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theclearblues · 7 years ago

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Hades | Chapter 5 | Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader (Mob!Tom AU)

Word Count: 2.8k

Notes: Sorry this took so long I have so many AP courses it keeps me super busy, enjoy xx

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Harrison slid a small stack of stapled papers across the desk, bold black ink painted the whole page. Y/N ran the tip of her finger along the edge of the thick paper, gripping a fountain pen in her other hand.

“If you want to look over it one more time feel free,” Harrison told her. He was more serious today, probably because of the business setting.

“So I sign this, and I’m the Hollands’ bitch?” She raised her eyebrow and looked up at him from the arm chair she sat in.

He opened his mouth to protest but Y/N spoke before he could, smiling as she dropped her chin to look at the contract, “alright.”

She scribbled her full name on the dotted line and slid it back to him, “anything else?”

Harrison was flipping through the pages, making sure there were no other areas that required a signature. Y/N glanced around the room, the large globe sat undisturbed in the corner, the designer clock above the desk ticked with each passing second. Her eyes landed on the two month calendar that laid open on the desk. All of the dates were filled scribbles in black ink that gave a reminder for a meeting or deadline. But the 8th of September bore a thick red ‘X’ through the whole box, it drew attention from the other dates. There were no red markers on or around the desk, then it hit her.

“Haz, where’s Tom?”

“Erm,” he put down the package of paper, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at his watch. “He should be in the gym, it’s just down the hall.”

“Thanks,” she shoved the chair back and ran out the door to find the gym.

+++

Tom wore black hand wraps around his knuckles, they were damp with sweat from hours of punching. He didn’t wear gloves, he had been building up his tolerance for pain since he was a kid and this was just another way of doing so. His skin had split and was peeling on the top of his knuckles, droplets of blood pooling at the sides of the wound. Sweat dripped down his chest and through his abs, lost somewhere in the band of his workout shorts. Tom’s brown curls were plastered to his forehead and his cheeks were hot as he huffed and grunted as his fist made contact with the bag’s cover. It swung wildly from the chain it was suspended on, and it was pissing him off. His scowl became darker as it took the bag longer and longer to swing back to him. His fingernails would have punctured the skin of his palm had it not been wrapped, he clenched his fists as he felt the red hot anger rise in his eyes.

It wasn’t just the bag that made the rage course so freely through him, it was Rob Martin, the game Y/N was insistent on playing, his father’s mistakes that made his job so much harder, the ultimatum that looked over his shoulder every waking moment.

His knuckles were red and inflamed, his fingers were stiff and shook violently as they were moved from the fist he had held so forcefully. All Tom saw was red as he turned away from the swinging bag and grabbed the gun out of his jacket that hung on the wall behind him. He took off the safety and shot the chain above the bag, making the hundred pound bag come crashing to the floor. Dust flew up from the sides as Tom breathed heavily, now with the gun back in his jacket pocket.

He was observing the damage as he glanced Y/N in the doorway to the boxing room, leaning against the doorframe, a sly smile resting on her lips.

“You got him,” she laughed. It was a sweet laugh, smooth like the whiskey he had come so accustomed to. It took over his sense and it was all he could think about, Y/N’s eyes were bright as she looked at him with a lively expression. She walked from the doorway and sat on a bench on the wall.

“Have you been in your office recently?” She asked, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

“No,” he huffed, reaching for a bottle of water, “why?”

“Because there’s a deadline in your calendar, it’s a big red ‘X’. Did you do that?”

“No,” he frowned, “what day is it?”

“It’s on the 8th of September.”

“So that’s when I have to make my decision,” his voice was hard. He understood what it wa there for, but angry. How could someone have walked into his office, wrote in his things and no one notice. He needed to get Harrison to interview all the staff.

He grabbed his phone out of his jacket pocket and called Haz, telling him to call all the staff that were working last night to the meeting room.

“It’s hot when you boss everyone around,” Y/N said under her breath. She chewed her lip as she looked up at him, her hand under her chin as she leaned forward in her seat. He had to think about what she had said, shocked as the words left her mouth.

He walked by Y/N and sat beside her. The sweat on his body beginning to disappear. Y/N grabbed his hand, his arm tensed up at her touch, hesitant to do something wrong.

