Ethan Walker's Road To Wonderland (Road To Wonderland #3)

by L. J. Stock

  Pushing up from the steps that probably led to his shitty flat, he stumbled and managed to unceremoniously dump Jessica on her arse in the middle of the path that led to the street. He barely realised she was there, let alone notice the glare she was aiming at him for his thoughtlessness. She held her hand out to me expectantly, her eyelashes looking like she was having an epileptic fit as she prompted me to help her.

  "I'll be in the car," I snapped, heading off and leaving her where she was as I dug my keys out of my pocket. I was there for one reason, and that was to protect Eddie on his drop. That was it. Everything else could be thrown under the bus if necessary. She was just a dead weight, and knowing her, a liability.

  As luck wouldn't have it, Jessica ended up in the front seat with me while the jackass sprawled out in the back seat, the bag he used to transport the drugs hugged to his chest as his eyes darted around to any shadow that dared move. I'd only been around Manchester up to that point, but the dog and pony show were dropping in Liverpool. It meant being in the car with Jessica longer than I liked, but as she had much delight in telling me, if she didn’t go, neither did Eddie, and that was just more trouble than it was worth.

  "Guess who I saw the other day?” she said when we were almost halfway there. I knew nothing good was going to come of it. I could already hear the tone heading toward goading. Jess was an addict first and an open book second. The drugs had made her selfish and naive. She thought she was more conniving than she actually was. Eventually, if she stayed on the road she was on, she’d end up a paranoid mess like Eddie was, but that was neither my concern nor my problem.

  "I don't care."

  "Oh, come on, Ethan. It's a long drive. Are you gonna be a grumpy bastard the whole way?"

  "If you don't shut the fuck up, yes!"

  Jessica threw herself back in her seat and crossed her arms, pushing her already overexposed chest upwards until she was practically indecent. I tried very hard not to use the rearview mirror as I drove, because it was impossible to miss her tits as it was. Whether she was doing it on purpose or not, I had no idea, and I honestly didn't care.

  It only took thirty minutes for her to finally break. Eddie was passed out on the back seat, his arms still around the bag as he snored.

  "I saw Rhiannon," she blurted, her hands slapping her thighs as she bounced in her seat. "I heard a rumor you were her first fuck."

  "Classy, Jess." I scratched my cheek and looked out the window as I changed lanes, but I might as well have held up a neon sign with: Ding, ding, ding, that’s the right answer.

  "I fucking knew it! I knew it. You are that big of an arsehole, and she… What a back stabbing bit–"

  My head whipped around, silencing the word she was about to utter. I may not have been in love with Rhiannon. I may not have even been that interested in her. In fact, I may have been the biggest arsehole on the face of the planet to her, but it had never been because of anything she'd done. She was one of the sweetest people I'd known, which was the only reason I felt as bad as I did about what happened.

  It was also the reason I reacted the way I did.

  "Don't you fucking dare bad mouth her, Jess. Don't you fucking try it. I will pull over and kick your arse out." I nodded to the back seat. "He's the one I need to look out for, not you. Just remember that. You're nothing. You always were."

  "What the fuck happened to you, Walker? First you fuck me, then you treat me like I'm a whore. Then you fuck my best friend, which, frankly, I blame you both for. She knew how I felt about you. Now you have the audacity to act all high and mighty about it?"

  I reached forward and turned on the radio, flicking the volume so it would drown out her nasally whining. Nothing had changed. I may as well have been back in school because this argument wasn't a new one. Every girl in the place had been warned away from me because, in Jessica's mind, I'd been hers, even though I'd made it abundantly clear at every point I could that I didn’t have, and never had, any interest in her whatsoever.

  Unable to take the hint, Jessica flipped the radio off and turned in her seat, scowling at me. She looked like a muppet, her features over animated and exaggerated, more than likely because of the drugs in her veins.

  "I've had a crush on you since the day I met you, Ethan."

