Black Clouds of Cotton (In Vein Series Book 2)

by C. M. Radcliff

  “What are you getting all dressed up for?” Sloane asks through a cloud of smoke, staring at me in the mirror as she sits behind me. Reaching back into my bag, I pull out my contouring kit and grab the brushes from the jar on my dresser.

  “Ryland asked me if I wanted to go out with him this evening,” I tell her nonchalantly as I apply a subtle shade of blush to my cheeks in an effort to make my face not look as sickly as it does.

  Silence is the response I get and I glance at Sloane in the mirror, staring at me with her mouth agape. Turning on my heel, I raise my eyebrows at her. “What?”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” she asks as she leans forward to hand me the blunt. I take it from her and put my hands back on my dresser, leaning on it as I stare back at her.

  “I mean, shit is what it is, right?” I shrug and lift the blunt back to my lips, inhaling the thick smoke. “You’ve been waiting around for me to move on for months now. It’s time.”

  Sloane purses her lips and her brow furrows slightly. “Are you sure that you’re ready to do all that?”

  “What the fuck else do I have going for me right now?” I snap at her. “I fucking work and lie around like a piece of shit, smoking weed all goddamn day.”

  “Dude, chill the fuck out,” she says, standing up to face me. “I’m not saying anything like that. I just wanna make sure that you’re okay, that you’re really ready to move on from him.”

  I take a deep breath, stubbing the blunt out in the ashtray and collect myself. I’ve felt happier lately, mainly because of the weed and the euphoria from the physical pain. My mind has been as numb as I can get it to be and I’ve managed to keep Ander locked away in the little box that I store his memories inside.

  “I’ve gotta at least try, right?” I ask her quietly, the unwanted pain laced in my words. Swallowing hard over the lump forming in my throat, I push away the feelings and the thoughts of betrayal. He’s not betraying me this time, but I can’t help but feel like I’m betraying him in a way.

  It’s almost as if I’m betraying his memory and the thought of him.

  Sloane offers me a small smile as she rises from the bed. “I fully support you in whatever you wanna do, girl. I got your back no matter what.”

  “Thanks, Sloane.” I smile back at her and reach out for her arm as she walks past me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She grabs my hand and gives it a light squeeze. “Let’s not even think about that. Plus, that’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about. You’ll have to kill me if you wanna get rid of me, and even then, I’ll come back as a ghost and haunt your ass.”

  “Of course you will.” I laugh quietly. “What are you getting into tonight? You want to tag along?”

  “And be the third wheel?” She scoffs. “No thanks.”

  Dropping her hand, I give her shoulder a light shove. “Fuck you, it’s not a date. We’re just going as friends to get some food.” Not that I’ll be eating any of it.

  “I have plans anyway,” she says with a smirk. “And before you go ahead and give me the third degree, it’s nothing serious. We’re just hanging out and shit and have a no-strings-attached thing going on.”

  “Let me guess.” I tilt my head to the side, cocking an eyebrow at her. “It’s Troy, isn’t it?”

  Sloane bites her bottom lip, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

  “Just be careful with him, okay?” I tell her lightly, keeping the warning in my voice subtle. “Troy’s a good guy, but I don’t know what all he’s wrapped up in.”

  “Trust me, girl, I’ll be fine,” she says with a wink before her expression grows darker. “You need to be careful with Ryland. Make sure you make shit clear with him from the starting gate. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but he really likes you and I don’t wanna see him get hurt.”

  A sigh escapes my lips and I nod. “He knows that we’re just friends and that’s all it will ever be.”

  My phone chimes from the side of my dresser next to my door as a message comes through. Sloane picks it up to hand it to me and being the nosy bitch that she is, she reads it first. She frowns slightly as she gives it to me, and I glance down at the message.

  Ryland: I can’t wait to see you tonight ;)

  My breath catches in my throat in an unpleasant way as my stomach drops. I look back up at Sloane, catching her staring at me. “Are you sure about that?”

  Shit.

  I thought I made it clear to him, but maybe he didn’t fully understand what I meant. I need to set the record straight with him tonight when I see him.

  Or I can always just roll with it and see where things go... maybe things wouldn’t be so bad with him. He could be good for me. He could be better for me... but he’ll never be everything that I need.

  12

  Ander

  Anya is fucking pregnant.

  I try to wrap my head around the words. Even though I had hoped that she would have been more careful, she’s never been one to proceed with much caution. Then again, none of us really do. We’re all stuck in the same mindset of an addict. She was selling her pussy and every other hole for cash to get drugs. Drugs were always the endgame and condoms were probably just an afterthought with some of these men.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask her as the frustration boils inside. “You can’t fucking keep it.”

  “I can and I’m going to,” she bites back, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

  My jaw clenches instantly and my hands ball into tight fists at my side. Anya’s as deep into her addiction as I am in mine. An addict can’t have a baby unless she wants it to come out fucking addicted too.

  “What the fuck are you going to do with a baby, Anya?” I bark at her, unable to contain the rage that’s now full-fledged. “You gonna teach it how to shoot up, too? Take it along and put it in the back seat of the car while you’re fucking dudes to get paid?”

