment to begin the distribution of the drugs between ourselves using our own personal contacts. We still had a few technicalities to clean up before we departed the hotel but it was necessary for me to unwind and enjoy the serenity before the carnage began. I'd always been a lover of the outdoors and nature but I'd never been given the chance to revel in it and enjoy it until we arrived at the hotel. There was nothing more blissful to me than sitting in a hidden away piece of nature and just listening to the sounds of nature fill my ears as I blocked out the business of city life. Sitting in the serenity of nature was when I felt most grounded and at one with myself, despite how bizarre that might sound to someone on the outside looking in. Bringing the cigarette up to my lips, I took a long inhalation before tilting my head back and relishing the feeling of the breeze against my skin mixed with the light beams of the sun that was still on the journey to a higher point in the sky. My moment of serenity was soon broken by the sound of the door creaking open, my head tilting to the side and my eyes opening so I could get a glimpse of who was intruding my personal time.

A very tired-looking Zayn appeared in my vision, his hair a mess on top of his head and a steaming mug of coffee in between his palms as he padded his way over to the bench where I was. His eyes looked extremely tired as he took a seat next to me; he pinched them shut as he lowered himself down on the bench, a low groan leaving his lips as he tilted his head back against the bench.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked gently, discarding my cigarette before reaching down for the open box of them and handing him one.

His eyes opened as soon I spoke, his attention turning to me as he gratefully accepted the cigarette before a small smile crept onto the corners of his mouth.

"I'm good, just fucking exhausted. That couch isn't comfortable. I can't wait to get back in a bed," he groaned as he lit up his cigarette and slouched further down onto the bench.

A low chuckle left my lips as I took a sip of the coffee between my hands, my eyes moving from Zayn and back to the scenic greenery in front of me. I closed my eyes once more once I noticed the sun moving higher up the sky, relishing in the feeling of the warmth on my skin.

"Where's Harry?" I questioned, keeping my eyes shut as I relaxed further into the peaceful serenity.

"In the shower. He told me to come and make sure you're good."

My eyes snapped open at the remark that left his lips, my head turning quickly to face him. He was already sat there with a slight smirk on his lips and his tired glazed-over eyes observing my reaction. I furrowed my eyebrows out of habit as the remark played on a loop in my brain.

"He told you to come and make sure I'm good?" I reiterated.

He nodded slowly in response as I scoffed and sank back down into the bench, a small tut leaving my lips before I sipped my coffee again.

"It's not me he should be worrying about. He knows that."

A short time of silence spread between us as Zayn continued to smoke his cigarette; his head was resting back against the bench as his eyes fixated on the same scenic greenery that mine were fixated on.

"You don't need to tell me that, princess. Harry's always like this when he's fixated on something."

The words snapped me out of my blissful reverie; my head instantly turning back to Zayn who kept his gaze fixed forward to avoid locking gazes with me. Did I hear what he said correctly?

Fixated on something?

"What on earth do you mean? Fixated on something?" I asked, a slight lacing of defensiveness creeping through my words as I didn't drift my gaze from an increasingly more nervous Zayn.

"Exactly what I said, Celeste. Fixated on something."

"Well, do you care to fucking elaborate?"

A low frustrated exhale left his lips as he proceeded to pinch his nose in frustration. I knew Zayn well enough to know that he would never lose his temper or act out of aggression towards me. He had a dangerous side of him, that much was evident, but it was a side that he knew when to pull out and use to our advantage. Zayn was a dangerous man, just like Harry was a dangerous man and I was a dangerous woman, however, he would never do anything to purposefully inflict pain upon those he cared about or in the very least valued. Once he'd managed to calm and collect himself, he changed his full body language so he was completely facing me. He locked his irises with mine before he placed his mug on the bench.

"Listen to me, C. Harry's a very complex person as you already know and he acts with no fear of the consequences. He's impulsive. He's manic. He's deranged. He lives recklessly and loves fiercely. He hates people with a passion but shines selflessness at the same time. You soften him. You give him a sense of rationality. Yet, you make him act on emotion at the same time. He's never been consumed with anything other than himself for a while. He's fixated on trying to make sure that he's not the man he once was before you stumbled into his life."

I sat in absolute silence as I processed the words that left Zayn's lips. Having someone that wasn't Harry solidify what Harry had spoken to me the night of the heist when I was high on coke made everything seem so much more daunting to me. I had no reason to doubt what Zayn had told me; he'd not given me a reason in the last few days to believe that he would lie or be untruthful and I did have a strong feeling of trust for him, something that was incredibly unusual for me. I finished the last few drops of my coffee before placing the mug on the floor and rubbing the pad of my thumb across my lower lip. Zayn hadn't broken eye contact with me since he'd told me about the impact I'd apparently had on Harry. I let out a shaky exhale before locking my irises back with his and revealing my truth.

