by J A Wynters
I just shook my head. My jaw clenched.
The paramedic tipped his head as Alice sagged in their arms.
“Wait,” She groaned as they led her out of the room, “Happy birthday, kiddo.” It fell like lead into the silent room. I heard Mia’s soft gasp and could feel the pity as it leached from the two men carrying my mother away.
When the door slammed behind them, Mia stood in the centre of the room, leaning against a plastic chair as if it afforded her some sort of protection from the mess she’d just witnessed. Her eyes searched my face for answers I didn’t want to share.
“You need to get cleaned up.”
“I’m okay.” She crinkled her nose at the vomit soaking her singlet, it stuck to her body like stinking glue
“Follow me.”
“Who is she?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Mia hadn’t budged from her place by the chair. Her wondering eyes, full of questions, burrowed themselves into me, searching for answers I didn’t want to give. “Is she your mother?”
“She’s Alice.”
“Gabriel?”
I sighed rubbing my hands down my face. “Yes.”
In a few strides, she was next to me, a delicate hand lifting my chin, her eyes full of concern were searching mine. “Are you okay?”
Was I okay?
Why did the question beat against me like a hammer threatening to shatter all my walls? Why did her concern pierce so deep that it was like a stab? Why was she asking? I wanted to scream, to fall to my knees, to break down and weep for the childhood I never had, for the dread I’ve carried waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for a corpse to identify.
No, I wasn’t okay; I wasn’t anywhere near okay. But her delicate hand on my chin, the sweet caress of her fingers soothed the pain just a little.
“I’m fine.” I lied; because the lie was always easier than the truth.
I peeled her hand from my face and laced my fingers through hers. “Come on.”
She allowed me to lead her to my room and stood waiting as I searched my cupboard. I pulled out an old T-shirt, the one I wore the night I was with Rita. It was going to be too big, but it would have to do.
“You can use my shower.” I handed her the shirt and a clean towel, “This is clean. You can wear it when you go.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lower lip and headed to the bathroom.
I crumpled onto my bed, my head cupped in my hands. The pipes hissed and screeched to life, and steam leaked from the semi-open door. My eyes shifted to the gap. Through the opening, I glimpsed movement. My body stiffened and I sat up. Mia’s image appeared in the mirror.
She tore off the ruined singlet, and her purple bra clung to her body as she tugged at her skirt. With dainty, practised moves, she unclasped her bra and released her breasts. I sucked in a deep breath and felt myself harden. Her perky nipples danced in creamy pools of swollen flesh. They would fit into my hands perfectly. My mouth grew wet as she took her underwear off. There she was, naked and glorious. All I wanted was to break that door down and bury myself inside her, to find release, relief. I almost felt guilty.
Almost.
My cock twitched and pushed against my jeans. Mia stepped away into the waiting shower, and her figure disappeared as the mirror fogged over.
I imagined her in the shower. My shower. Lathering soap on her body, washing my mother’s sick off her skin. The thought gave me the slap I needed. I lay back down, breathing and sucking down all the savage thoughts that consumed me.
When the pipes died down, my body stiffened once more. I lay still, waiting and forcing my eyes on the ceiling, knowing that if I saw her again I would have no will power to hold myself back. I would have to take her.
Claim her.
Make her mine.
And then, I would break her.
When the door opened, she was wrapped in a towel. Water droplets clung to her flushed skin. I could understand why, once I touched that smooth skin, it was too hard to keep away, to not hold on to it forever. I needed it. Hair stuck to her forehead in wet clumps, and her face bore none of her makeup. Her usually bright-red lips were pink and soft—and just as delectable. Her pile of clothes hung in her palm, her bra like a cherry on a mismatched cupcake.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
I bolted from the bed and slammed the bathroom door behind me. I needed distance, I needed to wash the day away. I was still covered in dog shit, hair, and slobber; and now, Alice’s vomit and disgust. I needed to wash away the desire, the pain, the lust, and anger.
My mind was in shreds as I stepped into the steaming shower. Despite the scrubbing and churning, I didn’t feel clean; I didn’t feel relief.
I dried off and wrapped the towel around my hips. When I opened the door, my heart leapt to my throat.
“What are you still doing here?” I wanted to sound cold and angry, but I was too tired; too tired to fight my desires.
Mia’s eyes grew wide as they took a leisurely journey up my body. My dick twitched in response. I’ve seen that look before—appreciation, desire, heat.
Mia rose from the bed, my T-shirt looking far too big on her slim frame. She had slipped back into her skirt and boots, and her hair cascaded in damp waves along her neck.
With a few long strides, Mia closed the distance between us, stopping only inches away.
I was suddenly very aware of being naked below my towel.
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Fuck. Why did she have to be so soft? So caring?
“I’ve already told you I was fine.” I brushed away her concern, but she didn’t move.
She raised her hands to my shoulders, my stomach coiled at the touch. Ever so slowly, she traced the slope of my muscled arm and trailed across to my abdomen, her fingers light and delicate, sending hot shivers across my body. She curled her index finger in the hairline just below my belly button. She yanked at the hair lightly, eliciting a low hiss from me. She pulled through the trail coming to a stop at the boundary of my towel. My breathing became ragged, and my heart drummed an uneven beat.
