Wicked Redemption (Dark Book 2)

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Wicked Redemption (Dark Book 2) Page 11

by Ashton Blackthorne


  Insecure.

  I swallowed that word like bitter gall. As much as I wanted to get to know Ash, part of me loathed how he made me feel about myself. I’d gone to the University of Chicago and held a degree in business like he did, but compared to Harvard Business School….

  “Are you Ayden?” A petite older woman wearing a blue maid’s uniform waved at me.

  “Yes, I am.”

  God, he had servants too! Gazing around, why would I have expected any less? This house must’ve been at least 10,000 square feet or more.

  “Please come in. Mr. Blackthorne instructed me to give you a drink and have you set in the front salon. He’s on a call at the moment.”

  The kindly older woman showed me into the home.

  Walking in, I was immediately surrounded in an insane amount of decadent décor. The floors were of the finest polished hardwood. My shoes squeaked as I walked across it. The spiraling staircase in the center of the foyer seemed to go on forever. I glanced up to see an immense crystal chandelier above my head.

  Wow.

  She opened the pocket doors to a huge room with an enormous stone fireplace. There was one solid wall of nothing but bookshelves littered with different leather bound books. A desk sat in the center of the room along with two deep red leather couches.

  I sank into one as she handed me a glass of what I could only assume was Macallan.

  “He’ll be right with you.” She smiled patting her gray hair.

  I nodded.

  Before leaving, she turned back to me.

  “I must say, Ayden, you are as handsome as your brother.” Her cheeks flushed red as she hurried out.

  I laughed to myself. I’m sure that wouldn’t be the last time I’d hear that. I walked over to the bookshelves and studied some of the titles.

  The 120 Days of Sodom. A curious title for him to have. I guess my brother was just as kinky as I was. Ash certainly loved to read as there were tons of books. Turning my back to them, I looked over his desk.

  The wood seemed quite old, antique even. It was an exquisite piece of furniture, but somewhat unlike Ash who seemed a bit more modern in his tastes.

  Running my fingers over the top of it, I stopped to stare at the photo on the desk. It was a picture of Ash as a young boy maybe around twelve or so with an older very good looking man who I could only assume was his father.

  Our father.

  This had been his desk! I sat down in the leather executive chair. I brushed my fingers over the photograph. The resemblances between the three of us were strong. I could tell we both got our father’s penetrating hazel eyes and his dark brown hair. We were all three very tall and broad shouldered although I was more muscular than the both of them.

  I felt a familiar longing within me. It was as though the veins in my arms throbbed with need. I touched one of my old track mark scars.

  God, I wanted a fix so fucking bad.

  Suddenly, the doors parted as Ash walked in.

  “Ayden, I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

  Immediately, I stood up almost ashamed he’d caught me in an emotional moment.

  “Hi, Ash. Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place you’ve got here.” I laughed slightly.

  He shrugged sipping his glass of Macallan.

  “It’ll do, I suppose.”

  He finished his glass and sat it down. He gestured for us to have a seat.

  “Look, Ayden, you probably wonder why I’d invite you out here.”

  The thought had crossed my mind.

  “Of course.”

  “It’s not because I’ve had some deep religious experience and decided to forgive you. It’s not that at all. I can never forgive you for what you did to Amber. You fucking terrorized her, Ayden.” His jaw clenched tightly as he glared at me.

  “I know I did, Ash. And I’ve apologized repeatedly. There’s nothing I can do to take back what I did. But I am sorry. I was in a very bad place then. I’m not making excuses. I just wanted a chance to explain myself to you both.”

  He nodded stiffly.

  “That’s why I asked you here, Ayden. Amber wants nothing to do with you. However, she knows I have a lot of unanswered questions about you and our parents. I want to give you a chance to explain yourself.”

  I slapped my hands together and nodded. I flexed my muscles in my arms as I leaned forward.

  “Thank you, Ash.”

  He leaned back crossing his ankle over his knee.