"Honestly, Z, I don't think I can be what Harry needs. I'm just as impulsive. I'm just as manic. I'm just as deranged. I've lived my life up to this point in the image of what I thought people wanted me to be. I've lived a lie up until the last few days and I still haven't been able to fully comprehend the pace and the speed at which my life has taken such a dramatic change of axis. I'm in no way saying that I don't love the fact that I'm beginning to embody every fucked up part of me, however, I don't think that Harry deserves to be dragged into my fucked up life. He's just as unhinged as I am and to be involved romantically with me would just send him further into a downward spiral."

Zayn hung on to every syllable that left my lips, placing his hand on my knee in a comforting manner as he nodded slowly at my words. He reached forward and grabbed my hands in his, lowering his gaze to mine slightly as a soft smile spread across his lips.

"You are both unhinged; fuck we're all unhinged, Celeste. I don't think that the fact that you're both equally as fucked as each other should hold you back, though. You have a fucked up love language I won't lie but you're not the villain that you've made yourself believe that you are. You have a kind heart and you're impulsiveness is just because you act on emotion. Being emotionless will do you nothing other than break you further in the end. It's impossible to force you to do anything, I've gathered that over the last few days, but Harry deeply cares about you and I certainly do. You're a perfect mix of sugar and spice, and I think you should give yourself more credit."

My eyes began to fill up with forbidden tears that I quickly rubbed away with the pad of my thumbs. I couldn't comprehend that someone who I'd only known for such a short period of time could have such a positive impact on my life in the way that Zayn had. The sense of trust that I'd formed for this man was a trust that I truly didn't think I'd ever be able to form with another human being. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him as I rested my head on his chest, which he returned by wrapping his arms around me in a protective manner. I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent me from bawling my eyes out on his chest. Zayn rocked from side to side with me in his arms as he ran the tips of his fingers through my hair in a comforting manner.

"You'll be okay, Celeste. You both will."

I couldn't even begin to form the words to thank him in my throat so I settled for nodding my head. I sat myself back up once I'd managed to collect myself and locked gazes with him again. He nodded in a knowing manner as he stood up from the bench and straightened himself out.

"We should head upstairs. We still have the stuff to sort out," he spoke as I nodded in response and collected my items before standing up.

Zayn held the door open for me as I stepped through and began to make my way to our hotel suite. I took the steps one at a time in a desperate attempt to try and slow down my journey so I wouldn't have to come face-to-face with Harry. My attempt was futile and short-lived as I arrived at the door of our suite, pushing it open to reveal Harry adjusting his belt on his jeans in the mirror. He was shirtless and had nothing else on other than briefs and his jeans; his toned back was flexed as he adjusted the belt to his desired taste and his curly locks were damp on top of his head. As soon as he heard our entrance to the suite he looked directly at me in the mirror, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he observed my speechless state.

"Take a picture, angel. It'll last longer."

His words came out thick and like gravel as he reiterated one of my most infamous lines back to me. I rolled my eyes and placed my belongings on the table before plopping down on the couch and resting my head back against the cushions.

"What's the plan?" Zayn questioned, taking a seat on the couch next to me and putting his feet up on the table, knocking a few things off as he did so with absolutely no grace or delicacy.

Harry turned around to face us and made his way over to the couch, taking a seat on the arm of the couch right near my head. I kept my gaze fixed on the wall on the other side of the room as I tried my hardest to prevent my face from reading how I was truly feeling on the inside after my conversation with Zayn. Harry began to thread his fingers gently through my hair as I remained unreactive at the gesture.

"We need to split the drugs between us, firstly, and we can't keep it all at your place in case you get raided. It's not as if you're a low-profile member of the public. We need to figure out where we can keep it until we shift it," Harry responded, never stopping the rhythmic routine of running his fingers through my hair as he spoke.

"Well, where are we going to keep it?" Zayn asked.

I sensed Harry shrug behind me, causing me to roll my eyes as I averted my gaze to Zayn who looked like he was deep in thought.

"You're both fucking idiots. We need to rent a warehouse or a storage container. That's the only way we're going to be able to keep the drugs secure and all have access when we need to. Lana used to fuck someone whose father owns the containers downtown. I'll have to get her to get the information," I said, observing Zayn's eyes light up at the notion that I once again had the solution to a minor problem.

