“What? What’s so funny?” I laugh harder because he’s fucking serious. “What the fuck are you laughing at, asshole? I told you it wasn’t anything special.”
Still laughing, I pull myself out of the car. “No, dude... You said the ass was subpar. You didn’t say the entire establishment was a shithole.”
“Hey, come on. Don’t judge a book by its cover. You’re just pissed because you got cancer and all your hair fell out.”
I kick at his foot mid stride, making him trip and land flat on his face. Stepping past him, I tell him over my shoulder, “Fuck you, prick. I got a haircut. And I guarantee I’ll pull more ass than you sportin’ this skull cut.”
Once I’m inside, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim lights. I spot a booth off to the side and head in that direction.
Josh nods my way before heading to the bar. Before my ass connects with the booth’s low-hanging seat, a cocktail waitress is leaned over the table and in my face. “Whatcha want, handsome?”
“Nothing, I’m good. Thanks though, doll. My boy is at the bar grabbing a pitcher.” She’s okay looking but definitely not something I’d touch with a ten-foot pole.
“What about anything besides something to drink?” She straddles my waist, but before her ass can meet my lap, my hands shoot out. Grabbing her by waist, I roughly jerk her off me.
“Like I fucking told you the first time, I’m good, ‘kay? Go find someone else to fuck with”—l look at her name tag—”Cherry.”
“Fine, you fucking asshole.” She stomps off, nearly running into Josh carrying a pitcher and two frosty mugs.
“You pissin’ them off already? Jesus Christ, Leo. I’ll do you a favor. You get first dibs... Because you really need some pussy, but mainly because you also need to pipe the fuck down.” Josh fills both our mugs with beer and we clink them together. “Oh, shit. I’ll be right back. Gotta go talk to Brandon real quick. You good?” He asks.
“Yeah, Josh. Don’t need you holding my hand, dude. This ain’t my first time at a strip club.” I gulp down half my beer in one swig as Josh heads behind the stage area.
The DJ starts some remix of ‘80s jams.
When the stage lights up, I’m excited to see a nice seven strut out onto it. Maybe this place isn’t so bad.
After two or three dancers do their routine—if that’s what you can call it—Josh heads back to our table with a shit-eating grin across his face. “What the fuck did you do?” He slides a pack of cigarettes across the table and it lands in my lap. “Josh, I have a pack of cigarettes. Wha—”
“Shh... Just shut the fuck up, dude. It’s Vicodin. I know you love your Dilaudid, but that shits just as good.”
“Josh, it took me a fucking month of hell to detox myself off that shit. I’m not fucking going through that again.” I slide the pack back across the table, but he only slides it right back.
“You need a chill pill, Leo. Seriously. I can’t fucking take your depressed ass for much longer. I got an endless supply of that shit. Just don’t go balls to the wall with it like you did the other shit. Keep your handle on it and you’ll be fine.”
To keep from playing ping-pong with the asshole, I slide the pack in my back pocket.
A solid eight comes up to our table. “Boys, y’all need anything?”
“Why yes, Candy. How did you know?” Josh asks then winks at her.
“Oh, you know… It’s just my sick sense.”
I clear my throat and lean forward to correct her but decide against it when I feel Josh’s boot connect with my shin.
“I bet it is, love. Look, this is Leo, and Leo needs some fun. Poor guy had his heart broken.” He reaches over and pulls Candy into his lap. “Think you can line up some shots for us, sweet tits?”
She leans in and her tongue traces his lips before she whispers. “Want the whole bottle, handsome?”
“I do.” He tucks a bill into her bra cup before she saunters off.
“You’re going to get me fucking hammered, aren’t you, Joshie?” I smile at the bastard.
“That’s the plan, motherfucker. That’s the plan.” Josh leans back against the booth and settles the back of his head in his hands.
“Good... Fucking bring it.” I got a bitch named Lil to wash out of my veins. And I’ll fucking chase her out with anything I can.
I swallow two Vicodin down with the last of our beer as Candy lines up over 20 shots of tequila.