  “So, tell me, Ayden, what you want. What was life like with…our mother?”

  I sighed deeply.

  “All I ever wanted, Ash, was a normal life. When I first found out who you were and who my father was, I wanted to meet you both. It had nothing to do with the money. Although the thought of not having to just scrape by in life was appealing.”

  “I admit growing up wealthy gave me an advantage most people don’t have. I can’t pretend I understand your struggles, but I can respect them.” His voice was so smooth like a radio announcer’s.

  As I launched into my story, I felt myself falling back through time.

  1997

  I heard the front door swing open. Several footsteps then a loud crash as someone fell to the floor.

  The fucking bitch was drunk again.

  I rolled over in my bed and tried to pull the covers over my head.

  “Ayden! Ayden!” Her drunken voice shattered all my hopes of a good night’s sleep. This was it. I’d had it! This was the fourth night this week she’d come home in the middle of the night. Chances were good that she had some loser with her. Flipping my light on, I grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor and my jacket.

  I threw open my bedroom door and stomped down the hall.

  There she was on the floor with some bald, overweight loser passed out on the floor next to her. She was struggling to stand up.

  “Ayden, please help me.” She kept trying to stand, but falling back onto the floor.

  I shook my head with disgust. I grabbed a pair of shoes and stuffed my feet into them.

  “Ayden, help me. Where ya goin?” She reached out to me. Her fingernails were broken and the skin on her arms was dark red.

  I reached out to her. She tried gripping my hand, but fell back again.

  “Ayden!” She cried her voice fading. She was going to pass out again. I reached into her coat pocket looking for cash. I was nearly stabbed in the hand with a used syringe. I tossed it aside as I pulled out a wad of bills.

  She must’ve been out turning tricks again given the amount of cash she had on her. I was surprised she hadn’t spent it all on dope.

  Leaving her sprawled on the floor with her drunken companion for the evening, I turned to leave.

  “Ayden, don’t leave! You’re my baby boy,” she cried tears further smearing her mascara. She reminded me of a broken doll.

  “I’m out of here. I’m no one’s fucking baby!” I stormed out of the house slamming the door.

  Walking out into the chilly night air, I wrapped my jacket around myself tightly. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from her. This was the fourth night in a row she’d done gotten drunk, high, and brought some loser home with her. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I was only fourteen years old and I had never been out at night alone like this on the street. I was walking alongside the main drag when I spotted a girl I thought I knew from school. She was standing in the doorway of a dilapidated house.

  “Hey!” I waved my arms over my head at her.

  She motioned for me to cross the street.

  Upon seeing her up close, I realized I didn’t know her.

  “So, who are you? Do I know you?” The girl was absolutely gorgeous. She eyed me up and down. She was a petite brunette with full, firm tits poking out from beneath her tight tank top. She slipped a cigarette in her mouth.

  “Need a light?” I pulled my lighter from my jeans pocket.

  “Sure, handsome.” She winked at me.

  I leaned forwa
rd flicking the lighter on.

  “Thanks. I haven’t seen you around here. Where you from?” She took a long drag on her cigarette. Her lips were full and sensual.

  Leaning back against the brick wall, I kept my gaze on her.

  “Nowhere.”

  “Bullshit, everyone’s from somewhere.” She handed the cigarette to me.

  I took it a long drag. I coughed a bit. I hated regular cigarettes.

  Flicking the ash on the ground, I looked around the burned out house. The ceiling was caved in on one side. The furniture was soaked from recent rains and smelled heavily of mildew.

  “So you don’t like to party much, huh?” She laughed as I coughed. I handed the cigarette back. Her fingernails were long and painted blood red.

  “I do some.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “So, babe, what are you doing here? This place is a notorious junkie hangout. Why the fuck did you come then if you didn’t want to get high?” She tossed her butt on the floor crushing it with her high heeled boot.

  I shrugged tossing my hair off of my face.