“Relax,” she soothed him. Y/N began to unwrap the cloth that was wound around his wrist and hand, gentle as to not rub against his raw skin. His hand felt cool as the air hit his once covered skin, he flexed his fingers to rid them off their rigidity. Y/N reached across him and pulled his other hand into her lap, the unwrapped one still resting on her thigh.

Maybe it was fatigue taking over his mind, or how her hands brushed against his as she unwrapped his hand. But he began to relax beside her, letting down his guard. The rage that had reached a high only minutes ago had subsided and he was left with an urge to lay silently beside Y/N, to listen to her breathe peacefully and watch her fingers intertwine with his.

As the thoughts crossed his mind, Harrison pushed open the door and peeked in.

“Tom, you’ve got mail.”

And suddenly, his guard was up once again, and he quickly pulled his hands away from Y/N. He threw his shirt over his arms and tossed his jacket over his shoulder. Tom was about to leave as he stopped and looked at Y/N, who still sat on the couch, watching him.

“Well, are you coming?”

+++

It was the same kind of package the last blackmail had been sent in, except this time the pictures on the inside weren’t accompanied by any note.

It was a photo of the front patio of 94 Ellis Road, Ivan dragged a woman’s body out of the front door. Blood laid in a streak behind her, and the window next the door showed a small face peaking between curtains. Even in the low-quality picture, anyone could tell it was a young Y/N. Her face held no tears, nor any sign of surprise. Perfectly depicting her knowledge of Ivan’s hobbies, and therefore the fact that she never reported him. She was an accomplice, at least that’s what the photo showed.

“Fuck,” Y/N cursed as she stood over the desk. Harrison had displayed the contents of the package across the desk. Tom and Y/N observed, analyzing the pictures and reading the ominous note:

Tick tock

Tom was trying to work it out, why hadn’t she said anything to anyone?

“Why hadn’t you reported him?” He didn’t show any anger as he asked.

“Because, I was a six year old kid when I found out. I didn’t know it was wrong at first, it was just something I lived with. Then when I was 12 I asked a friend about it at school, social services came and he got investigated. But he covered it up so well, and nothing ever happened. Then he showed me what happened if I opened my mouth about it. I still have the scars, and I still have the trauma. So you don’t get to fucking judge me for something you have no idea about.”

She was furious, even talking about her life made her blood boil and her eyes fill with a familiar fire. She didn’t want to be so harsh, but Y/N was tired of no one understanding her situation.

Y/N waited for Tom to yell back at her, lash out. She expected it from him, he didn’t like it when people raised their voice to him.

He replied quietly, “okay.”

How soft his voice was surprised Y/N. He look at her tenderly as he said it, afraid to break her with his typical harshness. Though he knew she was not fragile, he would never test her breaking point. If beside him stood anyone else, he would gave them a taste of their own medicine.

Then suddenly, Tom had an idea. He looked across the ebony desk to Harrison.

“Harrison, call Jacob. Now.”

Tom was marching up the stairs, Y/N followed him.

“So what’s the plan? Don’t you dare try to keep me in the dark, Holland.”

“Jacob’s an old friend, one of the best hackers in the world probably,” he said as he took the steps two at a time.

“He’s going to hack Martin? Then what?”

He stopped, “darling,” Tom lifted her chin up as he stood on the step above her, “we’re going to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

Tom kissed her cheek quickly then bounded further up the steps, “I just need to change into a suit!” He called down.

Y/N stood on the step, butterflies in her stomach as she thought about him. She tried to shake the feeling away, but the butterflies never ceased.

+++

Tom and Y/N arrived at a small house found in an older area of London. The windows were dirty and discoloured curtains hung behind them. Cobwebs in the corner of the window frame swayed lightly as the late summer breeze pushed through the street. A lonely fold up chair was placed beside the door, dust covering the seat and more spiderwebs laced between the legs. Tom rapped his knuckles on the door, causing dust to erupt from the ridges of the door’s colonial design

Y/N heard locks sliding open and a chain falling against the door frame before the door opened to reveal Jacob. His dark hair was messy and unkempt, it stuck up at the back and the front of it was skewed across his forehead. He wore a baggy shirt and sweatpants, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. The bags under his eyes were a dark purple and his one hand held a cup of steaming coffee.