“Well this should fucking work,” I smile up at Candy. “Thanks, babe.” I slam back eight shots, one right after another, light a cigarette, and lean back, letting my mind fog in the peaceful buzz I feel coming over me.
Lil is not even an echo of a thought anymore. An hour goes by and I decide that I fucking love Pandora’s. I’m just about to declare my love for this wonderful establishment too.
Then the whole fucking bar goes pitch dark. A bright spotlight cuts through the bar and lands on the most sparkly thing I’ve ever seen descending from the ceiling on a swing.
“Wow, she’s so sparkly. She’s like a fucking diamond,” I whisper like an idiot in awe.
Candy interrupts her dry humping against Josh to turn around and tell me through her giggles, “It’s a good thing her name is Sparkle.”
“Sparkle. I like that.” I’m grinning up at her like a fool. She’s a fucking ten.
I love sparkly tens.
The swing lowers down to the stage near the pole. Then she hooks a leg around it and spins the swing out, circling the pole until I’m almost dizzy. On the last circle around the pole, she grabs it with a long, dainty arm. Stopping herself mid swing, she flips off then slides down the pole upside down until right before her dark blond hair brushes the stage.
The spotlight turns off and flashes ten seconds later, landing directly back to her. Facing the crowd, she lets her hands dance up her body and through her hair until they are above her head, her legs spread with her clear stilettos under her ass. She twists and turns in perfect rhythm to the slow, familiar beat coming from the speakers.
Her corset looks see-through, and jewels are sewn into the fabric only covering her three hot spots: nipples and pussy. She turns her back to the crowd but keeps her face turned to the side.
When I hear her speak, a breath I didn’t know I was holding whooshes out of my lungs.
Her voice cuts through the club, singing a sultry song in a soft, melodic whisper “It’s been seven hours and fifteen days…since you took your love away,” She moans. I’m so goddamn entranced I can’t look anywhere else. “I go out every night and sleep all day…since you took your love away.” The fucking song… Her fucking voice has my cock instantly hard. I sink back into the booth, trying to adjust myself.
When Sparkle turns around, her sparkly top is gone and my jaw hits the table with one glance of the most perfect fucking rack I’ve ever seen... EVER.
“Fuck, man. I’m in love. I swear to Christ, I am.”
Josh laughs and snuggles into Candy’s cleavage, not looking twice at Sparkle. “Well that was fucking fast, thankfully,” he mutters into her tits.
I watch Sparkle, mesmerized for what seems like both an eternity and only a split second. Once she’s stripped to nothing but a G-string and at the edge of the stage making love to it, right there in front of God and everyone, her dance falters. She freezes like a deer caught in headlights, and I rip my eyes away from her sexy-as-fuck body, looking up into her navy blue eyes. I let my eyes dance across her face… My heart feels like a fucking drum beating in my chest.
She’s so fucking beautiful. Goddamn, I have never wanted someone like I want Sparkle. Fuck, Lil... Who is Lil? Shit all I see is Sparkle.
She’s all I’ll ever see.
Until my drunken mind clears...and then all I see Annalise.
I try to stand up but slip and bust my ass. Crawling towards the stage, I call out, “Annalise?”
I hear some guy walk up and say while standing over me, “Not tonight, motherfucker.” Then his boot mak
es contact with the back of my head, slamming my face into the filthy concrete floor.
And it’s lights out, Leo.
The shrill sound of the phone ringing pierces my skull. I have no recollection of what the FUCK is wrong with me. I grab the pillow under my head and pull it over my ears to block out the hellish fucking sound.
“Fuck!” I yell when the offensive sound won’t stop. Then it does. Thank fuck.
“Shit, Leo.” I hear Josh before he shakes me.
I just swing, connecting with something, and hear him yelp before rolling back onto my stomach. That’s when I realize it’s not only my brain begging for mercy, but my face is too. Shit it is fucked up...bad.
“The fuck, Josh... What the hell happened to my goddamn face, you motherfucker?”
“Oh... Ah, Sparkle.”
Why is he talking about sparkles?
“Seriously, dude. You gotta get up. That was Gramps. We’re like, shit, four and a half hours late to work!”