Harry stopped running his fingers through my hair as he stiffened slightly behind me before replying, "Is it a good idea to get Lana involved in this, Celeste?"

I sat up from my position on the couch, turning my attention to Harry as I raised my eyebrow at the question that left his lips. It looked as if his face had been drained of any previous colour that once occupied it and his demeanor was completely different from the playful way he'd been when we'd first entered the room.

"Why do you care for my best friend's safety so much? I've known Lana my whole life and I'm pretty sure that she's able to locate a number for me."

Harry looked dumbfounded at the response, running his fingers through his hair in a slightly frantic manner as he processed what I said. He cleared his throat and shook his head as he leaned back on the couch, folding his arms across his bare chest as he locked gazes with me.

"I don't care for her safety. I care about this information getting into the wrong hands," he responded as if it was completely obvious that that's what he was implicating.

"The wrong hands? What are you insinuating?" I fired back at him, the defensiveness for my best friend beginning to crawl over every inch of my skin as I stared intensely into his green irises.

He rolled his eyes in a condescending manner as he closed his eyes and rested his head back further back onto the back of the couch before replying, "Absolutely nothing, Celeste. Get the number from Lana."

The arrogance and know-it-all demeanor that he had going on was causing my blood to boil. I felt Zayn's hand gently rest on my thigh in an attempt to calm me down but it was a futile attempt. I stood up from the couch and made my way over to the bathroom, grabbing Zayn's shirt and the newly cleaned underwear that I had on the first night we arrived on the way. I didn't bring any change of clothes with me since I hadn't known the route we were going to go down but Harry had taken a few of our items to a laundrette to get them cleaned. Once I'd stormed my way into the bathroom, I proceeded to slam the door shut behind me to shut out the protests from Harry. I let out a frustrated exhale as I placed the clothes on the bathroom counter and locked gazes with my own reflection in the unforgiving mirror. I groaned at the sight of the dark circles under my eyes and the tiredness that was evident on my features before I began to do a basic routine of brushing my teeth and cleaning my face.

I had no intentions of staying around Harry whilst he was playing into his cocky and arrogant persona; I wasn't fucking dumb and I knew what we needed to do. I'd had so much itinerary-based knowledge through keeping on top of Papa's warehouse operations diary that I knew the basics of what we needed to do to prevent ourselves from getting raided or heisted. I would have liked to believe that Harry knew that I was more than just a bad temper and a pretty face but it was evident that he still had this deluded perception that he knew more about all of this than I did. Once I'd made myself look somewhat presentable, I got dressed into Zayn's oversized shirt that fell just above my knees and put on my underwear. I ran my fingers through my hair and messed around with it till it fell in a messy manner around my face before exiting the bathroom. Both Zayn and Harry's heads snapped in my direction as I picked up one of their belts from a pile of clothes in the corner of the room and adjusted it around the shirt so it made it look more purposefully styled. I began to look around for my knee-high boots when Harry's voice cut through the air.

"Where are you going?"

I ignored his statement completely, pulling on my boots from the night of the heist before collecting my items from the table and looking for my clutch.

"Where are you going, C?" Zayn reiterated, causing me to snap my head to the side so I locked gazes with him.

"I'm going to go and sort this shit out since apparently, my information isn't valuable to the other party in the room," I responded to him, his eyebrow-raising as he listened to my response.

"The other party in the room is right here. For fuck sake, Celeste, I never meant for it to come across like I'm discrediting you," Harry groaned out, standing up from his position on the arm of the couch as he stopped in front of me and tried to put his hand gently on my arm.

I snatched out of his attempted grasp, placing my items into my clutch before averting my gaze up to his and responding, "I'll text you the number when I get it. Don't call."

I began to walk my way over to the door of the suite, Harry following behind me and saying, "How the fuck are you going to get there, Celeste? You don't have your car."

I opened the door and stood in the frame, turning around slightly and displaying his Porsche keys in between my fingers before turning back on my heel and exiting down the hallway.

The door slammed shut behind me, cutting off any loud protests that were leaving Harry's lips at that moment. I made my way down the flight of stairs and towards the entrance of the hotel, pushing the door open and exhaling as soon as the Los Angeles sun hit my irises. I reached into my clutch and pulled out my sunglasses, placing them on my face as I took long strides towards Harry's parked Porsche in the parking lot. I unlocked the vehicle and slipped myself inside, placing my clutch on the passenger seat as I turned on the air conditioning. I closed my eyes briefly behind my shades as I reveled in the feeling of the cold air blasting on my face. I knew that there was going to be shit when I returned back to the hotel later for me taking Harry's keys but I couldn't have given a single fuck at that moment in time.

