by L A Cotton
“Drink this,” he said pushing a cup into my hand. I guided it to my mouth and took a long pull, swallowing down the pills quickly before I had time to talk myself out of it.
When I finally opened my eyes, Donnie was watching me.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Now, we wait.”
Without thinking, I ripped open the bag and dropped three pills onto my tongue before snatching the bottle off the counter and washing them down with the rest of the vodka. The surge of alcohol against my raw insides caused me to grip the edge of the marble and the bottle shattered into a million pieces as it landed next to my feet.
Surrounded by hundreds of tiny glass shards and the smell of desperation, I crumpled onto the floor and closed my eyes.
What I had done?
Blurred images rolled through my mind. Donnie’s wild eyes. Mikey’s frown of disapproval. The regret in Dawson’s stare as he watched Donnie demand that I return to his side. The images came faster … more confused. Dawson kissing me, Donnie holding me, arms tugging at me, trying to pull me closer.
And then I felt it. The slow burn of euphoria. A subtle tingle built deep inside me, warming my stomach as I dropped my head back against the cabinet. The gentle vibrations grew into a wave of pleasure rolling through me until I felt as light as a feather and my body relaxed into the linoleum like a sponge.
Warm.
Happy.
Peaceful.
A wide smile spread across my face as I closed my eyes and lost myself to the high.
Nothing could compare to this.
Nothing.
Sweat poured off me as I bent over, gripping the handle of the back door while I caught my breath. A run had seemed a good idea at the time, a way to clear my head and switch off, but now, covered in sweat and out of breath, I wondered why I put myself through this torture. As I pushed open the door, Lex nodded his head in greeting. He’d set up shop at the kitchen table and was frowning at something on the screen. When I left for my run earlier, he was on the phone to Aidan, his brother, asking him to look into Donnie’s uncle and his connections.
“Mikey in?” I asked as I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Lex shook his head, and I leaned against the counter and downed half the bottle.
“Something about checking on the garage.” Lex barely took his eyes off the screen.
“How’s it going?”
Pushing back from the table, he rocked the chair backward and folded his arms behind his head. The breath he exhaled gave away his frustration. “Slow. All I’m coming up with is what you already knew. Franco DeLuca was a small-time dealer making a quick buck extorting local businesses. Looks like Donnie officially stepped up running things when Franco died twenty months ago.”
“What?” I paused mid slug. Pushing off the counter, I straddled one of the kitchen chairs and stared at him.
“Yeah. You sound surprised.”
“I am. It’s just … fuck, I don’t know. I never thought he’d step up to the plate, especially not after what happened to us … to me.” I pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to take a shower.”
After a long, hot shower, I felt better, cleaner, but still couldn’t get my head around what Lex had told me. Donnie was running things. He hated drugs, hated his family’s business, and he had been totally against us doing the drug run to help Joy out. So why would he do it now, if the rumors were true? Hearing Mikey’s truck in the drive, I looked out the bedroom window to see him pull into the driveway. Reaching into the dresser, I pulled out sweatpants and a t-shirt and struggled into them. My hair still damp from the shower, I started to dry it when Lex shouted up to me.
“Dawson. Man. Get down here.”
“Coming,” I grumbled, wondering what the urgency was, but pulled on my sneakers and bounded down the stairs. Just in time for Mikey to walk past me from the kitchen to the sitting room with Joy limp in his arms.
What the fuck? Joy. In his arms.
“What happened?” I hissed; my eyes narrowed to slits as I looked at her curled in his arms, head resting on his shoulder as he gripped her tightly.
“I couldn’t leave her.” He moved to the sofa, ready to set her down, but I caught his arm and shook my head.
“Put her in my room,” I commanded to which he gave a curt nod, but before he could leave, I stopped him again. “Then you and I need to talk.” He flinched under my hard stare and swallowed thickly. I knew my brother, and he’d confirmed my suspicion that he had been less than truthful with me. Tired of people hiding things from me, only telling me half-truths and keeping secrets, it was time for some honesty.