I rip the pillow off my head and glare at the fucker. “WHAT?!” I jump to stand up but the whole room spins and immediately I fall back onto my bed.
“Wow, Leo your face is really fucked up, dude. Way worse than last night. I’m pretty sure your nose is broke. Let me look at it.” He leans over me, and I pull my head back so he can see.
“What’s it look like?”
“Here, let me...” He pinches my nose and I hear bones grating together at the same time I feel a knife of pain slice up my nose and into my brain. My knee flies up to the back of his head right as my fist meets his nose. “FUCK! What the—”
“Fuck you, Josh! Fuck you! Get out of my face before I kill you, motherfucker!” He’s holding his nose and it’s gushing blood everywhere. “I fucking told you I was going to look!”
“Look, fucker! Not touch!” I rip the t-shirt off my back to soak up the blood pouring from my nose. “Call Gramps. Your ass is going in. Tell him I’m at the ER getting my shit fixed.”
“Okay,” he groans on his way out of my room.
“Josh!” I shout. No way in hell will I attempt to get out of bed again.
“Yeah?” He sounds like he’s back in my room.
“Don’t you fucking tell Gramps shit else! I’ll figure something out.”
“What about my nose?”
I peek through my left—swollen—eyelid and see him poking at it. “Shove a tampon up your nose and get your ass to work, you dumbass!”
He turns off the lights before slamming the door shut.
I roll over and pass the fuck back out.
I don’t know if it’s yesterday, today, or tomorrow when I wake up, can’t tell if it’s early as fuck or nighttime. I do know that my face still fucking hurts. Like something wicked.
Slowly, I sit up, trying to see if the room is going to tilt again.
I sigh and thank Christ when it doesn’t. I crack my least swollen eye to assess my surroundings. I’m in my boxers. My bloody t-shirt is twisted around my pillow. Jeans are on the floor. Pack of cigarettes is open next to my jeans. I bend down to pick them up and I’m surprised when white pills scatter everywhere.
Hmm. This is different.
There’s an old water bottle sitting next to the bed—don’t know how old and since I’m fresh out of fucks to give, I don’t. I also have no idea what the fuck I’m taking or where the fuck it came from. If it’s Tylenol…score.
However, any time I’ve been around pills in a cigarette pack…they ain’t been OTC-grade shit… So double fucking score. I pop four, just in case they are Tylenol, and gulp down all the water.
I give some serious thought into getting up and finding something to eat when my stomach growls. However, when I lean forward and the room tilts, I decide against it and lay my ass back down. I grab the clicker and turn on MTV but turn the volume way down.
I lie there and zone out watching music video after music video.
It doesn’t take long before I realize that those were not Tylenol. My nose feels itchy. So does my chin. Then after a few minutes, I feel numb. Not like ‘my foot’s asleep’ numb, but like a ‘fuck, yeah. I love this shit’ numb.
I get out of bed and head to the kitchen for a beer, hoping it’s nighttime, because if its daytime, Gramps is gonna fucking kill my ass. As soon as I crack open my beer, I remember that I missed work.
I really do want to give shit, really I do. But only for a split second.
I guzzle the beer down. Fuck, I’m thirsty as hell. I grab another one and head towards my room, but a knock on the front door stops me.
“Bet you twenty fucking bucks that bitch forgot his keys,” I mumble and trip over shit that isn’t there on my way to the door. “Sup, fucker? Forget your damn ke—”
Shit. It’s Sparkle.
Annalise.
She laughs and ducks her head, her hair falling over her face. “Sup, fucker. Nope, didn’t forget my keys… You never gave me one.”
“Ahh…sorry, I thought…” I open the door farther and turn on a lamp. “It’s dark as fuck in here. You wanna come in or did you need something?” I come back to the door to see if she ran off.
She gasps and steps into the apartment, immediately grabbing my hand in hers. It’s warm. Shit, she smells like fucking cinnamon and honeysuckle. Her other hand lightly whispers over my face, and I nudge into her palm, seeking out more of her touch.
“Shit, Leo. I’m gonna fucking kill Steve. I’m so sorry.”
