by L. J. Stock
I left them to it.
The club was a mess of noise as I headed inside. There were people mulling around the place as the rock music filled even the empty spaces. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I looked for someone I knew and finally headed to Tommy when he waved me over from a dark corner.
"Evening, Walker."
"Tommy. What's the special occasion?" I asked, falling into the seat next to him.
"It's a day ending in Y." He laughed, handing me a little pot holding some ecstasy. "Daggs doesn't need a reason to get fucked up. If he's in the mood, that's it."
I took one of the pills and let it dissolve on my tongue, sinking into my seat to wait it out. Daggs only had the best at these little events, and I was happy for the distraction. It calmed my body's incessant nagging for the hit I knew I had waiting at home for me. My escape in a syringe.
"How have things been with those two?" Tommy asked, picking up his beer and taking a mouthful as he nodded to Jess and Eddie, who’d followed me in and proceeded to fight at the bar. Tommy always had drugs on him, but I'd never seen him take anything. From what I understood, his sobriety meant Daggs could get as fucked up as he wanted to without worrying about it.
"Fighting mostly. Eddie has been acting really fucking weird, too."
"Weird how?"
"Paranoid, but more than the usual." I slid down in my seat, putting my feet up on the chair opposite me as the internal warmth started to spread throughout.
"Tell me sommat. Is she ever alone with the drugs, E?"
I swiveled my head slowly, every twitch of the muscle sending little pulses through me. "I have no earthly idea, mate. When I pick them up, Eddie has that bag hugged to his chest. He delivers, gets the money and does the same all the way back here. So not while I'm with them, no, but who the fuck knows what goes on the rest of the time?"
Tommy slapped the shoulder I'd dislocated all those weeks ago and squeezed gently. "You're doing a good job for us, E. I appreciate it."
I gave him a slow smile, but my response, twisting in my head, was never delivered. The door to the club was thrown open, pulling my attention there instead of to the conversation I’d been having. Normally, I think I would have gone back to it, but the girl that had just walked in held my attention. Heels, leather jacket, long dark hair, and a dress with legs that went on for days. She was beautiful and somewhat familiar, but one thing was for fucking sure… She didn't belong in a setting like this one.
"Would you look at that," Tommy said, the smile in his voice evident. He'd obviously noticed what I had about her, and for a fuzzy moment, I wondered if he saw what was beneath it - the innocence, the naivety, and the utter devastation that had left her broken.
I watched her with my ecstasy addled brain, the sense of familiarity almost painful. I couldn’t place her in my memory, and that shit was driving me mad as I sat there. It was only when she turned away that the memory clicked. It wasn’t actually her I remembered. It was her jacket and her friend, who wasn’t there with her but came across clear as you fucking like in my mind's eye.
The blonde. With the Foo’s shirt and Converse. This was her mate.
Tommy and I weren't the only ones that noticed her that night. Daggs’ eyes locked onto the girl the moment she walked in the door. His hunger and possessiveness shone through as she stood there casing the joint before heading to the bar and necking three shots without so much as blinking.
The whole place seemed to hold its breath as she paused before venturing forward and singling Daggs out of the crowd. The moment she took that bottle from his hands, he was lost. She had his full attention.
"Fuck," Tommy growled, throwing himself back in his seat as he watched her take control and start to dance with him.
"What’s up, lad?"
"Another bloody distraction, and not the good kind. I've seen that look before, kid, and nothing good ever comes of it. She just made herself a possession."
Watching the two of them, it wasn't hard to miss the exchange. Daggs had slipped her a little something. It was obvious the moment she pulled back from the kiss, the roll of her jaw more than proving she was working the ecstasy that was already seeping into her system. I kept watching them, my eyes glued to the girl as she swayed her hips and draped herself over him slowly. For a full minute, I actually wondered if her mate knew she was here playing with fire, because she clearly wasn't a part of it. I couldn't imagine this girl walking into Daggs' club alone if she had someone to share the experience with.
