Sweetened Suffering (Sweet Treats Book 2)

by Charity B.

  Refraining from throwing the phone against the wall, I shut it off and toss it in the box before kicking it into the closet.

  I jog down the steps to remedy my empty bottle situation, and see the fur ball standing with her paws against the glass door, waiting to come inside. Fuck that little critter. I turn back to the kitchen and she barks before she whines, as if she’s being tortured. I shake my head. and open the liquor cabinet. She doesn’t let up, so for my own sanity, I relent and let her inside.

  “You’re lucky I’m already too drunk to take you anywhere today.” She follows me inside, tail wagging and proud as hell of herself. “Yeah, you won this round.”

  I take my fresh bottle of bourbon and sit on the new couch Cara Jo bought last week to replace the one Tavin bled all over. Blind Mag jumps up, curling her body next to mine and I scoff at her.

  Whatever.

  Monday, June 8th

  MY BODY ACHES AS I pull open my bedroom door and almost run into Cara Jo, smiling, in the hall. “Good morning, Alex. Is Tavin still asleep?”

  My face heats up as I snap, “Her name is now off limits. Say it again and you’re fired.”

  I know it isn’t fair to treat her that way. I also know I can’t bring myself to explain what’s happened, so I suppose I’m being a coward and taking the easy way out. She backs away and gives me a look I can’t identify, before disappearing into the bathroom.

  After I hit the bag and force down a few bites of my omelet, I take a couple whiskey shots before getting dressed.

  Cara Jo avoids me for the rest of the morning, and not even Kurt Cobain can comfort me as I make my way through morning traffic. All I want is to get in my office and submerge myself in work.

  Walking through the Vulture lobby, I wear a plastic smile until I get into the elevator. My cheeks puff out with my sigh as I press the button, and irony can kiss my ass because right as the doors are about to close, Eric slithers inside like the snake he is.

  “Good morning, Mr. Sørensen.”

  “Hello, Eric. I actually wanted to speak with you.” Any promise I made to her in the past means nothing now. Turning to face him with a clenched jaw, I remind myself to try and remain professional. “Tavin Winters is not to be inside this building. If you bring her here again, I will terminate your position with Vulture Theaters.”

  His eyes are about to pop out of his head as his posture turns as stiff as a corpse. “What?”

  “Tavin. Sweet Girl. Whoever the fuck she is.” He sways as if he’s going to pass out and I kind of hope he does. “Have your ‘playdates’ with her somewhere else.” I face forward and will admit I’m enjoying his obvious panic. “I am curious though, how much do you pay for her?”

  “Uh—s—seven an hour.”

  “Grand?!” I knew she was expensive, but Jesus Christ. He nods as I straighten my jacket. “Your job is on extremely thin ice. Do not schedule her during business hours and do not mention her name in this office.”

  “I understand, sir, and I won’t. She’s out of stock anyway.” His mouth twitches and he’s clearly kicking himself internally for that last bit.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he releases a nervous laugh. “She isn’t available.”

  ‘Out of stock’? She isn’t a fucking pair of shoes. I shake my head as the elevator doors open, and when I step out, I add, “Check again, I’m sure she’s back ‘in stock’ by now.”

  I may have allowed myself to go a little overboard with the bourbon, so by the time lunch rolls around, I could really use some fresh air. After locking my office door, I turn around and nearly knock Silas over on my way to the elevator.

  “Hey, Slilas.” Damn it, I’m slurring.

  “Oh my God, are you…” He examines my face a little closer and glares. “Are you drunk?” He reaches for my trouser pocket. “What the hell, Sørensen? Give me your phone.”

  I back away from him and walk toward the elevator. “I’m fine.” Somehow, my foot gets caught on the carpet and I stumble forward.

  “Clearly,” he deadpans as I push the button. “What’s going on? Why are you wasted at twelve thirty on a Monday? Pretty sure that’s grounds for A.A.”

  The doors open, and as I walk inside, I sigh and lean against the wall. Following me, he crosses his arms and awaits my response.

