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Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

Page 75

by Lilliana Anderson


  Fourteen

  Jeff is on edge. I don’t know if it’s me, or if it’s because of that guy he beat up at the club the other night. But he’s not his usual self. I miss his usual self.

  His phone keeps ringing, and he leaves the room to talk quietly to whoever’s on the other end. He’s snappy and moody, and I feel like I’m in the way. Just like I was at home.

  I try to be available for him whenever he needs me, which is a lot. But we seem to have lost that deep sexual connection we once shared. Our love making has turned into fucking, and I don’t know how to get it back.

  Tonight we’re going to an alcohol-free band night. It’s for under 18s, so Jeff will need to wait for me outside. We’ve done this before, it’s a fairly easy place to sell. It’s held at a scout hall, and the crowd gets so big that it spills outside and surrounds the premises.

  It shuts down at midnight, so we arrive around nine. It’s dark and teenagers are starting to get bored without alcohol giving them a buzz.

  There’s security milling about, and it’s their job to find and remove anyone found to be drinking or concealing alcohol. Taking an E is the perfect solution to a fun night without alcohol. So when I arrive, they’re more than ready to part with their money.

  After doing a lap through the premises as well as one outside, word is getting around that I’m here and ecstasy is available. This is normally when I get going, because teenagers can’t always be trusted to be discreet.

  I’m on my way out to Jeff, when I get pulled into the bathroom and bailed up by a few giggly girls who want to buy some tabs. Problem is, they want more than they can afford, and I’m not willing to bargain with them.

  “I can’t help you then,” I say, turning around, ready to walk away. Instead of finding an empty doorway, I’m faced with the instantly recognisable blue shirt of a police officer.

  His hands are on his hips as he looks down at me disapprovingly. “You wouldn’t be the girl with wild curly brown hair and light coloured eyes whose supplying kids with happy pills are you?”

  I shake my head from side to side quickly and try to step around him. “No officer. There must be someone else,” I say as confidently as I can.

  He steps to block my path. “Well then, you won’t mind showing me what’s in your pockets then.”

  “I don’t have to do that.”

  “And I don’t have to move if I don’t want to. I can arrest you on suspicion alone.”

  We stand staring at each other for a few moments. My mind is racing as I try to think of a way to get out of this.

  “Fine,” I say eventually. “I’ll empty my pockets.”

  A crowd has formed outside the door of the bathroom, and the girls who wanted to buy from me are trapped behind me. I fake reaching into my pocket before kicking out at his knee. Hard.

  He stumbles back, and I take the opportunity to run past him. When I reach the door, I slam right into the female officer who was accompanying him and send her sprawling on the floor. Her head snaps back, and even over the din of the music, I can hear the loud thud.

  I pause momentarily, worried I’ve severely hurt her. But my need to escape is greater, and I take off. The crowd instantly parts but a hand shoots out and grabs me by the hair. I kick back, connecting with the shin of the first officer.

  “Stop kicking me,” he demands, his voice strained as he yanks on my hair.

  In the small space I have to move, I don’t have many options. I twist my body towards him, feeling as though my hair is coming out by the roots, and bring my knee up, landing the blow square in his crotch.

  He makes a sound like ooff as his face turns red, his eyes bug out and water forms around their edges. He releases my hair.

  I run.

  The crowd is thick, but I make it through. I push and bump against bodies who know I’m running, and bodies who have no idea and are still dancing and laughing with their friends.

  When I make it outside, I make a beeline for the car, walking as fast as I can without calling any extra attention to myself by running.

  “We have to leave,” I tell Jeff the moment I get into the car.

  Without questioning me, he starts the engine, and we drive off at a normal speed with me crouched down low and Jeff carefully watching our surrounds.

  “What happened?”

  “Cops.”

  “Did they see you?”

  “Yeah. One grabbed me, and I accidentally knocked the other one out.”

  “Shit, Paige. How could you be so careless?”

  “I wasn’t. I was on my way out.”

  He slams the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Did they get the stash? The money?”

  “No.” I slide up into my seat. “I still have everything.”

  “Fucking stay down.”

  I slide back onto the floor. “I’m sorry,” I tell him again, trying my best to stay strong and not start crying.

  “Just… Just stay down and be quiet. I need to make sure we’ve gotten out of this.”

  For the next hour, we drive around aimlessly while Jeff listens to the police scanner and makes sure we aren’t being followed by anyone. Once he feels safe, he heads home.

  My legs are cramping, and my back is aching from being curled up in such a small space for so long. I’m in pain, and I feel like a complete failure. I wish I could close my eyes and have the world swallow me whole.

  When we pull up outside the house, Jeff cuts the engine and sits there for a moment bouncing his leg in agitation.

  “Get out,” he demands.

  I struggle out of the cramped space and make my way out of the car. Jeff is standing at the front door, glaring at me while he waits for me to go inside.

  The moment he shuts the door, he locks it tight and makes sure all the drapes are pulled. “Sit,” he tells me, pointing at the chairs surrounding the dining room table. I do as he says and watch him, biting my lip in worry as he paces the room in front of me, running his hands over his head and not saying a word.