I was reclaiming my power.

I revved the car to life a couple of times, a slow smirk spreading across my lips before I proceeded to speed my way out of the parking lot and into the busy freeway. I wound down the windows of the car, allowing the breeze to spread through the car as I kept up the exhilarating speed down the freeway and towards Lana's house. Being behind the wheel of the Porsche whilst reliving that moment from the night of the heist was a completely different level of freedom that I didn't know I was craving. I craved being in control of the freedom I was experiencing despite that being the definition of irony. To be in control of the speed that I was flying down the freeway, and being in control of when I stopped, was a whole different level of adrenaline that I was currently experiencing coursing through every vein in my body. I weaved my way in and out of the vehicles that were occupying the freeway; a manic laugh leaving my lips at the numerous horns that were honking at my recklessness. I didn't have a single caring or fearful feeling in my body at that moment; I was free.

Due to my manic speed, I got to Lana's house quicker than I anticipated. I knew that I couldn't have gone inside in fear of her father spotting me there and informing Papa of my whereabouts; I couldn't cope with the persistent phone calls and text messages that I would receive if he got wind of where I was. I'd managed to keep my phone on airplane mode for the duration of my stay at the hotel with the boys and I didn't particularly want to break that streak now, however, there was no other way of me contacting Lana to tell her I was here. I groaned as I reached for my clutch and pulled out my phone, disabling airplane mode and instantly putting the ringer on silent so I wouldn't have to hear the insistent pinging from days worth of built-up calls and texts. Ignoring all of the notifications that were coming through, I proceeded to dial Lana's number and held the phone to my ear.

"Celeste? Where the fuck are you? Where have you been? I've been worried fucking sick you stupid bitch! Are you okay? What's happened? Are you safe?"

I rolled my eyes as I listened to Lana's frantic tone ringing through my eardrums after no more than two rings before she answered. She was so overdramatic.

"Lana. I'm fine. Do not, and I mean do not tell your father where I am. Do you promise?" I responded.

"Yes, I fucking promise. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Where are you?"

"I'm parked a few houses up from your house. I'm in a black Porsche. Meet me here," I replied to her, keeping my gaze fixed on her house as I waited for her response.

"Got ya."

I hung up the call and switched my phone back off before placing it in my clutch and stuffing it down the side of my seat. I flexed my knuckles on the steering wheel as I waited for Lana's emergence from her property. It was a few minutes later when I saw Lana walking up the pavement towards the Porsche. She had a pair of black cargo pants, a cropped white sweater, and her signature Dr. Marten boots on; her hair was straightened to perfection and her make-up was flawless.

She was flawless.

She reached the vehicle in no time at all, fumbling for the handle of the door as she slipped into the vehicle quickly. She shut the door behind her before she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I smiled to myself as I returned the hug briefly before pulling away and keeping my gaze fixed on hers from behind my glasses.

"What the fuck, Celeste? What's been going on?"

I started the car up and quickly pulled away from Lana's road before I replied, "You don't even want to know, Lana. Trust me. You're better left in the dark about this."

She shook her head in a furious manner as she kept her posture turned towards me. I could tell that Lana wouldn't let this go and I knew that she would just keep being relentless in her pursuit of answers. I was well aware that I would have to tell her the truth eventually, but for her own safety and my own sanity, I decided on an altered perception of the truth.

"Right. Remember the guy from Sinners?" I questioned.

"Drink on my tab guy?"

I nodded before pulling into a desolate street away from Lana's property, and from the eyes of her father, proceeding to cut off the engine and turning my attention back to her.

"Yeah. Well, we've been hanging out recently and it's been nice. I don't want my Papa or anything fucking it up, so I decided to drop off the grid for a little while. I'm sorry for not calling and letting you know that I'm good but I didn't want to involve you and put you into that situation. You know how relentless Papa can be."

Lana listened to every single strand of bullshit that left my lips in a pathetic excuse of trying to keep the truth away from her. I knew she'd buy it; she had no reason not to and the thought of me spending time with another human being with implications of it being romantic would be enough for her to swallow it up. She sat back into the seat of the car and raised her eyebrow at me.

"You've been hanging out with the guy from Sinners? You've been hanging out with a guy?"

I rolled my eyes at the response that I fully expected from her, a low chuckle leaving my lips as I. nodded and fixed my gaze forwards again.