  “Who says I don’t like to have a good time? What do you have?” I stepped towards her towering over her. Even at the young age of fourteen, I stood near six feet tall. I looked much older than my actual age.

  She smiled. I stared at her nipples hardening beneath her top. She was petite, but curvy with a tight round ass filling out the back of her jeans.

  Looking through her pockets, she pulled out several small rolled up plastic bags.

  “Some of the best shit around. I get it from Southie Sam.”

  I nodded. I had absolutely no idea who Southie Sam was nor did I care. I just wanted to get high.

  I reached out to grab it from her.

  Quickly, she slapped my hand away.

  “Hey, I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Ayden. What’s yours?”

  “Skylar.”

  I nodded anxious to get my hands on one of those bags. It would serve my fucking mother right if I became a junkie just like her.

  “I wasn’t going to just give it to you, Ayden. You got any money?”

  I tossed two twenty dollar bills at her.

  “That’ll do.” Skylar handed two bags to me.

  Eagerly, I took the bags and raced over to the kitchen counter. It was covered in filth. Taking my sleeve, I wiped an area clean and proceeded to dump the contents out. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed another bill.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Skylar looked perplexed.

  “I’m going to do a line. What do you think I’m doing?”

  Her tits jiggled as she laughed.

  “Dummy, it’s not coke. It’s smack. Don’t you know the difference?”

  I shrugged pretending I did. I’d only ever done cocaine I’d never tried anything else.

  “You can still snort it.”

  “Yeah, but this is so much better!” She reached into a dingy red bag and pulled out a spoon, rubber tube, and syringe.

  “Oh, fuck no, I’m not shooting up.” I held my hands up. I’d do lines of coke left and right, but shooting up that was a whole other game.

  “Don’t be a pussy, Ayden. Besides, you’re hot. I’d like to get to know you better.” She placed the items in front of me.

  Skylar pulled her top off revealing her big tits. My mouth watered. I was still a virgin.

  But hopefully Skylar would change that.

  Besides, how bad could smack be?

  “Do it up.” I commanded. With ease, she sat up fixing up the syringe. She slipped the tube around my arm tapping for my vein. When she found one, she plunged the needle into my arm. Suddenly, as she pushed down on the plunger I felt myself in orbit. I fell back on the hardwood floor gazing up at the ceiling. I couldn’t move. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The feeling was indescribable. All the pain I’d been feeling seemed to melt away. Skylar knelt beside me as she pushed off right next to me. She curled up beside me as I closed my eyes savoring the delicious feeling.

  This was better than pot.

  Better than cocaine.

  Better than anything I’d ever felt.

  And I never wanted it to end.

  Ash stared at me as I spoke. I could tell he wasn’t moved by this brief tale. I sighed. I knew that would all change when I told him everything that had happened to me.

  A year passed, every morning I’d stop by the liquor store on my way to school and grab a pint of vodka or gin whichever was cheaper. By the time I’d walked the three blocks to school, the bottle would be empty. Then, at lunch, my friends and I would sneak off campus and spend the day getting high and playing with girls.

  I managed to stay away from needles since that night. Smack had given me the most intense high I’d ever had, but I’d watched my mom get too fucked up on it. I didn’t really want to become like her. I told myself just that one time didn’t count. I stuck to snorting coke and smoking weed.

  Finally, one fateful night my mother stumbled into the house around 3 AM. I had just gotten home myself. I was lying in bed when I heard the door slam.

  Walking downstairs, I saw her sitting at the table with a needle stuck in her arm. She was just about to push the plunger down.

  Instantly, I raced towards her and jerked the needle out of her arm.

  “Ayden! What the hell are you doing?” She screamed. Her blue eyes were bloodshot. Heavy alcohol fumes poured from her mouth as she spoke.

  Ignoring her, I took the balloon of heroin and dumped it out in the sink. I turned on the faucet watching the white powder wash down the drain.

