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Fuck it. If I wake up tomorrow needing a hit, then I’ll know this is something I can’t partake in any longer. Thankfully, I’m only addicted to inner substances like adrenaline and not outer influences.
“Atta boy.” Spencer grins, his eyes watching hungrily as the pill enters my system. The trail it takes burns some, but in no time, euphoria explodes through my senses and I have to sit back in my seat to absorb the wave. “Yeah, exactly.”
Every worry I’ve ever had seems so minuscule under this influence and I let myself enjoy it. Not like I’d really have a choice, anyway. This cruel mistress is having her way with me regardless, but I’m not complaining.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
TRACE
We satin my car and listened to a few songs as the peak of my high cycled through my body. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I wanted to make sure I favored it before I went into public with it. Now we’re chilling at the pool tables with Kydd and Koen. They both took a bump of something that seemed to have a different effect than what Spencer gave me. They’re pretty hyped, so I’m guessing maybe coke. From the looks of it, that’s not something I want to try.
I would do the percs again, though. This shit is nice. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. Almost blissful. Spencer keeps giving me a knowing grin when he finds me staring off into space and forgetting to take my shot.
“What the fuck has he got you on, newbie?” Kydd nudges me with his elbow when I’ve gotten lost in blissful thoughts about Lennox, missing watching her on a bike. Thinking about her right now doesn’t make me feel sad, just like something is missing. Well, she’s missing, so I guess there’s that. It does bring me to think of the girls in the pictures and I want to ask Kydd and Koen how it went, but I don’t. They don’t need to think that I’m all up in their business. One day, gang business will be my business.
“Just the usuals, but he’s a virgin.”
“No shit.” Kydd beams a wicked smile in my direction as he steps in front of me and waves his hand in my face. I swat it away. “Don’t dabble?”
“Prefer to torture my liver.”
“Then we shall get some drinks. My treat.”
“Are you even old enough?” I call after him and Kydd turns around with a playful glare.
“We pretty much get anything we want while we’re here.” Spencer leans over the felt and takes his shot, slamming the eight ball into the pocket he chose. Pool isn’t something I’m good at, sober or high. “You really suck at this. Good thing you’re good at drifting, right?”
“Yeah, good thing.” I chuckle and toss my stick at him so he can put it up on the wall with the others. Spencer does just that, then turns to give me his attention once again, but he grimaces. That’s never good. He’s looking over my shoulder in the door's direction. His giant palm cups the top of my head and he forces me to turn around.
B. Gibbs is brooding his way through the door.Great. Just what I need for tonight. My heart lurches in my chest at the sight of him, though. He doesn’t look good at all. His skin is pale. He’s lost weight and muscle mass. Normally his bronze hair is shorn tight on the sides and long and curly on top, but it’s sort of a mop right now. Not really a style and not him at all. The preppy style I know on him is gone in favor of ripped jeans, a black hoodie, and a skintight t-shirt. He’s even got boots on his feet. Something I’ve never seen before.
Dark circles bruise the underside of his eyes and they’re rimmed in red, as if he’s been emotional. I want to go to him, pull him into me and tell him everything is going to be okay. But I can’t because we aren’t those people anymore. We haven’t spoken in weeks.
But it’s clear the weight of the world is on his shoulders and I regret telling him it’s his fault, no matter how I truly feel. He didn’t need to hear those words. However, him putting his hands on me is not cool. I still have the shapes of the faded bruises on my cheeks and jaw. My fists pulse at the thought of it. Not only did he beat the shit out of me, but when I was too fucking drunk to defend myself. Who does that?
Someone who’s hurting.
“Let’s get out of here.” I turn to make my way toward the back door, but Spencer puts a hand to my chest to stop me. He focuses on my face, probably seeing the heaping of hurt that seeing my ex-best friend has brought on. Not giving a shit that he is two times my size, I ring his wrist with my fingers and clamp down. He doesn’t budge, but he smirks.
“He’s like your brother, man. You can’t let anything go unsaid. I’m not sure what happened between the two of you to cause you to fight like you did. I can only speculate. I am going to sound totally cliche with the bullshit that is about to come out of my mouth now, but dude, life is too fucking short, even if you’re not a Hellion. But for us, the end can always be just around the corner and good relationships are scarce. Don’t let that one go to the wayside.”
“He put his fucking hands on me.” It sounds like bullshit when I say it. Especially talking to someone who has killed people before, but it’s my truth and where I’m at. I know Benny won’t approve of my life choices right now and that’s not something I want to deal with. I’ve been fighting for everyone’s approval for so damn long that I’m tired.
“And? You were both angry and hurting.”
“He beat me when I was essentially defenseless.” God, my arguments are pathetic.
“You ignored him when his girl was taken… I don’t mean to be harsh, but he needed you, Johnson, and you let him down.” I’ve known that. But letting people down is typical of me. I let everyone in my life down, but hearing the words is like a knife to the gut and the asshole wielding it is doing their best to rip me wide open.
“Why are you fighting this so hard? You have nothing to do with either of us. You don’t even know him.” My statement makes his shoulders sag as if I struck a nerve. This isn’t like Spencer. He’s wise for his twenty-five years, but he remains mostly sarcastic. Probably because he’s using it to shield himself and keep walls up. I know because I have my ways of keeping people out as well. Benny has always broken down those walls.
“Let’s go get a drink and talk.” I don’t really want to, but I think Spencer might need this.
“Okay, fine, but in the fucking back so I can’t see him, yeah?”
“You’re pitiful. But sure.” We stop at the bar to get our drinks. I’m in desperate need of this drink. My high has left me and my palms are starting to sweat with the need to fill them with a bottle.
Maybe I have more of an alcohol problem than I tell myself I do.