She lifted her eyes to mine. I could see myself there, wild hair and narrow eyes, want and desire spilling everywhere.
Mia trailed her fingers back up and wrapped two hands around my neck, pressing herself against me. I sucked in a deep breath as we both felt my body react. My cock twitched, swelled, and grew.
“What are you doing?” My voice was scratched and hoarse.
“No one should celebrate their birthday alone.”
Before I could speak, her lips were on mine. I had a split second to think, to react.
I stood motionless as her lips beat against mine, frozen and unresponsive. I allowed her to humiliate herself against me as my body raged, and my soul shattered.
When she pulled away, her face was twisted and her eyes glittered with tears. Her lips quivered as she studied my face; hers full of questions, and anger, and pity.
God damn pity.
“It’s not my birthday.” My voice was back to its frigid temperature.
Nail in the coffin.
Her hand cracked across my face, leaving behind a hot sting. Mia turned around without another word and ran out of the door. Seconds later, I heard the iron door slam. It echoed my heart, chugging against my chest.
I pounded at the wall. My fist clipped the door frame, and skin scrapped off my knuckle leaving a long red smear.
“Fuck!” I yelled at the wall, at the emptiness, at my pain.
It was my thirty-second birthday.
I expected Salvatore to call me at sunrise saying he’d had no luck, but it took less than three hours for my phone to ring. The searing heat of my anger and frustration flamed as I hung up the phone. Nothing seemed to work that night. Not a single fucking thing could take the edge off; not jerking off or running with Spots, not even downing a few shots.
Every time I thought I might be over the cauldron of feeling that bub
bled inside me, I would think of Alice’s blue lips and Mia’s glossy red ones, Alice’s shut eyes and Mia’s teary ones, Alice’s hoarse voice and Mia’s husky, needy one. I couldn’t get them out of my head. The cauldron kept bubbling as they cast their spell on me.
So, when Salvatore called, I focused on my goal. I had one mission. My head was finally clear.
I marched to the storeroom and grabbed a roll of large plastic sheets. The plastic clung to my sweaty arms as I made my way to the back of the workshop.
I had rearranged a lot of Tony’s mess, and that included a lot of renovations; but, as I’ve said before, he was not a stupid man and if I hadn’t learned from him, I would have been dead already. Like Tony, I also had a back room. The kind that only a few people in the world knew about. It was a third of the size of Tony’s, but I didn’t need much space to beat a man to death.
Oh, did you still think I was a good guy? You need to be paying better attention.
I felt for the hidden panel and pushed the button which in turn popped. A door slid away from the fake wall, allowing me access into the room. I waited for the door to shut completely before I switched the lights on. The fluorescent lights exploded to life with a dull buzz. I set the sheet on the floor and placed a single chair in the middle of the room.
I texted Salvatore that I was in the back, and he assured me he was five minutes away.
I switched the lights off and edged along the wall to the opposite side of the room. Waiting.
Darkness amplifies everything. Fear. Desperation. Loneliness. Anger. My thoughts burned into me in deep, painful furrows. Insanity was a dark, deep rabbit hole.
I heard the latch of the door and straightened up. The sound of pathetic whimpers filled the small space and was soon followed by the crunch of plastic sheets as Salvatore and his man walked into the room.
“Lights, boss.”
I covered my eyes and could feel the light as it burst to life beyond my eyelids.
When I opened them, Salvatore and Joe were strapping in their cargo. I studied the snivelling mess that now occupied the chair. His clothes were dishevelled and hung off his body as if they were waiting for him to grow into them. His thinning brown hair was peppered with white, tumbling well below his shoulders. Blood and snot dripped from his nose and stained his long moustache and beard.
He looked at me through scared, blue eyes which darted from me to his bound hands.
I remained silent assessing this man. His story could have been sadder than Alice’s, but I didn’t give a fuck. I wondered how many kids he had fucked up in his wake? How many lives he had ruined with his choices? It didn’t matter. That night would be the last time he did any of that.
“There’s been some kind of mistake.” He finally started snivelling.
“Salvatore over there doesn’t make mistakes.” I kept my voice calm and even.
“Look, I don’t know what you think I did, but I mean you no harm man. Just let me go, I have no debts to anyone.”
“You do now.”
“No, man, no. I’m all paid up.” He clenched his fists and, for the first time, I noticed he was missing a little finger from both hands as well as the ring finger on his right hand.
“No, you’re not.”
The man shook his head, and his fingers twitched and moved as if he was counting. He mumbled to himself then finally looked up. “I’m all paid up.”
“Do you know Alice?”
“Everyone knows Alice.” For a second he forgot his predicament and relaxed. I knew why. He was thinking about Alice. But not like I was. He was thinking about her sucking his cock, or wrapped around him, or bent over a park bench.
I grimaced at the answer and he flinched, his head hitting the back of the chair.
“What’s your name?”
“Fat Rob.”
My eyebrow arched by itself. “I used to be a bigger man.” He gave me a weak smile, a gaping hole in his gums where his teeth should have been.
“Did you see Alice tonight, Rob?”