  My mother went crazy grabbing at my arms scratching me with her long nails.

  “Ayden! How could you? My God, what have you done?” She screeched frantically trying to scoop the remnants of the powder out of the sink.

  “What I should’ve done a long time ago, Mother, dear. You’re fucking killing yourself!”

  She collapsed to the floor howling in anguish.

  “Ayden, you’re insane! Don’t you that was everything I had? I’m sick! I need it!”

  She began to bang her head against the cabinets. I stared at her in disbelief.

  “I’ve fucking had it, Mom. I’m out of here. I’m not going to watch you die anymore.”

  Turning away from her, I rushed up the stairs. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed it full of clothes. Running back down the stairs, I found her digging through her purse searching for more dope, no doubt.

  “Bye, Mom.” I pushed past her towards the kitchen door.

  She threw herself at me.

  “Ayden, you get back here! You’re not going anywhere! You’re only fifteen years old. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She grabbed my wrist attempting to pull me back towards the living room.

  Giving her a violent shove, I moved away from her.

  “No, Ayden! Get back here. You’re my son! You’re all I have!” Brokenly, she began to sob. Her faded pink dress was falling off her thin shoulders. Long, nasty track marks decorated her arms. Her skin was a sickly shade of gray. I knew she’d been out turning tricks again and shooting dope.

  Fucking disgusting.

  “I’m supposed to stay because you’re my mother? Are you fucking kidding me? Have you ever been a real mother to me? Tell me, Mom, when all the kids at school were talking about what their parents bought them for Christmas what was I supposed to say? Nothing, my mom spent all her money on dope! Or when I was in the school play in fifth grade and everyone’s mother was there to cheer their kids on and I was the only kid without anyone there. Were you a mother then? Where the fuck have you been the past fifteen years?” I spat my words at her. My fists clenched around my backpack tightly.

  Her sickly gray skin paled. She shuddered as my words must’ve cut her at least somewhat.

  “Ayden, I admit I haven’t always done right by you, but you’re my son and I love you.”

  I watched as her eyes became more unfocused and glass
y. Hell, she was probably about to pass out now.

  “Fuck it, Mom, I’m done watching you throw your life away. I’m done listening to you fuck some loser in the next room. I’m done….with you!” I pushed past her towards the door.

  In an instant, she hurled herself through the air at me. She crashed at my feet and wrapping her arms around my legs.

  “Ayden, you’re all I have left. I’ll try to do better, I promise!”

  I rolled my eyes. I’d heard it all before. Things never changed.

  “Sorry, Mom, it won’t work this time. I’m leaving.”

  “Ayden, please, you’re the only son I have left!” She sobbed curling her fingers around my ankles.

  The only son she had left? Had she ever had another?

  “Who’s my dad, Mom? I can go live with him.” I knew that would enrage her.

  “Your father? Fat chance of that happening. He’s a cheating bastard!” She screamed as she rolled over on the floor. She scrambled to her feet.

  “You want to know who your dad is so badly, Ayden? Watch the fucking news sometime.”

  What?

  “What the hell do you mean? You always said he was dead or that you couldn’t remember who he was. Fuck, Mom, get your story straight!”

  She snorted.

  “Oh yes, Ayden, I know exactly who he is and where he is. But you’ll never know if you leave.” She smiled sadistically.

  At that point, I no longer cared. It didn’t make any difference to me at all who my father was. I just wanted to get away from her.

  “I’m done, Mom. Goodbye.”

  I threw open the door and walked out into the night. I could hear her screaming all the way down the block. I didn’t care. I was just glad to be gone.

  Ash looked at me incredulously.

  “Really, Ayden? A bit dramatic, don’t you think? You expect me to believe that?”

  I ran my hands through my hair.

  “Ash, it’s the truth. You know what a psycho bitch she is. How can you blame me for wanting to get away from her?”

  As I hit the streets for real, I gradually sank into despair. I was shooting up multiple times a day.

 

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