  Finally, he pauses in front of me, his hands on his hips and his face set in anger.

  “I’m sorry!” I blurt out. I don’t know what else to say right now.

  He readjusts his stance slightly, and before I know what’s happening, light explodes behind my eyes as he strikes me across the face with the back of his hand.

  The force is enough to tip me off the chair. Sprawled on the floor, I clutch at my face protectively as pain radiates heat through my skin.

  “Get up,” he growls. In a panic, I do as he says and climb back onto the chair in front of him, my whole body shaking in fear as I do. “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

  I take a deep breath and relay everything that went on in the bathroom and how I escaped the cop. I can’t meet his eyes while I’m talking. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see there.

  When I finish, he’s still standing in front of me, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head from side to side.

  “What are the rules at those things, Paige?”

  “Sell until they know I’m there and leave before I’m found out,” I rattle off immediately.

  “You stayed too long,” he accuses me.

  “I got held up,” I protest in a whisper.

  He grabs my face roughly in his hand and squeezes my cheeks together. “You don’t get held up,” he yells into my face, pushing my head back forcefully as he takes a step away from me.

  “I’m sorry!” I cry out pleadingly. Tears burn hot in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

  “So am I, Paige. I’m fucking sorry too. The cops know what you look like. I can’t take you out anymore. You’re no good to me. Do you understand that? You’re fucking no good.”

  “Jeff, no! It was only one cop. Just one. The other one didn’t even get the chance to see me.”

  “And you knocked her out, then kneed him in the fucking balls. He’s not likely to forget you anytime soon.”

 
“We can change my hair. I can still sell, I promise you. It won’t ever happen again.”

  “Just. Just get out.”

  “What?”

  “Get the fuck out, Paige.”

  My mouth falls open as I realise he’s serious.

  “No. Please don’t do this to me. I can still sell. Just give me another chance,” I beg.

  “Get. Out.” he growls through clenched teeth.

  “Please, Jeff. I…I love you!”

  Suddenly he starts laughing. “You love me? Oh my god. You love me? Really? Wow. You are far more stupid than I gave you credit for.”

  “Why are you laughing?” I screech.

  “Because, Paige, you’re just a little girl, and not a very bright one at that. Actually, I’m stunned you didn’t get found out sooner than this. And it’s been good. It’s been fun. You’ve got a sweet cunt and a tight little arse. I’ve enjoyed you. But if you can’t sell. You’re a liability, and I don’t do charity.”

  I just sit there staring at him, shaking my head from side to side in disbelief.

  Suddenly he holds his finger up, and starts walking backwards, away from me. “You know what. You made me smile just now, so let me help you out.” He disappears into the bedroom and returns with a back pack, stuffing handfuls of my clothing inside it and shoves it at my chest. “Now get out.”

  “No please, we’re good together. Don’t do this, Jeff. Where will I go?”

  “I don’t care. I really couldn’t care less.”

  He pushes me roughly towards the door, and I fight against it the whole way. I’m petrified of being on my own again. I drop my bag as we reach the door and put my arms and legs out against the frame so he can’t push me through as I beg him not to throw me out.

  But he’s stronger than me and pins my arms and legs to my body, then physically throws me on the front lawn outside. I land with a thud that knocks the air painfully from my chest. In the time it takes to get back on my feet, my bag has come sailing out and he’s locked the door.

  “Shit,” I say to myself, slapping and kicking my heel on the damp grass beneath me. “Fuck.” I get up to my knees and pick up my bag, pushing everything inside it so I can at least close the zip.

  I can’t believe this just happened. I can’t believe someone I cared so much about could do this to me. We’ve shared our lives together. How can this be over so suddenly? How is this happening again?

  My mind does its usual thing, and reminds me that my parents were supposed to love me, and they threw me out for a lot less than this. Why wouldn’t Jeff do the same thing? I’m a liability.

  I stand and look at the house that had come to be my home, breathing heavily as I fight to keep my emotions in check.

  I want to go to the door and ask him to reconsider. But I don’t. I don’t bother fighting this. I don’t bother trying to get back in. I’ve been through this all before. Instead, I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and start walking, trying my best to hold it together so I can figure out what to do.

  I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash I have from the night of selling and count it. There’s over a thousand dollars.

  “Well, at least I have a decent amount of cash this time,” I say to myself, pushing it back inside my pocket. I also have a decent amount of ecstasy tablets left too, so at least I have a bit of happiness left in my life. Even if it’s only chemical.

  Fifteen

  “You can stay tonight," Tahlia says after I’ve cried on her shoulder. “But you can’t move back in.”

  My already broken heart quits beating. "What do you mean? Why?" I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  “The cops know who you are, Paige” She at least looks pained while she says this. "We can’t risk the business. They'll be looking for you now."

  Shit. Now I’m right back where I started. Homeless with nowhere to go.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, running a hand over my hair. "I wish I could help."

  “OK,” I sniff. Because what else am I going to do? Beg? Plead? My own family didn’t respond to that. Why would anyone else? “I’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Do you have money?”