Lex watched me with caution when I flopped down on a chair at the kitchen table but didn’t comment.
“What is he playing at?” I asked, but really, I was talking to myself. If Lex knew anything, he would have told me, but Lex was Lex, and he always saw more than he let on.
“I have no clue. But here’s your chance …” he muttered the last part under his breath as Mikey appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him, I sprung out of my chair and was in his face within seconds. Grabbing a handful of his shirt in my fist, I slammed him up against the kitchen doorway, taking some satisfaction when he winced in pain.
“What the fuck is going on, Mikey? Tell me now or so help me God …” Mikey held his hands up, an act of surrender or to ward off a further attack, I wasn’t sure, but my grip didn’t loosen.
“I was checking on her-”
“Why?”
A confused look flickered across his eyes. “She’s my friend.”
“What made you check on her?” I asked through gritted teeth; my patience was running thin. I was never the most patient person to begin with, and Mikey was pushing me to the point where I was ready to snap.
“She wouldn’t reply to my texts. I was worried.”
“Why would you be worried?”
“Because of Donnie and what happened at Shakers.”
My grip tightened and I shoved him again. “Spill. I want to know what the hell is going on with Joy.” This time, he struggled against my hold and shoved at my shoulder. Anger flared in his eyes.
“Fuck you, Dawson. Who was the one to ask me to watch out for her? You fucked off and never came back, so don’t give me shit for looking out for her. I care about Joy, too.”
I growled, not liking the idea of my brother and Joy. She was mine, for fuck’s sake. Or she had been until I totally fucked it up. Mikey started to laugh, just to really piss me off, and I saw red. I twisted my hand in his shirt, tighter this time, and color started to rise in his cheeks as I pressed down at his throat.
“Calm the fuck down. You know it’s not like that. She’s like a sister to me.” Both his hands gripped the one held to his throat and I eased off a fraction. “She could have been my sister if you hadn’t fucked it up. Stop being a jealous prick.” We glared at each other in some kind of standoff. Neither of us willing to look away.
The chair scraped behind me and Lex’s hand pressed against my chest as he stood between us, bringing me to my senses. My grip loosened and Mikey’s color started to return to normal. With his fingertips, Lex pushed me backward and nodded toward one of the chairs.
“Sit,” he commanded in a low voice. “Both of you.”
Without looking at either of them, I straddled the chair and hunched over the back of it. Mikey took the seat next to me and slouched down, arms folded across his chest, refusing to look in my direction. Lex took his time filling a glass of water from the tap and setting it down in front of Mikey before taking his own seat back behind his laptops.
“Now.” He fixed me with a hard stare. “Play nice,” he warned. “Mikey, why don’t you start.”
Mikey threw a nervous glance my way and reached for his water, taking a long drink. “I check in with her every few days or so. Donnie was pissed after the other night in Shakers. Anyone could see that. I wanted to make sure she was okay.” He dipped his head, something close to regret in his
eyes.
A horrible sensation settled low down in my gut as it hit me; this wasn’t the first time. This had happened before. Rage started to bubble up inside me with the realization that Donnie had everything to do with it.
Slowly, I turned to stare at Mikey. “What has he done to her?” I asked through clenched teeth. Mikey looked away, cast his eyes to the ceiling, and drew a hand down his face. With a deep sigh of resignation, his hand dropped to the table.
“I think she’s on something. Pills, coke, I’m not sur-”
I’d heard enough and sprung out of my seat like a red-hot poker to my ass. “You’re fucking serious right now? She’s taking that shit?” Mikey’s stony silence and impassive face were answer enough. “I can’t do this.” I stormed out the back door.