“I did, for a minute.”
“Just a minute?”
“Maybe more.”
“Tell me about it.”
He swallowed and smacked his lips together then pulled on the restraints. When they didn’t budge, he started. “I was begging on the intersection of Oak and Fir. There’s always good traffic there around morning time; you know all the fancy people going to their fancy jobs in their fancy sui—”
“I don’t give a fuck about them, Rob.” It was a harsh whisper that sank all the way to the pit of his stomach. I saw it in the way his eyes shifted and body recoiled. I’ve seen that look on many men before. “Just tell me about Alice.”
Sweat broke on his forehead and he nodded. “She walked past me. I didn’t even recognise her at first, you know. She looked amazing. All filled up and clean. You know she has hips now you can really hold on t—”
My fist connected with his cheek and his head flayed backwards, smashing into the back of the chair.
He screamed in agony and tried to fight the restraints. I know the feeling of stinging pain that you can’t do anything about; all you have to do is feel it, let it sink in and burn. Accept that it won't go away and move on.
“Alice.” I hissed
Rob cried and snorted in loose snot. He shook his head and continued through sobs. “She recognised me, man. I didn’t even...” He sucked in a long breath, trying to calm himself. “She offered me a hot meal. You know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten anything hot and in the presence of…” He flinched as I moved, “A lady?” He finished and I let it be.
“She bought me a hot soup. I told her I had no way to repay her, and she said she didn’t need any money; she had someone looking after her, and that she could help her friends and such now a little bit.”
“Rob.” I stopped him and he baulked at the mention of his name. His eyes, wide and rheumy, flickered wildly across the room. “Just tell me how Alice got high today.”
At that, he froze. His neck pulled back and down like a toddler, thinking I couldn’t see him if he stopped looking at me.
“Rob? Has the cat got your tongue? Just a minute ago you were telling me about soup.”
Rob shook his head mumbling to himself.
I threw my body weight into the next punch; my patience was running thin, and my frustration had gotten the better of me. I drew my hand back and ploughed it into his stomach. I could see his face collapse as all the air expelled from his lungs. His howl was pained and broken as he sucked in small breaths, trying to regain relief. His hands and legs fought the restraints. But before he had the chance to recover I punched him a second time, this time across the eye. I heard the mild crunch, and his flesh turned an angry red. I knew it would start to swell in minutes.
His body sagged as he snivelled and cried, fighting the pain, fighting the anguish, fighting his hopelessness.
“Last time Rob. Alice. Where did she get the drugs?”
“I…I…I…I…offered her some.”
“She’s been clean for two years, why would she take it from you?”
“She wanted it.”
“Did she?”
“Hey man. It’s the truth. Alice used to be a good-time kinda girl.” He winced at my growl. “The Alice that was next to me, she looked great but she wasn’t the Alice I knew. She was bone dry and boring, and she wasn’t really livin’, you know?”
“Livin’?” I cocked a brow, my voice hissed at the man who shrivelled against the hard chair.
“Yeah man, you know, You gotta live if you wanna be alive.”
I clenched my teeth and, suddenly, all I wanted was another shower.
“So, what happened?”
“I told her she forgot who she was, and I offered her a quick hit. She said no. So, when she wasn’t looking, I slipped some into her coffee. You know, just a taste. A reminder. She mellowed out real quick after that.”
My fists shook and my jaw hurt from the tension.
“That was that?”
“I…I…I…Yes, that was that.”
“Rob. I’m going to ask you just one final time. That was that?”
“Well…” I stood up and he flinched as my body stalked his pathetic shape. “She let me inject her and then she kind of laid there, you know? All happy and content and beautiful. I just couldn’t help myself, and she never said no. She started vomiting about half way, twitching and convulsing and shit.” His face twisted as mine darkened. That motherfucker was going to have a very bad night. “Anyway, when she started getting sick, I brought her here. You know, this is the place. Everyone knows her son lives here. Or used to. She told everyone about him. All proud and shit. Anyway, I have my own problems man. So, I left her. She seemed a little better. She was talking and standing. I left her with a woman. She seemed okay.”
“She seemed okay?”
“She was talking…standing…” he swallowed. “She was coming here anyway, something about a birthday…” He hung his head and pulled on the restraints once more.
“How many times did she say no?”
Rob leered at me through cracked lips, “Come on man. You know Alice never says no to—” The sound of his head smashing against the back of the chair as my hand connected with his jaw was satisfying.
I bent down by the chair so he would have to look at my face, so there was nowhere else to look. “I was talking about the drugs. How many times did she say no?”
“I don’t know man.” He grunted an airless sound as my fist connected with his belly. I could almost feel his spine as my hand moved through him.
“How many?”
Rob cried and snivelled, his body trying to cave in on itself. “Maybe five, maybe more. I wasn’t counting, man; I was just trying to give her what she wanted.”
I stood in silence, contemplating his words.
“Thank you, Rob, for being honest with me.”
“No problem, man.” His mouth turned in a hesitant smile. “Look, just let me go okay? I’ll go smoke a bit and, by morning, I won’t even remember what happened. I’ll think I got mugged again or fell down the subway stairs.”