  “I walked in on Tavin with someone.”

  “Wait, what?” He scoffs as he yanks out his phone. “That bitch. I’ll call you a car.”

  “I’m fine, Silas, really. I’ve missed too much lately and it’ll look bad.”

  “Yeah, and being more trashed than a freshman girl during Greek week is much better.” He shakes his head and rubs his right temple. “Oh, God, this is starting to feel a lot like Carrie. You can’t let this affect Vulture, Alex. It’s okay to fall man, but do you have to do it so damn hard? These sluts aren’t worth it.”

  As angry as I am with her, I still don’t see her that way. “Silas, don’t call her that.”

  He rolls his eyes as he leads me outside and waits with me for the car. When the driver pulls up, Silas opens the door and I fall into the backseat. He rests a hand on the hood as he leans down and hands me a joint.

  “I’m sorry, I know you really liked her and I do understand how that feels.” He doesn’t though. He’s never been in love with anyone. “I’m also gonna need you to suck it up at work alright? What was that crazy thing your mom used to say? You know, when she wanted you to get your shit together?”

  “Skjerp deg.”

  “Sk—Yeah, that.”

  I smile and pull on my seat belt. “Thanks, Silas.”

  He shrugs as he straightens and shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are best friends for, right?”

  Cara Jo glares at me as I stumble my way into the kitchen and grab the bourbon off the island.

  She wraps her hand around my wrist and holds it tight. “You’ve clearly had enough.”

  I jerk my arm free and back away from her. “I hired you to clean my house and cook for me, not to tell me how much you think I should drink.” She flinches and turns back toward the sink. When I get to the stairs, Blind Mag is sitting at the top. “And get rid of this fucking dog.”

  I know I’m being an asshole. I don’t even know why I’m treating her this way. She doesn’t deserve it.

  There’s no response and when I turn back to apologize, she’s gone. I groan and climb the steps. She’s never been anything besides supportive of me my entire life. Most times she was more of a mother than my real one was.

  Twenty-two years ago…

  “Mom, look!”

  I try not to crinkle the paper as I run outside. Since my mom is the prettiest lady in all of Shadoebox City, and probably even the world, I wrote a story all about her. I really hope she likes it. I’ve been working on it for three days.

  My feet stay on the pathway because we aren’t allowed to walk on the grass.

  She’s smiling in the garden with her friends drinking her ‘adult drink’. She and my dad say I’m not old enough, but I tasted some once and it was so gross, I hope I never get old enough for it.

  Her laugh makes me grin as I shove my story in her lap. “I wrote this for you! Will you read it?”

  She doesn’t seem happy with me as she laughs like she does when she is uncomfortable.

  “Alexander, can’t you see that I have company? It’s rude to interrupt, now apologize.”

  Isn’t she even going to look at it? It’s so embarrassing to get in trouble in front of these ladies.

  I don’t look down even though I want to. Dad says it’s important to always look people in the eye.

  “I’m sorry, ma’ams.”

  I won’t cry because Dad says boys don’t do that. I’m so angry because she didn’t even look at it! I worked hard on that!

  The door slams behind me as I walk back inside and I stomp across the kitchen towards my room.

  “Hey, young man, get over here right
now.” I roll my eyes, even though I hide it so Cara Jo can’t see me. “Why are you slamming doors? That is no way for a gentleman to act.”

  “Because I’m mad at Mother.”

  She bends over in front of me and puts her hand on my arm. “Well, Mr. Grumpy, you can get glad in the same pants you got mad in. Today, I’m letting you and your sister decide where we go.”

  My stomach does the somersaults it always does when I get excited. “We can choose anything?”

  “As long as it’s in Shadoebox.”

  I know I’m smiling even though I’m still upset with my mom. Wrapping my arms around her neck, I rest my head on her shoulder. “Thank you, Cara Jo.”

  Mmm, she gives the best hugs.

  “Alex!” We push apart at the sound of Sasha’s enthusiastic voice, as she runs into the kitchen carrying one of her weird outfit creations. “Look at what I made! Aren’t they bitchin’?”