  “FUCK YOU, ANDER!” she screams, shoving me backward. “I’m going to stop using and get my shit together. Maybe this baby is what I need to finally get my life on track.”

  Releasing my clenched fists, I run my hands over the top of my head in utter frustration. “Fuck this.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Good fucking luck with all of that. You’re going to do nothing but take that baby down with you, if it even survives.”

  Turning on my heel, I stumble as I walk away from her down the alleyway, heading in the opposite direction. Her heels click on the cracked concrete of the sidewalk as she follows after me. “Ander, wait!”

  Spinning back around, the buildings around me spin too. My hand darts out and I steady myself against the wall as the wave of dizziness subsides. Anya reaches my side and grabs my arm. Looking over at her, I stare at her bloodshot eyes as the tears stream down the sides of her face.

  “I need your help with this.” She sobs quietly. “I can’t do this shit alone, Ander.”

  What the fuck.

  This isn’t my goddamn baby or my problem, yet I can’t help but feel the guilt setting in. She’s begging me for something that I don’t know that I can give her.

  “What am I supposed to do, Anya? Help you raise a fucking baby?” I slap my hand against the wall. “There is no place for a child in my life right now.”

  “I know,” she whispers. “I don’t expect you to get clean, I just need your help for me to get clean.”

  “So, go to goddamn rehab,” I snap at her. “Go get some real fucking help.”

  Anya shakes her head. “I don’t need to go to rehab. I just need you to come home.”

  Home.

  I laugh loudly to myself. I haven’t truly felt like I’ve been home since I left Hadley.

  “Please, Ander,” she begs, her eyes rapidly bouncing back and forth between mine. She has me trapped and she knows it. I have nowhere to go, no money, no drugs. I don’t even have any clothes but the ones on my back. If I go back with her, we both benefit from it. I stare back at her, knowing that her
mind is already made up.

  It’s not my baby, but can I really trust her to bring a child into this world and not completely fuck it up? I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to help her when I can’t even help myself, but there’s a baby involved now. If I can do anything to help it survive, even if it means calling child services on her after it’s born, I have to do something.

  I could never forgive myself if I contributed to her fucking up this kid by not helping her when she’s practically on her knees begging me.

  “Fine,” I tell her after a moment. “I’ll come back, but only if you’re really going to get clean and do this the right way.”

  Anya lets out a loud sob and nods quickly. “I’m going to do this, Ander.”

  “Let’s go then,” I tell her, turning her back down the other way of the alley. We talk together back toward the street. “Don’t fuck this up.”

  “I have a plan,” she says quietly with a small smile on her face.

  I’m sure she fucking doesn’t.

  I scratch at the back of my neck, feeling a cluster of emotions wash over me and the anxiety sets in. It’s only a matter of time before the alcohol wears off completely and I’m thrown back into withdrawal.

  Anya frowns slightly. “I got you when we get back to the house.”

  My jaw clenches and I pinch the bridge of my nose as we continue to walk. My body screams for the heroin that it craves. I pick up the pace, knowing that the sooner we get back to the house, the sooner I can be at peace. After the bomb she dropped, I need to get high to deal with this shit.

  I need to get high to stay alive.

  13

  Hadley

  Sitting across from Ryland at a table at a local Italian restaurant, I move my salad around my plate with my fork. I’ve barely touched it at all, but he hasn’t noticed. Setting my fork down, I drain the rest of my second glass of wine. The weed wore off not long before we got here and the confidence I had been feeling had started to dwindle until Ryland ordered us both something to drink.

  He comes from money and is a regular here with his family, so no one questioned serving two underage college kids a drink with dinner. The flame burning on the candle in the center of the table flickers and I watch the way it dances while Ryland talks about his plans for the future. I made sure to direct the attention anywhere but to myself and he took the reins with any conversation we had.

  Although it was more one-sided, listening to him drone on and on about himself. The more I stare at the candle with his voice in the background, the more and more this feels like a date. I should have said something before we even got here, but I didn’t. And I still haven’t uttered a word in regards to it.

  “Hadley?” Ryland’s voice breaks through my trance. I tear my gaze away from the flame and look up at him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lie through my teeth with a fake smile.

  “You’ve barely touched your food.” He pauses, his brow furrows. “If something’s wrong with it, we can send it back.”

  So, he did notice after all.

  “No, that’s not necessary.” I shake my head, letting the lies flow effortlessly from my lips. “I had a late lunch, so I’m just not that hungry.”

  Ryland nods in understanding as a smile replaces the frown on his face. We sit in silence as he finishes his plate of pasta and I continue to push the leaves of lettuce around on mine. Our server comes back around, refilling our glasses and Ryland asks for the check.

  I’ve been so detached this entire time, a wave of guilt passes through me. Ryland doesn’t deserve this. He deserves my attention, for me to listen to him while he talks. I can’t help but feel as though our conversation is so mundane and insignificant in the big picture of life. Without even thinking about Ander, I’m still subconsciously caught up.

  I need to stop comparing him to Ander.

  Ryland pays our bill after turning down my offer to pay for my half. “Did you want me to take you home or we could do something else?” He pauses and his cheeks grow flush. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready for the night to be over.”