I chug what’s left of my beer and set it on the end table before both of my hands slide up the outside of her arms and cradle her face. “I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me.” I chuckle but it sounds sad even to my own ears. “I’ve had a lot worse. I can this shit, I promise.”
“Leo.” She sighs, looking up into my eyes before she closes hers, “Please let me take care of you. This is all my damn fault.” Her eyes open again and I see them filled with worry as she takes in all the split skin and swelling on my face. “Please…”
“You can take care of me. I’ll let you. But you gotta do it my room. Can’t fucking deal with Josh when he comes in.” I grab her hand and pull her towards my room.
She stops right before entering my room and glances in the direction of the fridge. “You need another beer?”
“That would be perfect, actually.” I turn the lights off in my room but leave a dim lamp on, straightening my bed out as quickly as I can before tossing the bloody shirt in the laundry and scooping up all the pills. I barely get them thrown in the bedside table drawer before she comes into my room.
“Damn, nice room. Really. I expected a twin mattress on the floor with no sheets.” She laughs, walking to me and opening my beer. “Here, you drink this. Well, fucking guzzle it and I’ll get you another one when I come back. I at least want two beers in you before I start working on you. I was in nursing school… Almost finished too. I trained for the ER. Anyway, I’m talking too much. You drink that. I’m going to grab my first aid kit.” She scurries out of my room and I hear the front door as it closes.
I roll over and grab two more damn good Tylenol, pop ‘em, and chug my beer.
Hey, fuck you. This chick was almost a nurse. I want to make damn sure I don’t feel whatever the fuck she’s about to put me through.
“Hey, where are your rags at? Bathroom?” She hands me a new beer she’s already opened for me.
“Thanks. Yeah, they’re in there. In the cabinet below the sink.” She goes into the bathroom and I swallow half the beer down then set it on the bedside table and lie back.
Fuck, I feel good. My eyelids feel heavy and they keep closing so I leave them that way. I lie there listening to Annalise move around in the bathroom.
A few seconds later, I feel the bed dip and a warm moist rag being laid across my face. “Just leave that there until it cools for me, okay? Did you—” I hear her sigh. “Don’t stop me if this hurts. I told you to finish that beer, Leo.”
“I’ll be fine, babe. I’m good.” I reach out blindly until I
feel her hand. I grab it and lay it on my chest before covering her hand with mine. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Ha.” Her hand lightly pats my chest. “You won’t be saying that in a minute.” She moves the now cooled rag off my face and replaces it with another warm one. “I’m gonna go grab some ice. Be right back,” she whispers before I feel the bed dip and her weight move off it.
I’m almost asleep when I hear her humming. Then the rag is pulled off and she uses another warm one to wipe my face clean. “Your nose is broken, but the good news is it’s set, so it won’t leave an ugly bump or heal crooked.” I feel her fingertips pushing my skin together on my split lip and eyebrow. Then the gash on my cheekbone. “You weren’t going to the doctor for this, were you?”
“No.” Ice-cold liquid seeps into my cuts one by one.
“This should clean out the wounds good enough.” She blows over each one, adds more cold to each cut, and then blows on them again. “I’ll just butterfly them. Too much time has gone by for stitches, so if I try to stitch them, it’ll just scar even worse.”
Her fingers are like soft little petals brushing against my skin. She pushes each cut together and has it bandaged up a second later. She finishes way too quickly for me.
I don’t want her to stop touching my face. I don’t want her to stop touching me, period.
“I made like an ice mask with what I have. I want the ice to stay on your eyes, nose, and cheeks. That’s where the worst of your swelling is. Are you hurting?” Her voice cracks at the end of her question. I grab her t-shirt and pull her towards me until I can get my hands around her waist and lay her prone body on top of mine.
“I’m much better now, Annalise.” I kiss the top of her head and let my fingers run through her long hair. For a second, I let myself believe it’s Lil. “Just need you to lay with me. Just lay with me, baby.”
You and I both know who I’m talking to.
Sometimes you have to lie to your own face.
Sometimes, when your own reality hurts so fucking bad, for so goddamn long, you have no other choice but to numb it with lies and vices that, in the end, leave will only leave you ruined.
Holding Her in Madness Page 10