  Cara Jo’s mouth drops open and her eyebrows do that thing where they scrunch together. I always wonder if she gets mad enough, if they will touch. “Sasha Sørensen! Foul language is not allowed, and I know you know that.”

  She covers her mouth. “Sorry, Cara Jo.” The metal of the hangers clank together as she pulls them apart. “Check these out.”

  Sasha makes me laugh. She’s so crazy with her ‘fashion’ design and trying to talk the way they do on Beverly Hills 90210. She holds up two shirts and I instantly cringe because I know the striped one with the drawn-on collar is for me.

  Even Cara Jo can barely contain her smile. “Oh, well those are…lovely dear.”

  Sasha has a huge grin. She’s so proud of these ugly things.

  Cara Jo says sometimes people lie to make others feel better and that’s okay. I think this is one of those times. “Yeah, they’re, uh, great. Good job, Sasha.”

  “Thank you.” She hangs the shirts on the chair and walks to the fridge for some grapes. “What are we doing today, Cara Jo?” Those grapes look good. I take a few of them out of her hand, and even though she pushes me, I still get to shove a handful into my mouth. “Hey, get your own!”

  I swallow and laugh at her scowl. “She said we can pick.”

  Cara Jo dries off the sink before untying her apron. “So, what do you two think?”

  I know exactly where I want to go and as soon as I look at Sash, I know she wants to go, too.

  “The Walk!”

  We point at each other. “Jinx!”

  Cara Jo chuckles, “Well, I suppose that’s decided.”

  I’m going to play at the arcade, and get some saltwater taffy, and look at the toy store! There is so much stuff to do at the boardwalk.

  “Oh, Alexander! We can wear the shirts I made!” Sasha squeals and claps her hands.

  No way, no way. I’ll look like an idiot. I feel my head shaking and when I look at Cara Jo, her facial expression tells me I’m going to be wearing that terrible shirt in a few minutes. I better act like I love it, too. I just don’t understand why they have to match. Is looking alike not enough?

  I try my last chance at saving myself the embarrassment and give Cara Jo my best begging face. Her raised eyebrow is my answer.

  “Greeaat.”

  Sasha shoves the shirt against my chest. “Hurry and get dressed!”

  I groan as she sprints out of the kitchen. Cara Jo wraps her arms around me from behind and kisses the top of my head. “You are a good boy, Alexander.”

  I pull off my jacket as I walk into my room and lie back on my bed. I must fall asleep immediately because that’s the last thing I remember when I wake. My clock says it’s after eight and Cara Jo is gone when I go downstairs. She left me dinner in the oven, but eating doesn’t sound that appealing at the moment.

  Blind Mag is sitting on the couch and her ears perk up as I walk by. When is this dog going to be gone? I ignore her and get a beer before running back upstairs to shower. The thought of sitting here getting wasted by myself again, is unbearable, so I get dressed and grab my keys.

  The Necco Room isn’t a possibility right now, so I pick somewhere random. Ichiban, I think it’s called. I sit up at the bar so I can get the quickest service and enjoy the fact that I don’t have a single memory of Tavin here.

  I’m drinking from my freshly filled glass when a short blonde scoots onto the seat next to me. I smile at her and she instantly returns it. I wonder if she will help. If I bury myself deep enough inside of her, will it numb this ache?

  Pointing to her mostly empty martini glass, I ask, “Would you like another drink?”

  She bites her lip and nods while I hold up my hand for the bartender.

  We talk for a while. Well, she talks, but I can’t tell you, for the life of me, about what. And I’m really trying. I’m not sure why it’s so difficult to focus.

  “Do you want to go?”

  I snap out of my daze. “I’m sorry?”

  “You know…somewhere more private?”

  My head nods before I can consider declining. She grabs my hand and I follow her. God, why am I doing this? I mean, sure she’s attractive, but I’m not into her at all. She leads me down the hallway, and I almost tell her to stop. Between the unreasonable guilt and the lack of desire for this girl, I don’t think I can go through with it. It’s not like I’m gonna ever call her.