  I stare back at him, not knowing what to say. Am I ready for the night to be over? The wine warms my body and I can feel the buzz that I’ve been working on finally kicking in. Ryland thinks this is a date and I didn’t want that to happen, but he’s a distraction.

  “Do you wanna come back to my place and watch a movie or something?”

  He wants to be my distraction.

  Ryland’s face lights up instantly and his smile touches his eyes. “That sounds like a perfect idea.”

  Deep inside, in the back of my mind, I can already feel the regret creeping in, but fuck it.

  What do I have to lose?

  We get back to my apartment and it’s empty. Ryland makes himself at home on the couch as I fetch us something to drink. I grab a bottle of vodka from the freezer and two glasses. Might as well keep the liquid courage that I have right now going. I walk back into the living room as Ryland surfs through the menu on the TV looking for a movie to watch. After pouring us each a glass, I settle down on the couch, putting some distance between us.

  Sloane and Troy must have gone out, but a part of me wishes that I weren’t alone here with Ryland. I’m surprised to see that they aren’t here right now. They’ve been hanging out, but that’s essentially been the extent of it. They don’t date or go out, they chill at the house and fuck. I don’t judge them, they can do whatever they please. I just know how guys are that are like Troy and the last thing I want to see Sloane do is catch some feelings and have him hurt her.

  I grab a blanket from the back of the couch and pull it over my lap as I tuck my feet beneath me. Ryland glances over at me with a grin as he picks some comedy movie and puts it on. We sit quietly as we watch, but the more we drink, the more the silence begins to dissipate.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom quick.” Ryland stands, swaying a bit as he begins to laugh. I pause the movie, laughing with him as he catches his balance on the arm of the couch. “If I’m not back in a minute, you better not leave me for dead in there.”

  “I can’t make any promises!” I call after him as he laughs his way out of the room. Settling deeper into the couch, I rest my head on the back cushion and close my eyes. I know it’s just the alcohol talking, but things are so easy with Ryland. I’m actually enjoying myself with him and for once my mind has been quiet.

  Ryland comes out of the bathroom and walks back over to the couch. Lifting my head, I open my eyes just as he drops down onto the cushion right next to me. He lazily throws his arm across the back of the couch. My entire body tenses as his skin brushes the nape of my neck. Ryland takes the remote from my hand and resumes the movie without a single word.

  I should have told him from the start that this isn’t a date, because it’s really starting to feel more and more like one.

  The drunken parts of my mind tell my logical brain to shut the fuck up and I involuntarily relax on the couch, settle deeper into the cushions. Ryland’s arm slowly slides down until it’s resting across my shoulders. I ease into his touch, reveling in his warmth. He feels nothing like Ander, he smells nothing like Ander.

  He isn’t Ander.

  Neither of us makes another move as we finish the movie, remaining in the same spot, with his arm wrapped around me as the credits begin to come on. I feel his eyes on me before I look at him and when I do, I catch him staring at me in a drunken haze. Ryland’s lips curl upward into a sad smile as he reaches over, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Who hurt you, Hadley?” he asks me quietly as his tone envelops me within its warmth. “Who stole the light from your beautiful soul?”

  The air leaves my lungs in a rush and I swallow hard over the lump forming in my throat. My jaw clenches as I stare back at him with my eyes wide. I’m overcome with an agonizing ache deep within my chest and my vision grows fuzzy with the pain as it washes over me. I blink rapidly attempting to push aw
ay the tears as they threaten to spill out.

  Ryland gently cups the side of my face and the soft palm of his hand warms my skin. A silent tear falls from my eye, but he catches it with the pad of his thumb as it streaks down my cheek. I inhale sharply from his touch as I struggle to decipher what I’m feeling. The alcohol still runs strong in my system and it has me mentally fucked-up, I don’t know which way is up or down right now.

  None of this feels right, it’s all foreign, but I can’t keep comparing him to a ghost.

  “He doesn’t deserve your tears,” Ryland whispers as he leans closer with his lips just barely brushing against mine. “Let me take your pain away.”

  He pulls back for a second and his eyes bounce back and forth between mine looking for some type of approval. Instead of taking advantage of a drunk girl that he has a crush on, he’s looking for my consent. He wants to know that I’m okay with this before he takes what he wants.

  “Make me forget him,” I whisper as another tear streams down the side of my face. Ryland’s mouth crashes into mine and I choke back a sob as I close my eyes. He kisses me softly, with a tenderness that’s unexpected. His lips play a new melody against mine and I let myself get lost in the notes. I feel his hand as it dives into my hair and he holds me close. Lost in his touch, I let him consume me, but it’s only my body that he consumes.

  With my eyes closed, the only thing that I completely lose myself in is the oceanic depths of Ander’s memory.

  A loud bang echoes throughout the apartment. “Hadley!” Sloane yells my name as she walks inside. In a rush, I pull away from Ryland and jump off the couch onto unsteady feet. The entire room spins and I’m dizzy from my drunken stupidity. “Oh, shit,” she says quietly as she reads the room when she enters the living room with Troy’s arm wrapped around her waist.