“Ah, I see.” I watch his eyes grow with excitement. “What’s your poison?” He leans into me while pulling something out of both pockets. In his right hand sits a small bag of powder, probably cocaine. My eyes trail to his right hand where the orange prescription bottle sits, and I know he sees my eyes widen. I couldn’t stop them if I really wanted to.
“What’s in it?” I nod to the bottle.
“Why don’t you tell me what it is you want?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Then we’ll both get what we’re looking for.” He smirks, fully aware that what I am insinuating about what would be worth it for me. I just shake my head, wanting to somehow maintain a little bit of control, a small amount of power. “There’s some Addies, Xanax, Valium, Oxy, and some Ultras.” I’m sure my eyes light up at the last two and he smiles. “Baby Girl—”
I feel my face drop instantly as I look at him serious and shake my head. “Don’t call me that!” It comes out more abrasive than I intend for it to but he just holds his hands up.
“Okay, got it.” My outburst doesn’t even really seem to faze him, though, he just continues to talk. “You can have whatever you want, after. We do need to hurry; I have to be back soon.”
“Okay.” I whisper, nodding my head and smiling as he turns me around with his hand still on my hip, causing his arm to come around my back, pulling me into his side, as he walks me away from the crowd.
Am I a huge fan of using my body to get what I want? Not exactly. But why does it even fucking matter? Men have always just taken what the they want, anyways. Might as well use that shit to get something out of it for myself.
He moves me around the corner, “My car’s right there.” He whispers into my ear, pointing to the end of the street. I know, he’s a fucking creep. I’m aware of the situation I’m putting myself into, but what does it matter. Either I get what I want, or he kills me. Either way, it will make the pain stop.
I should be concerned about how dark my thoughts have become.
His hand falls from my hip as a low thud sounds behind me. A hand grabs ahold of my arm, spinning me around to see Ro, eyes fuming, blood splattered on his face, his eyes nearly completely black now.
“That was dramatic.” I roll my eyes at him, attempting to seem unfazed by his over-reaction as I look to where the man lies next to the wall, head bleeding. It’s obvious that Ro just slammed his head into the wall and dropped him on the ground, leaving him there. I should probably be more concerned about what just happened to him because of me or about how everything Ro does manages to make him more attractive to me.
He grips my face, hard, as he steps to me, forcing me up on my toes to look at him. “I told you, one more fucking time.” He says it so low, but so assertive that it causes a slight fear to begin to crawl up my body.Hello, old lover.
“I was just talking with him.” I whisper, trying to sound convincing.
“Don’t lie to me, Sadie.” He snarls at me. “You want to head off with the biggest dealer here and pretend like you were just talking and that you weren’t going to fuck him for drugs. You want to be a junkie whore—”
The smack echoes down the empty street before I realize that my hand is stinging.
His eyes darken even more, and he drops his hand before pushing me down against the hood of the car at our side, his hand tightly gripping around my throat as he holds me to the car with it, he’s standing between my legs, and bracing all of his weight on me. “You don’t like being called a junkie whore? Then stop fucking acting like one. Have a nice life, what’s left of it, anyway.”
His chest is heaving just as mine is and I know that it’s messed up, but as much as I try and convince myself that I don’t want to, this position, his words, his demeanor, makes me want to screw him right here. His hardening cock and the fact that it means this turns him on just as much as it does me, makes those images harder to shove out of my mind. His eyes still filled with rage… or passion. I’m not really sure which. But really they’re not that much different from one another.
Then the weight is gone.
I’m left alone on the hood of the car, no crushing body weight, no hard cock against my core. Just loneliness. Turning my head, I watch as he rounds the corner without so much as a glance backwards.
The sinking of my heart reminds me of the ache that’s just below the surface inside. Glancing around, I move across the sidewalk to where the limp body lies, I don’t want to do it, I want to chase after Ro and apologize, to not stop talking until he forgives me, but the nagging in my brain keeps me from doing so. I shuffle through the dealers pockets until I find it. The small pill bottle. Popping the lid on it I look in. There’s white round tablets. Shaking them out into my hand I look hard at the surface and see the GPI A5 engraved into it, glancing at the majority of them.
Motherfucker has nothing but generic-ass Tylenol.
How do I know that’s Tylenol? J had a great idea to try to pass it as some other shit. Had me sort through some of the tabs, reading all the engravings.
It’s really a wonder why J hasn’t been killed already. I’m sure if it wasn’t for the club he would be.
I take a handful of the Tylenol to try and numb myself until I’m able to get my hands on my stash again. I didn’t realize we were leaving the clubhouse earlier or I would have stashed one.
?
RO
It’s late when the final race ends. After Tally and I talk about the total, I turn to walk towards where my bike is parked.
Kyle came back over to the crowd sometime later, head still bleeding and confused. He still had no clue what happened or who had done it, and I haven’t seen Sadie since.