“Dawson,” Lex shouted after me, but the slamming door cut him off. I stormed around the side of the house to the garage. Cursing, I kicked the garage door. Mikey’s truck was parked up against the door. There was no way I was getting out of here in my Camaro. Resting my palms on the door, I braced my weight and my head dipped. What a fucking mess. I thought coming back to bury Mom would be bad enough, but then I saw her. She was still here when she wasn’t supposed to be. And with him. He was my best friend, who I never heard from again after I was sent down, but still, we used to be close. What had happened to Donnie that he had taken over from his uncle—the man he hated more than anything—and worse, gotten Joy hooked on that shit?
I looked up to see Lex approach and he stood, arms folded across his chest. Keen eyes probed mine, and I shifted with unease at his scrutiny.
“Get back in there,” he ordered, his voice soft, but I knew Lex was nearing the end of his patience. I made a strangled noise of protest in the back of my throat; my breath grew more rapid as I held on to my temper, but then it dissipated with his next words. “She needs you.”
My breath was pushed from my lungs. “She doesn’t.”
“Yes. She does,” he clipped out, and without waiting, he turned and stalked back to the house leaving me to follow like a naughty child.
Neither of them said a word when I entered the kitchen and took a position leaning against the wall. Mikey eyed me warily, no doubt wondering how long until my next outburst.
“This isn’t Joy,” he said, and his gaze softened a fraction, making me feel like a dick for taking my anger out on him. It wasn’t his fault; none of this was his fault. He was only doing what I asked of him. Looking out for Joy.
Fuck.
My hands balled into a fist, and with a rush of anger, I swung it toward the wall straight through the plasterboard. Lex watched me, eyebrow quirked up. “Better?” he asked in a dry, unamused tone. I scowled at him because it hurt like hell, but I did feel better.
“Go and check on her.” Mikey jerked his head to the door.
“Will she want to see me?” I asked, worried for the first time that maybe she doesn’t want me here. After the initial flare of desire I saw in her eyes the night at Shakers, all I could see was fear, mingled with defeat. “Is she scared of Donnie?”
Mikey shifted in his seat and his eyes flicked over to Lex, who sat up straighter and leaned forward.
“Yeah,” he admitted and ran a hand over the back of his neck. I glanced at Lex, but his expression gave nothing away. I waited. “He … ah … he’s different. Violent.”
“With Joy?” Lex asked the question which was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work.
“Sometimes …” There was more, but Mikey was reluctant to divulge the rest. “He won’t be happy you’re back and well … Joy …”
“Spit it out, Mikey, for fuck’s sake,” I groaned.
“It’s not the first time it’s happened.”
“What?” I pushed off the wall and started for the door, but as I passed Mikey, he reached out to grab my arm.
“Dawson … Just … go easy on her.”
“I will,” I promised and rested my hand on his. Despite the fact my blood boiled and a rage was building inside me, where Joy was concerned, I needed to calm down. But I was having trouble getting my head around the fact he had hit her. It was one of the golden rules: You never hit a girl. Ever. When Mikey brought her in, she was asleep or out of it; I’m not sure which, but her head was down and her dark hair fell like a curtain over her face.
I closed the bedroom door softly behind me and stood for a minute to watch her. When I noticed the dark bruise on her left eye, I flinched. She’d tried to cover it up with makeup, but there was no hiding it. It had to have hurt. That bastard, DeLuca; my hands balled into a fist and then she rolled over onto her other side. I froze, afraid she would wake. I hadn’t worked out what I wanted to say to her yet. I had so many questions, so many regrets.
Fuck.
I wish I’d known, that someone had told me what the hell was going on. I bet she thought I’d abandoned her when I didn’t come back as I said I would. But she was supposed to be away at college. Away from Chancing. And for some fucked-up reason, I thought Dad was right when he told me she’d gotten as far away as fast as she could and how it would be better for everyone if I stayed away. It wasn’t better for anyone. But now it was too late to change any of it. I couldn’t take any of it back, but this could be my second chance. This time, I wasn’t leaving her, no matter what anyone said or did. I owed it to us to stand by her and make it right. To show her how sorry I was and that I still loved her. I never stopped. I couldn’t. Joy had owned my heart since day one. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way or wouldn’t give me another chance, but I had to try.