“Morning,” Jacob grumbled as he pushed the door open wide, then turned away from them and walked down the dark hallway. Y/N glanced at her watch, it was 4:30 in the afternoon.

She looked over at Tom, questioning his judgment on his friend. He gave her a look that said “just trust me” and then followed Jacob down the hall.

He was sitting at a desk with four computer screens lit up around him, his fingers twiddling along the keyboard in front of him at a rapid pace. The LED lights light up his face with blue light, he was completely focused on the screens.

“Jacob,” Tom reminded him that they were there. He looked over at Y/N and Tom and looked confused for a moment then remembered.

“Oh right,” he swallowed and turned to the screen directly in front of him, “I got into your guy’s system. He’s smart but not as smart as me.”

Jacob smiled to himself as he pulled up a file and opened the first document.

“We’ve got some credit card transactions, pretty basic stuff. Just some groceries and etcetera. There’s record of him buying a couple packages that match the description Harrison gave me, but you can’t really nail him with blackmail with just that.”

He closed the credit card records and opened another PDF.

“This is where it gets interesting. Harrison said Martin was a big solicitor for your brothel, right? Well I guess he got some complaints from a customer once or twice. He must have gave them his phone number or something, pretty fucking stupid if you ask me,” Jacob scrolled through the document, faster than Y/N or Tom could read it.

“This one guy, anonymous, said that the girl he was with started crying and telling him that she wanted to go home. Another one is the same kind of complaint, but different girl,” Jacob closed the PDF and turned his chair to face Tom.

“It looks like the man’s gotten himself mixed up in some sex trafficking.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped, her voice caught in her throat and her face went white. The whole time she was working at Nova, she knew about the brothel. She turned to Tom, barely holding on to her anger as she spoke, “did you fucking know? Are you running sex trafficking shit?” Her fists were balled at her sides, ready to throw a punch.

‘Y/N, no! We don’t fuck around with that shit,” Tom was serious, his brow was furrowed as he looked down at her.

“Martin’s been running his own secret business under our nose. Jacob, is there anything else that nails him to the trafficking?”

“I’m sure there is, I haven’t been able to dig too deep. Give me 12 hours and I’ll send you everything I know.”

Tom nodded and then Y/N and him left the house.

Before Tom could climb into the driver seat, Y/N ran round him and hopped in, “get in the passenger seat.”

After Tom sat beside her with his arm leaning on the console he asked, “where are we going?”

“Nova.”

+++

It was a bit past five when Y/N pulled the car up beside the entrance of Nova. The club hadn’t opened yet, but she knew the brothel would be. Instead of going through the front door of Nova, she walked down the alley beside the building and shoved open a door that led to the brothel.

Y/N had never been in there before, but she’d seen old men walk in after getting directions from Rob.

There were no ‘clients’ in the brothel, Y/N thanked her timing for that. There was a long hallway with several doors leading to what she assumed were bedrooms. She walked all the way down to the end and knocked lightly on a door.

A young girl cracked it open, her large brown eyes looking up at Y/N with fear.

“Yes?” her voice cracked as she tried to speak.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Y/N crouched down and spoke to the girl at her level.

“Why? I’ve done everything they’ve asked. I don’t-.”

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m a friend,” Y/N soothed the girl, brushing her hand over her small one.

Tom walked down the hall and the girl shut the door a bit, her hands shaking against the wood.

“Tom, can you stay out here, please.” It wasn’t a question.

The girl hesitantly opened the door to let Y/N in to the room.

+++

Y/N talked to several girls in the rooms of the brothel, when she finally emerged from her last conversation Tom was leaning against the wall, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. His curls fell over his eyes as he looked down into his hands, when he heard her heels clicking against the hardwood he looked up and raised a brow, eager for information. He wasn’t used to not being in control, he hated waiting for news.

“They all know who he is, and they all said he was the one that took them. I doubt any of them would say anything in court though, they’re all afraid.”

“They won’t have to say anything in court,” Tom adjusted his feet to stand tall and upright, “it’s blackmail, darling.” He smiled and led her out of the brothel, on his walk he dialed a number into his phone and held it up to his ear.

“Haz, I want the brothel shut down. But don’t make any big moves yet, first we have to take care of Martin.”

Tom looked to his right and smiled at Y/N. They drove back to Jacob’s to plan their message to Rob Martin.

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