  "Believe me, I'm aware of that," I grumbled, rubbing my chin and grabbing the drink I had for something to do. This wasn’t going to go anywhere good. I was setting myself up for failure by acknowledging her attachment, because she was going to bitch and moan about it the whole way back to Manchester.

  "You knew?"

  "You were about as subtle as a neon flashing light."

  "Why did you never give me a chance?"

  "Because I wasn't interested," I said as gently as I could, hoping that maybe she would listen this time. Especially considering she was bringing this up with her boyfriend in the back seat.

  "Why did you sleep with me then?"

  My body jerked so quickly that I almost drove us off the road. I turned my head to her and back to the windshield several times, the anger slowly bubbling to the surface as my incredulity pushed out a sarcastic laugh.

  "Are you fucking serious? You. Drugged. Me!"

  "You make it sound like I forced you into it."

  "That's not what I'm saying, Jess. I know for a fact I was a willing participant, but you coaxed me into it by putting drugs in my beer."

  "Your mum had just died. I figured you were going through a rough patch. I wanted to cheer you up."

  I slammed the heel of my hand against the steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road, the wheels of the car locking up because I hit them so hard. Eddie rolled in the back seat and slammed into the back of my chair with a curse before rolling over and passing out again.

  "You don't know the first thing about what I was going through. Look around, Jess. You didn't exactly do me a favour. I'm a fucking drug addict, and though it’s my fault, you instigated it. I will never forgive you for that. I've lost my family and my best friend because I can't stop. You say you were doing me a favour... If that's what you consider a kindness, please don’t ever do me one again. Now will you please shut the fuck up!"

  "You really don't like me, do you?"

  I turned in my seat to look at her. "You're only just figuring that out?"

  For the first time since I met Jessica, I felt a tiny twinge of guilt. The rest of me shouted that this was her own fault, that she'd done this to herself. In truth, she had. I couldn't have made myself more clear if I'd spelled it out for her, and I had, several times. She’d just sat there with her head bowed, her fingers picking the thread of her jumper.

  "Jess, you have to stop this shit. I am not interested in you, and you have your boyfriend in the back seat."

  "We can't be friends?"

  "How about I just stop being an arsehole and you stop being such a bitch? Friends is a bit of a stretch."

  She looked up at me, sucking in a deep breath as she mentally spoke and recanted several times before deciding what she was going to actually say. I’d offered her the only resolution. She and I would and could never be friends. There was too much bad blood there, but I could be civil.

  "I can live with that," she finally said with a sigh.

  I nodded and put the car in gear before pulling away. Even if the truce was just for today, at least it would give me some peace from her endless chatter.

  Thankfully, despite the long drive and the constant drone of Jessica's chatter, the deposit went without issue. It was when I dropped them home that my executive decision making should have been taken away from me.

  The day had been going so well up to that point, too. I'd taken Eddie to the club to hand over the money, waiting for him so I could drive them both home and be done with it. I hadn't planned on stopping long, and maybe if I hadn't paused to listen, I would have been okay, For whatever reason, I knew it was partly because Jess was the only person that had remembered, when even I hadn't. She'd climbed out of
the car, and I thought I'd managed to get away for the night. She turned on her towering heels and danced back to the car so I unwound the window.

  "I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Ethan. You want to come up and get high with us? Celebrate in style?"

  Yes. Amid all of the bullshit that had been going on in my life up to that point, I'd managed to forget my own birthday, and so had everyone else. I couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in my stomach. Even as a bit of a junkie, I realised exactly why it hadn’t occurred to me to remember. How could I be upset with anyone else for forgetting?

  "I appreciate it but no thanks, Jess. You two enjoy your night."

  Jessica, classy as ever, dug in her bra in an appalling fashion and flashed a grin at me. "Then take this. No pressure to do anything but it’s there. Just have a good night."

  When I looked down, I didn't have to examine what she'd given me. I knew exactly what was in my hand. Heroin. It was one of those drugs I’d forbidden myself to take after the debacle with the acid that got me thrown out of my childhood home, but even with that memory, my fingers closed around the package.