  I’ve always assumed the girls I’ve hooked up with were using me too, but what if I was wrong and trying to ease my own conscience? This girl could be sad or lonely, desperate for some kind of intimacy, and I’ll be just one more guy that uses her and throws her away. Is that really the man I want to be?

  The door of the club slams behind us as she pushes me against the wall in the alleyway. She kisses up my neck and her nails scratch my stomach as she slips her hand into my jeans. My body is having no problem enjoying itself and currently winning in the battle against my brain. A moan leaves my mouth before I can stop it. The hand that’s stroking me is picking up pace and the longer I let this go on, the worse it’s going to be.

  She pulls my dick out. “Would you like me to suck your cock, Alex?”

  No, actually I wouldn’t. I just want to go home. I can’t believe I’m going to decline this offer. As soon as I talk myself into stopping her, something moves in the alley, making us both jump as she whispers, “What was that?”

  Whatever it was, I’m grateful for it and exactly what I need.

  “Brooklyn, look, I—”

  “It’s Brailyn.”

  “Right, sorry…Brailyn. I’m gonna go ahead and call it a night.” Even in the bad light, I can see I hurt her feelings. “Trust me, it’s not you, you’re… hot, I just have a lot going on and shouldn’t be here.”

  She nods with a confused smile. “Oh…okay…well, it was, uh, nice to meet you?”

  “Likewise.”

  This is incredibly awkward. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to shake her hand or hug her or what, so I opt for patting her on the head like she’s a damn poodle. I shake my head at my idiocy and walk back into the club.

  I can’t believe I just turned down head.

  This place smells like sex and piss, and the wig Sasha got me itches horribly. I scratch as the blaring music and flashing lights start to give me a headache. I guess I better get used to it though, if I want to work here. I’m nervous and it’s making me feel kind of sick. I’ve never tried to get a job before. Shaking out my hands, I take a deep breath.

  First things first, I need a boost.

  The girl icon is on the bathroom door to my right so I slip inside and go into the first stall. I pull the little baggie Toben gave me from my back pocket and hold it up. Dang it. I’m already getting low. Sprinkling some on my hand, I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply.

  Ahhh, there it is. That’s better.

  Toben heard the club owner here won’t ask questions if I tell him I don’t have valid identification. If he likes me, he’ll hire me. Hopefully he likes me. I shove open the bathroom door and look around until I see a black sign with w
hite letters at the end of the hall.

  MANAGER

  I take in a breath and hold it until I tap my fist against the door. Knock, knock, knock.

  “Yep?” A male voice calls.

  I turn the round metal handle and poke my head inside. “Mr. Heder?”

  He looks up from his desk and waves me in. “What can I do for you, little lady?”

  My hands are sweaty so I wipe them against my shorts as I walk across the narrow office. “H—hi. I was wondering if I could apply…here.”

  As he smiles, he looks me up and down before bending over to open a drawer. “You’re eighteen, right?”

  “Yes, sir, I just…I have no way to prove it.”

  He sighs and closes the cabinet. “Then an application would be pointless.” He pushes his glasses up onto his head. “So where are you from?”

  “I’m from here.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Sure you are. If anyone asks, you have all your papers, alright?”

  I nod. “Yes, sir.”

  He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “When can you start?”

  Does that mean I got the job? Even biting my lip doesn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. I did it!

  “Now?”

  He chuckles, “Young and eager. I like that. What’s your name?”

  “Tavin Winters.”

  He laughs again as he reaches across the desk and grabs a pen. “No, not your real name. What’s your stage name, doll?”

  Stage name? I have no idea what that is. “I…I don’t know.”

  “Well, what do you like?”

  I say the very first thing I think of. “I like candy.”

  He strokes his beard. “A bit on the cliché side, but it kind of fits you.” With a click of his tongue, he holds his arms out. “‘Candy’ it is. Why don’t you get a feel for the place while I tweak the schedule? It won’t take long.”

  I give him my biggest smile. “Thank you so much, Mr. Heder!”