"I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," Tommy said on a sigh, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Daggs has women issues. If he wants one bad enough, she becomes his. She becomes his sole fixation. He loses all focus and drive, and it all becomes about her and them."
"What if she wants out?"
Tommy looked at me and back to the girl as her movements became more fluid and exaggerated. She was rolling, and it became all the more obvious as her hands brushed over Daggs' head, rubbing the shiny surface as they kissed like no one was watching.
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, kid."
I pushed back the sinking feeling in my stomach. This wasn't my problem. I didn't know this girl. Yet, there was a part of me that wanted to save her, even if it was just for some connection I’d felt to her friend from a distance almost a year earlier. It was stupid that she was the only other thing I remembered about that day, but my brain and dick remembered Blondie just fine.
Fuck.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the hollow look the brunette had in her eyes reminded me of what I'd seen in the mirror the days after my mum had died. The hopelessness and the need to escape were all too familiar. With the grinding between the two of them, however, it was already too late. There was no saving her.
As it always did when I was on ecstasy, time gradually ceased to matter, as did the stranger girl's sudden conundrum. Tommy left the table to try and get some information about this chick that had taken all of his boss' attention, while I tried my hardest not to pay attention to the two of them, because I knew there was nothing I could do to help her. Instead, I spent most of my time talking about pole dancing with a girl who was sat at the bar. She'd been complaining about being ignored by Daggs who'd invited her there. I, of course, insulted her by calling her a stripper, and she made it abundantly clear that she may have worked a pole but she emphatically did not take her clothes off. Fair enough. It sounded like an interesting concept and one that she was happy to report was quite lucrative.
"Walker." Tommy slid up next to me at the bar and looked the dancer up and down with a smile. "We're taking this party to a house. How many can you fit in your rust bucket?"
"How far we going?"
"Not far."
"As many as I can squeeze in then."
Tommy laughed and disappeared, ushering everyone he could out of the club and into the vehicles. Daggs was lost, his arms holding the brunette to him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. They whispered to one another, acutely unaware that anyone else existed around them. Tommy was less than impressed when his boss straddled the bike behind the slight woman.
I followed Tommy to the party, the lick of light on the horizon making my eyes hurt as the dawn chorus serenaded our small procession. I think I took more ecstasy at some point, but I couldn't remember. Between the partying and flirting with the non-stripping-stripper, it was all a melting pot of feelings and sensations.
The house was just as chaotic as the club had been. There were bodies everywhere. People were fucking without inhibition on every available surface. It was quite a sight when you were rolling, and it was only made real when Jessica and Eddie stormed through the place, still at one another's throats.
There was a soft blanket on the back of the couch that I grabbed and rubbed up against. My hands took in the plush feel as my eyes appeared to process the goings on as free porn. Doors opened and closed around me, the sunlight making me hide under
the super soft blanket, until I just needed some space from the good trip that was slowly starting to go bad.
I needed to splash water on my face and sober up a bit, but some arsehole had emptied their gullet in the kitchen sink, so I was forced to wander to the bathroom on the second floor, which was, of course, occupied.
"How long are you going to be?" I asked the door, my hand tracing the wood grain as I waited for an answer.
"One minute."
As I waited, I toed a lad who, was face down in the middle of the hall, to make sure he was still breathing. His responding grumble was enough proof, so I continued to stroke the door, my mind processing all the little lines in the wood. I barely noticed when the barrier was pulled away from me, because my fingers touched the most delightfully soft hair I'd ever had the pleasure of fondling.
The owner didn't move away. Her eyelashes met her skin as she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch with a quiet moan.
"That feels…"
"Soft," I finished for her, my body instantly responding to the little mewls she emitted.
"No. Good."
Her eyes fluttered open and met mine, her grin flashing as my instincts took over. Between one blink and the next, my lips were on hers, she was in my arms, and I was kicking the door closed behind us.