  I nod. “OK.” She hugs me. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

  “Yeah,” I say, voice flat as I fake a smile. “Me too.”

  She leaves me to my old couch, and I lie there staring at the ceiling, struggling to sleep. I have nowhere to go, no one to count on. And if I stay here too long, I not only risk bringing the cops to their door, I also risk incurring the wrath of Jeff because I have his drugs and his money. Fuck. God only knows what he’ll do to me when he realises I took them. I’ll have to get out of town.

  Abandoning the uncomfortable couch and any chance of a bed tonight, I make my way to the train station and head for the city.

  At close to one in the morning, the rocking of the train is attempting to lull me off to sleep. I would be stupid to sleep on the train on my own, so I force my eyes to stay open. Actually, it’s stupid to even be on the train on my own at this time of night. But I don’t have much of a choice.

  I think my face must be bruising, because I get a few funny looks from some of the other passengers. I touch it gently and wince as my tender flesh cries out in pain. He obviously hit me harder than I thought.

  I bow my head and let my hair fall over that side of my face in an attempt to hide it. That will have to do for now.

  Watching the dark scenery as it travels by outside the train, I see a lit-up sign advertising motel rooms from $55 a night. I figure that’s as good a place as any and rise from my seat to disembark as the train slows down to pull into the station.

  The motel is a short walk from the station, and I move fast and confidently, praying silently that no one stops me.

  Thankfully, the worst I get is a few cat calls from party goers loitering outside a nearby club before I make it to the reception area and ask the exhausted and very disinterested looking clerk if I can have a room.

  “You got ID?” he asks, sitting forward and eyeing me up and down, sucking his teeth as he takes in my appearance.

  I hand him my ID and get ready to count out the money to pay for my room.”

  “Can’t rent to minors,” he says immediately, and pushes my card across the counter back towards me.

  “But… I need somewhere to sleep. I have cash. I can pay. Don’t send me back out there,” I plead, moving my hair a little so the side of my face is more visible to him, hoping it might sway his decision in my favour.

  His eyes skim over my face, and he sits back in his chair, the back of it creaking under the strain of his cumbersome weight.

  “It’ll cost you double.”

  I blink my eyes rapidly as I realise that at double the price, I can’t stay here long. I need more money.

  “Fine,” I say, pulling the money from my pocket and putting it on the counter in front of him.

  He hands me a form to fill out as he takes the money and places a passkey on the counter next to the clipboard.

  “You’ll be in room 25. It’s just down the end of the row to your left.”

  “Thanks,” I say, handing over the form and taking the plastic card.

  “Check out is at 10:30.”

  I nod and walk back into the dark. The room isn’t far from reception, but anywhere, alone in the early hours of the morning is scary as fuck. I thought I’d moved past this. I hate being out on my own at night. I’ve hated it ever since I was forced to sleep out in the park. Every noise and every shadow puts me on high alert, even the sound of a door opening sends my heart racing so fast I feel as if I might scream. I’m not equipped for this life.

  Without looking around me, I quicken my pace and locate my room, my shaking hand betraying me as it causes me to slip and miss the slot for the card.

  Once I make it inside, I lean against the door and breathe heavily. Glad to be somewhere safe. After a few moments, I head straight for the bathroom so I can see what’s been
causing the stares.

  “Oh wow.” I breathe out as my reflection greets me. My cheek is all red and swollen, and my right eye is slightly smaller than my left. A purple tinge is already developing, and I realise I’m likely to get a good-sized bruise. A bruised face will limit my options even further.

  “Fuck!” I cry and kick at the cupboard door. Tears burst from my eyes like the breaking of a dam, my sobs echoing off the tiles.

  Why does this shit happen to me?

  Is it really that hard to have me around?

  Am I that hard to live with?

  To love?

  I thought I was in love with Jeff. I thought that maybe, he was in love with me too. You are far more stupid than I gave you credit for. It was all a lie, and I was so fucking stupid to get sucked in; to think that someone could actually care about someone like me.

  You’re just a little girl, and not a very bright one at that. Actually, I’m stunned you didn’t get found out sooner than this. And it’s been good. It’s been fun. You’ve got a sweet cunt and a tight little arse. I’ve enjoyed you. But if you can’t sell. You’re a liability, and I don’t do charity.

  I’ve probably had people laughing at me behind my back this entire time.

  Nobody.

  Wants.

  Me.

  Nobody cares.

  I’m a liability.

  With my bottom lip shaking, I pull the bag of molly out of my pocket and count the pills, sliding them around in the plastic as I wonder if I should just take them all. Surely that would do it. No one would even notice I was gone. I doubt anyone would even claim my body.

  I empty the pills into my hand and study them. As I do, I imagine what it will be like to swallow them all and let them carry me away from this earth, never to return.

  Blissful, I hope.

  Staring at the pills in my palm, I’m frozen. “Just do it, Paige. End it.”

  I take three quick breaths and then cup my hand to my mouth, tossing the pills inside.

 

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