A shiver worked its way through her body and I moved over to the bed not entirely sure what I planned to do. In her sleep, she looked more like the Joy I remembered, not tired or run-down, no fear in her eyes or the haunted look I saw the other night. On the exposed skin of her neck, I noticed marks. Without thinking, I climbed onto the bed, taking care not to disturb her, and leaned in to inspect them. Reaching out, I traced my fingertip over the bruises, causing a soft moan to escape her lips. My whole body went taut, waiting to see if she would wake. She didn’t and I breathed out.
My body curved around hers as I laid beside her leaving only a small gap between us. Nevertheless, heat from her body transferred into mine bringing with it a rush of memories. How many nights had we lain like this before it was time for me to take her home? Wrapped in each other’s arms, not saying a word. Another soft moan and Joy wriggled backward until she pressed against my front. My muscles grew tense, her ass brushed over my dick, which hardened in record time, as she snuggled into my body. For a long, agonizing minute, I waited to see if she would realize I was there. But she didn’t and I forced myself to relax. I wrapped my arm around her waist and ignored my throbbing dick as I pulled her even tighter to me. Pressing a kiss to the back of her head, I held her. Our talk would need to wait, which was fine with me. For now, she was back where she belonged.
Light warmed my face and I tilted my head into its rays letting it warm my skin, and that’s when I felt it.
Something was wrong.
I tried to lift my head off the soft pillow beneath, but everything ached. My bones, muscles, the skin covering them. Everything was heavy and sore. My mouth was arid, my tongue mashed to the roof of my mouth. I gagged.
What the hell happened?
There had been the argument with Donnie then I had tried to fix my face. The pills, damn, I took the pills. Shame weighed me down where I lay quickly replaced by a sinking feeling as I realized I wasn’t in my own room. There was no window in my apartment bedroom. So unless someone had dragged my bed into my small living room, I was somewhere other than my apartment.
Bracing myself, I slowly opened my eyes. Pain radiated through my cheekbone and my head felt ready to explode, but I refused to let the memories in. Not now. Not when I had more important things to deal with. Like where in the hell was I, unless … no. No!
Familiar walls stared back at me, except the movie and sports poster
s were gone and had been replaced with the odd family photo. Striped blue curtains no longer framed the window and Dawson’s furniture had been sanded down and repainted, but I would know this room anywhere. After all, I’d spent enough time in here back when I was a senior.
Testing my coordination, I edged myself to the side of the bed and rolled up into a sitting position letting my legs dangle onto the floor. The whole room spun and I clamped my eyes shut trying to fend off the lightheadedness. It wasn’t the first time I’d awoken disorientated after getting high, but I’d never woken up in a different room let alone a different house before.
I’d never been that out of it before.
Had I?
My legs quivered as I pushed up onto them and shuffled across the room to the small adjoining bathroom. A wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks and I swayed on the spot to avoid crumpling down at the intensity of it. I just needed a shower and some water, and then I needed to get the hell out of here.
There was only one explanation … Mikey. Somewhere in my fogged-up brain, I could remember his messages of concern. He must have come over to check on me when I didn’t text back. Another wave of shame hit me. It was bad enough Mikey seeing me strung out, but Dawson … I never wanted him to witness this.
Ever.
A door banged downstairs and I froze, my heart beating in my chest, but I stepped into the cool shower and closed the door behind me. The water trickled over my clammy skin, washing away the night before. But it couldn’t rid me of the humiliation—the self-loathing—coursing through my veins. All the soap in the world couldn’t scrub that away; I carried it around with me like a disease.
Eventually, I turned off the spray and stepped out of the shower wrapping myself in one of the fluffy towels hanging on the rail. I dried myself and dressed, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror covering one wall of the small room. I needed to collect myself, to put on my mask ready to face Mikey … Dawson. I couldn’t do anything about the purple bruises now. I had no makeup to cover them.