Then I fucked up royally, mainly because I fucked her without thought of the consequences like the junkie bastard I was. The moment it was over, things got awkward.
"What's your name?" I asked, buttoning up my jeans and eyeing the door for a quick escape.
"Paris. Yours?"
"Ethan."
We stood there as the dust settled, and the shit storm of what I'd just done finally penetrated the high that had been fogging my brain. I'd just fucked Daggs' new girl. This was not going to end well.
"I should probably go," she whispered, sliding from the counter.
"That’s a good idea," I agreed, sounding cold, even to myself.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open and headed out of the room. I prayed to God no one found out about this. I knew better, but it was sex - my dick had done the thinking. What Daggs didn't know wouldn't kill him, but if he found out it would probably kill me.
I'd almost talked myself out of a panic attack when I stepped out of the bathroom and right into Tommy.
"Walker."
"Tommy. I was wondering where you got to, mate," I said, forcing a smile. There was no way in hell he missed Paris coming out of the bathroom before me. You could say a lot of shit about Tommy, but he was loyal, which was apparently more than could be said about me. I felt like shit for what I’d done. I’d broken loyalty to Daggs, and I felt guilty about the lass I was referring to as Blondie, which was fucking ridiculous considering she didn’t even know I existed.
Tommy flashed me a relaxed grin. It was natural and easy. "Got lucky, kid, but hey, you're just the man I was looking for."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Got a favor to ask you."
Leaning against the wall, I pushed my hands in my pockets, bringing my shoulders forward as I nodded. Maybe I was worrying about nothing. He didn't appear to be pissed off or suspicious, or any of the other things I'd feared. He was just being the usual Tommy.
"What can I do for you, mate?"
"We gave Jessica some good shit and told her to go home. Eddie broke up with her or some bollocks, so we sorted her out, but she's refusing to leave. I was hoping you'd get her out of here and make sure she got there alright."
"Eddie broke up with her?"
Tommy grinned. "More she caught him in a compromising position with one of the girls from the club."
Oh, shit. I knew Jessica was going to be in one hell of a mood, but getting out of there sounded like a fucking great idea after what I’d just done. Then again, Jessica and heroin weren't a good combination. The heroin was a seductress temptation, and I couldn't trust Jessica to be around me while I was high like that. That didn't mean I couldn't just drop her arse home. It was the perfect exit plan for me.
"Yeah, mate. I'll get it sorted."
"Good man. She's down in the kitchen, holding a knife to her ex. Figured you could talk her down while you're at it."
"Fucking hell!"
Tommy started laughing, and I did a double take before I realised he was serious. The moment I knew he wasn’t talking out of his arse, I headed to the stairs, descending two at a time and hopping over the last of the bannister for a shortcut to the kitchen. Jessica was exactly where Tommy said she'd be, and poor Eddie was stood stark bollock naked in the corner, both hands over his dick.
"Jessica?" I asked quietly, the amusement in my voice unavoidable.
"What, Walker?"
"Put the fucking knife down, you crazy bitch."
"I caught him balls deep in a slut, E."
God, I actually almost said something I would regret. In all fairness, Jessica was also a slut, and he had fucked her in the past, so I could be forgiven for my confusion. I just had to not piss off the girl who was wielding a knife.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jess, but killing him will just get you prison time. How about I just take you home for now?"
"Oh, I don't want to kill him," she sneered, leaning forward. "I want to chop off his balls and leave him to bleed out and die of shame."
"Tad melodramatic, don't you think? Just put the knife down and I'll take you home."
"I don't fucking want to go home, Ethan. In case you've forgotten, I live with this twat. The last fucking place I want to go is home." She waved the knife around, making Eddie shrink into a crouch, his wide eyes on the sharp point.
"Then let’s go somewhere else. There's a Little Chef just down the road. Let’s get some breakfast, see if you feel better."