  If I was smart, I’d have given it back to her, or flushed it down the toilet, or anything other than what I actually did do with it, but hindsight is a malicious bitch. If I’d had any kind of foresight, I’d never have let my mum leave the house that day, and I never would have agreed to go to the party with Scott.

  "Thanks, Jess."

  "See you on the next trip," she sang with a quiet giggle.

  I watched her skip up the stairs and slid the heroin in my pocket without looking at it. I wasn't even sure I knew what to do in order to cook it. We'd had some people shoot up at the house during parties, but I hadn't been paying much attention. I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't touch the shit. I'd seen it destroy people. If it was anything like acid, I was going to end up making an arse of myself.

  Derek, in all his infinite wisdom, knew exactly what to do with the heroin I'd brought home. Paul and I watched while he sorted three syringes and handed one each to the two of us as we sat in the living room like the addicts we were. I'd come home and checked my phone, and there had been nothing from either Scott or Dean about my birthday or them coming around. Even knowing that, it wasn't an excuse to do what I did next. Nothing could have excused that. It was more the sales pitch that arsehole roommate of mine gave me. Every word made it more appealing.

  "It's fine, mate. As long as you don't make it a habit, right, E?" Derek tried to convince me again, holding out the needle and nodding at the belt in my lap.

  "Yeah, I mean, I do it once every six months or so," Paul piped in, ever so helpfully. It was all well and good to think like that when you didn't work with the shit every fucking night. I still wasn't sure I wanted to tempt fate. Hell, I already had a problem with most drugs known to man.

  It was at that point I tried to dig deep. For a moment, I tried to push past the dwindling high from the last hit I’d taken hours earlier. I tried to think like a non-junkie for just one second, but found myself coming up short. Maybe that’s what had given me the final nudge, knowing that the part of me that wasn’t a junkie no longer existed.

  With a groan of frustration, I wrapped the belt around my arm and tightened it, pulling the loose end in my teeth until it pinched my skin almost painfully. Tapping the crease in my arm, I took the needle from Derek and slipped it into my vein, the tiny bee-sting barely registering as my blood mixed with the already rusty-looking liquid. With one last deep breath, I depressed the plunger and released the makeshift tourniquet.

  I don't have many words to describe the feeling of the high. The moment it hit my bloodstream, every worry I'd ever had in my life seemed to float from me as the floor turned into liquid that suspended my body indefinitely. Nothing mattered to me in that moment other than the drugs and the beautiful emptiness that left me warm rather than cold. There was no pressure, no expectations, just me, in my own head, floating on the floor as the shag of the carpet billowed against every part of me like a thousand fingers.

  "Fuck. This is good stuff." Paul's voice came from somewhere in the room, and I smiled as the walls slowly reformed, replacing the cloud I hadn't realized I'd been floating on.

  "Holy shit. How did I not know about this? I feel so..."

  "Warm?" Paul asked, his voice muffled.

  "Safe?" Derek offered with a girly giggle.

  "Content," I corrected them, laughing loudly. I pushed up from the floor and wobbled on my feet. It almost felt like everything else was moving rather than me.

  "Mate, you're walking like you shit yourself."

  "Fuck off, you wanker." I grinned and tried to correct the way I was walking, even though I felt completely off balance.

  The drug and the high it invoked, was beyond words. Every insecurity and worry I'd felt over the past few months melted away into nothing. The world and every wrong in it righted itself. The hole inside me, the pain of losing something I would never get back, it all just went away. I felt confident and euphoric, safe and indestructible. Nothing could touch me where I was.

  For a while, I couldn't understand where the paranoia came from. In my little bubble, I just was. Nothing beyond that mattered - at least, not until Dean showed up.

  It was obvious he knew something was up from the moment I opened the door. I felt like I'd floated all the way to it, the carpet giving me a spring in my step and a swagger I'd never actually used before. He stood there, staring at me with wide eyes of disbelief, and I felt the balance I’d been enjoying start to slide into a negative burn in my gut.