"Well, I'm happy for you. If you're having fun and letting loose a little then I'm not going to stop you. Just check in with me you fucking stupid bitch! You know I've got your back when it comes to your dad," she responded, smacking my arm lightly as she delivered her speech.

A soft smile spread across my lips at her response as I said, "Thanks, Lala. Oh, whilst I'm here I need to ask if you still have that guy's number whose father owned the storage container? Harry needs to store a few of his old motorcycles in one."

Lana raised her eyebrows once more, a smirk etching on her lips as she reiterated, "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry."

Lana dug her hand into her jeans and pulled out her phone as she began to unlock it and search for the number, a little snide comment leaving her lips.

"Anything for Harry."

I rolled my eyes once more, leaning back into the seat of the car as I waited for her to finalize an agreement on a storage container with her ex-fuck. I twirled a few strands of hair around my fingers as she worked her magic on the gullible man at the other end of the receiver. She finished the call, eventually, and turned to face me from the passenger seat.

"They've got a container available. Two thousand dollars a month for what you're asking. I've got the address and other information, but I'll need to run inside and write it down for you because you've decided to join the world of the hippies and ditch your cell."

I nodded as I took in the information, a small smile spreading across my lips accompanied with a chuckle before I responded, "You're the best, Lala."

She beamed at the compliment before adding, "Plus, I need to grab you an emergency back of cosmetics and some fierce clothes. You look like shit."

I scowled at the diss that she shot at me before starting the engine of the Porsche and pulling away from the street that we'd pulled into. I stopped a few houses down from Lana's again, cutting the engine as she climbed out and made her way inside. I pulled my clutch out from down the side of the chair and rested it in my lap before pulling out my phone and switching it on to text Harry that I had a storage container available. Once I'd sent the text, I got a response almost immediately that read:

'Text me the info. André picked us up. On our way back to Zayn's.'

I read the text and let out an instant exhale at knowing that I wasn't going to have to drive all the way back to the hotel to collect the both of them before driving back downtown. I put my phone back in my clutch as Lana arrived back to the car with two large Louis Vuitton bags that were brimming with cosmetics, clothes, and shoes. I popped open the trunk from the inside of the car to allow her to drop the clothes in there. Once she'd shut the trunk she emerged at my side of the car, slipping a folded piece of paper to me through space of the rolled-down window.

"Everything that you need is on there. He expects a cash up-front payment. Make sure that you call me soon and let me know you're safe. I love you, CeCe."

I smiled as I took the slip of paper from her fingers and placed a gentle kiss on her hand before replying, "Thank you, baby. I love you."

She stepped back from the window and gave me a small smile and wave before she made her way back into her house. I returned the wave before pulling away from Lana's street and pulling out my cell. I kept it placed on my lap until I pulled over again a few houses up to text Harry the information and to meet me there with the two thousand dollars payment. I pulled away again and headed to the location that Lana had written on the paper; I put my foot down on the accelerator again, allowing the feeling of the breeze to wash over me once more. It was a strange way to think but I believed that feeling the coldness or the wind on your skin was a reminder that you are alive. The feeling shifts me from my subconscious to the reality that I'm experiencing.

It was a feeling I'd never get tired of.

I arrived at the location of the storage containers in virtually no time at all; Harry, Zayn, and André were already there and standing against what I assumed was André's car. I cut the engine of the Porsche and exited the vehicle with my clutch in hand, locking the car behind me as I made my way over to the three men.

"Finally returning my car to me?" Harry questioned, his eyebrow arched as he observed me striding towards them.

I stopped dead in my tracks in front of them, twirling the key between my fingers as I seethed, "I'm here to do business, boys. Not have a conversation."

Zayn and André let out a whistle as Harry clenched his jaw at my response, trailing his finger across his lower lip as he cleared his throat.

"What number is the container, C?" Zayn questioned, folding his arms around his chest as he locked his gaze with mine.

I turned my attention to him and replied, "26C. Have you got the money?"

He nodded as he turned on his heel and began to lead us to the lot full of containers that had numbers on them. André didn't follow us to the containers; he stayed put in his car to keep guard of the contraband that was stashed in his trunk.

"I can't see a 26C, Zayn," Harry informed him, keeping his gaze flickering between all of the containers as we walked around in what seemed to be circles.

"Yeah, me neither. Are you sure this is the right address, C?" Zayn asked, turning his attention back to me briefly as we kept walking.

I nodded before replying, "This is what was on the paper Lana gave me. It must be here."

The three of us turned a corner into another lot of containers before we all stopped dead in our tracks.

"I believe that you have something that belongs to me."