"Little Chef... Eth..." I'd managed to distract her. As she turned to look at me, I lunged toward her and grabbed the knife, waving Eddie out of the kitchen and, ultimately, out of sight. The knife I could stop; the slap she gave him? Nothing I could do about that. "You're an absolute cunt, Eddie. I hope your dick falls off, you manky twat."
It was a shitty thing to do, but I started laughing. The scene was like something out of a comedy. The naked junkie scurrying away from the over painted girlfriend, having been caught screwing a Barbie girl who was watching the whole scene go down with a smirk.
"It ain't fucking funny, Ethan."
I put my hands up in surrender. "Its not, but you got a naked man on the run. Look at it from my side."
"Why are men such twats? Anybody?" She narrowed her eyes at me, her hands placed firmly on her hips. "You owe me breakfast now."
"Fine. Whatever. You're a pain in my arse, Jess. Please, let’s go before I change my mind and make you walk home."
"To Little Chef?"
"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" I pointed at the door and rolled my eyes as she skipped past me to the front of the house, leaving me in the kitchen with the boyfriend-stealing Barbie.
"Sister?" she asked with a bored tone.
"Fuck, no. Just doing a friend a favour." I didn't wait for a response, following Jessica out of the house, where she was hopping by the passenger door.
As promised, I took her to breakfast. We had a decent, somewhat sober conversation about life and the shit we'd had to deal with. Rhiannon had cut Jess out of her life, she'd recently moved in with her boyfriend, and she now wanted nothing to do with drugs or the people involved in it. I couldn't say I blamed her after the shit Jessica, and then I, had pulled.
I don't know why I took her back to my house. Maybe it was pity, or genuine worry about her having to go back to that flat while she was still so upset. Whatever the reason was, it was the wrong one.
When I finally convinced her she was sleeping on the couch, I headed to my room, wondering how the hell I was going to get her out of there before Derek and Paul came home. Like me, they weren't particularly fond of Jessica or her propensity for drama. I'd been kind to her, but I wouldn't have called her a friend by any stretch of the imagination.
I'd started to doze when I heard her shuffling down the hall, humming out a song I'd never heard of. I knew the moment she was outside my door. I could see her shadow under the wood as she paced a couple of times in preparation to knock. I didn’t even try to offer up a welcome. I was hoping she would give up and walk away, but she didn’t. She paced a few more times before stopping, her shadow unmoving.
"Ethan?" she said quietly, tapping on my door with her nails. "You still awake?"
"No. Fuck off."
"I can't sleep."
"Not my problem. I'm sleeping just fine. At least I was."
"Tommy gave me some good stuff. Come get high with me."
"Jess!"
"Ethan!" she responded, in exactly the same tone I'd used to say her name.
Flinging the covers off myself, I padded to the door and threw it open, glaring down at her. There was no flirting there, just a hopeful grin, which told me exactly what she was trying to hide. She didn't want to be alone.
She gave me a look, crossed her eyes and grinned, then laughed and clapped her hands before I was even aware I'd answered her with my expression.
"Thank you."
Dropping my shoulders, my eyes rolled as I followed her down the hall, while she practically bounced off the walls. I hated that the temptation was too much for me. I hated that the drugs called my name in that seductive voice I couldn’t ignore. I hated that I always answered it. I was twenty years old and I felt drained and exhausted. The last year of my life had passed without thought, most of it lost in the haze of drugs and disappointments. I didn't know who I was anymore, and I'd successfully pushed away the only people that cared about me. Don't get me wrong, they still cared, but they chose to do it from afar. They refused to watch me destroy myself.
I’d been watching Jess cook the drugs. She was entirely too skilled at what she was doing, and had I been paying attention, I’d like to think it would have made me more cautious. She was a weathered drug user and I was following her down the rabbit hole. My eyes were already heavy with fatigue from being up for almost thirty-six hours. I thought if I took the hit, I could go to bed and sleep through it while Jess tripped off her tits around me.