  Sudden panic gripped me. My baby brother should not have been exposed to that part of my life. Trying to find the words to explain, I failed miserably as Dean shook his head and walked away. He buried his hands in his pockets and shrank down into his coat, marching down the pavement to the car he'd been fixing up for months.

  "Dean! Dean?" I found my voice too late and almost fell flat on my face as I tripped out of the front door. Throwing my arms out to catch myself, I realized the belt was still loose around my arm, the tip of the needle hanging from the crook of my elbow. I'd been so fucking lost in my own head, I hadn't even noticed. Fighting through the haze in a desperate need to sober up, I knew I would have to be careful with this. The temptation was too great to focus on the good floating feeling it gave me. Though, I had a hunch I would never get the look Dean had given me out of my head.

  Like the old proverb says, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Saying and doing, for me, were two completely different things. I’d told myself I was in control - that I could do my work and get high like I had with every other drug, that I wouldn't be addicted.

  That was complete bullshit.

  The next couple of weeks, I fought the urge to shoot up, simply so I could do my job effectively and get paid. I was in charge of Eddie and Jessica, and was told, in no uncertain terms, to keep a close eye on them both. These were Tommy's orders, though he didn't say why. Having called a truce of sorts, it was much easier to be around Jessica. She flirted with me, but I think that was just who she was. When I ignored it, it wasn't so bad.

  I hadn't seen Dean since my birthday, and not surprisingly, he wouldn't accept my calls. Instead, he would send texts. If I had to take a guess, I assumed it was easier to avoid the reality of my situation if he didn't have to hear how fucked up I was. I'd love to say that his behavior had forced me, in some way, to be a better brother or even man, but it hadn't. I went home after every job and got so fucked up, I'd wake up in the bathtub, fully clothed and soaking wet, not sure how I even got there.

  I was already getting antsy for a hit when my phone finally pinged with a message from Tommy.

  -Walker... No deliveries tonite... pick up Eddie and his slut though... Having a get together. Meet at the club! T-

  I'd been invited to some of their other gatherings in the club before. It had made for a good night when there was fuck all going on. It was normally music, women, and any drug you
could possibly imagine. Those were the nights I stuck to the drugs that I was used to. Heroin, though a seductive mistress, tended to leave me where I couldn't always remember what had happened. Those people paid me to work. I didn’t want to make a complete arse of myself in front of them.

  The resolution was cemented when I picked up Eddie and Jessica at their flat. Jessica was her usual, bubbly self, but Eddie was acting shifty. Paranoia aside, there was something more going on. He huddled into the back seat like his life depended on it, and when I spotted him in the rear view mirror, he was staring at Jessica with a clear level of guilt burning behind his pin-sized pupils.

  "Everything okay, Eddie?"

  "Huh? Oh yeah, man, just tweaking a little."

  "He's been doing that a lot lately," Jessica piped in, looking over her shoulder at him. "I've told him he needs to try something easier for a while, but he's like a little ferret, scurrying around with his tail between his legs."

  "Shut the fuck up, Jess." Eddie groaned, throwing himself back in the seat as I pulled up outside the club. "Don't pretend to know what the fuck’s going on. As long as you have your next fix you don't give a shit, right, baby?"

  It didn’t win the lad many points with Jessica, but he had a point. It didn’t take a lot to understand why she was with him. The fucker was a wiry lad whose facial features were similar to that of a rat, but I wasn’t one to judge. I couldn’t have given a fuck. That was all on them.

  “Fuck you, Eddie. You’re an utter twat.”

  “Only because I get lost in yours, you slut.”

  Point to Eddie. Even if he was going out with her, he wasn’t naive enough to look into it for more than it was. Jessica looked to me, as though I should say something in her defence, but that wasn’t going to happen. I agreed with the guy.

  This gave me only one option. If I didn’t want to be a part of their little domestic, I had to bounce, and as the door to the club opened and the music filtered out, it was exactly what I did.