Black Clouds of Cotton (In Vein Series Book 2)

by C. M. Radcliff

  I laid in bed for a few hours, nursing my hangover while still feeling half-drunk until it was late into the morning. When I finally crawled out from under the covers, the apartment was silent as I ended up on the couch, curled up with the TV remote and a fuzzy blanket. I never saw Sloane last night after she was dancing with Troy. She never came outside, and I refused to go back in, so I took an Uber home without her.

  At one point in the middle of the night, I heard her stumble in and I’m pretty positive that she wasn’t alone. I was fairly drunk though, so I can’t be held responsible for knowing what was really going on. With how silent the apartment is now, it’s hard to tell if Sloane’s in her room sleeping off her own hangover or if I’m here alone. Not that it matters. I’m not much company most days, especially when I’m trapped in the past.

  After scrolling through all of the movies on TV, I settle with Five Feet Apart. It’s one of those movies that you just can’t help but cry along to and right now, I’m in a crying mood. We all need an escape from reality from time to time. Watching sad movies or reading sad books when I’m already feeling down is like a full cleanse. I’m able to feel the emotions and process them, letting them out in the form of teardrops.

  I might not be addressing the real issues, but it’s always good to have a good cry. That’s gotta count for something, or else I’ve just become a masochist.

  I watch the first half of the movie burrowed in the blankets when I glance at the clock, taking note of the time. My stomach betrays me as it growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in God knows how many hours. I don’t have much of an appetite, but my body needs some sustenance to keep going.

  I shouldn’t eat.

  The hunger masks the pain that I feel inside with something more tangible. I welcome the distraction. I trade one type of pain, to feel another. The physical pain, my stomach contracting, it numbs my aching soul.

  This is exactly what I need.

  Pulling myself from the trance I was caught in, I shake my head, pushing away the self-destructive thoughts. This is completely unhealthy. What the fuck am I doing?

  At least it’s not drugs...

  Inhaling sharply, I throw the blanket from my body in a haste. Rising to my feet, I stride into the kitchen in a daze, searching for something to eat. As I go through each cabinet and the fridge, there’s literally nothing that appears appetizing. Physically, I’m hungry, but mentally, I need this numbness more than anything.

  I slam the fridge door shut and glare at it for a moment. Spinning on my heel, I walk back into my room and rip open my top dresser drawer. I’m okay with starving, but I need something to squash my anxiety. Since I got rid of all of my Xanax, the anxiety is much harder to keep at bay and it’s been worse in the past few months. I stopped taking them because of Ander and his addiction, yet he’s pushed me past the point of needing them. I’m to the point where I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without them.

  Reaching into my drawer, I pull out a small stash box and slide open the lid. I pluck the neatly rolled joint from inside and hold it up. This is what has kept me level. I was raised in a generation where weed has been stigmatized, but it’s more of a medicine than a drug. I have yet to find a drug that works wonders like weed does.

  I grab my lighter from my purse and tuck the joint in between my two fingers as I head back out into the living room. Just as I reach the sliding glass door that leads to our balcony, Sloane’s bedroom door opens to my left. Pausing, I turn my head to the side, expecting to see her stumbling through the doorway, when I see Troy sneaking out, pulling his shirt over his head.

  His black mop of hair pokes through the hole, followed by his face. Troy’s eyes instantly meet mine and widen slightly. He falters for a moment, slowly pulling the door shut as quietly as he can. My knuckles turn white as I tighten my grip on the door handle and my chest constricts. My breath catches in my throat, but I force it out.

  “Hey Hadley,” he says quietly with hesitation.

  I blink a few times, wishing he’d vanish, but he’s still there. I return his stare with a blank one of my own. “What’s up?” I reply in a bored tone. My stomach growls, sending shooting pain through my abdomen. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and a wave of euphoria washes over me.

  I can do this.

  “Uhh—” Troy glances around with a shrug and a smirk. “You know how it goes.”

  “Mhm.” I nod with indifference. My hand relaxes on the door handle and I glance down at the joint between my fingers before looking back at him. “You wanna smoke this with me?”

  Neither of us were anticipating those words and it’s evident on Troy’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes and his mouth agape. I’m just as surprised as he is, but fuck it. I’m rolling with this now.

  “Sure?” he answers, but his response comes out as a question. I pull open the sliding door in a rush and step out into the dry heat. Troy follows me outside and we both sit down on the chairs in the shade. I catch sight of the ground below for a moment, feeling the panic rolling inside, but it’s washed away as soon as my stomach growls again.

  Feeling relaxed already, I lean back in my seat, kicking my bare feet up onto the railing and glance at Troy. He sits beside me and stares with his head tilted to the side in confusion. A sigh slips from my lips as I pinch the joint in between them and light the end. Holding it like a cigarette, I take a long pull, sucking the sickly sweet smoke into my lungs and catch Troy’s curious gaze.

  “Don’t make this shit weird, man,” I warn him through the cloud of smoke as I slowly exhale. I take another hit and pass it to him.

  Troy takes the joint hesitantly and cocks an eyebrow. “I mean, it is kind of weird, isn’t it?” He pauses, taking a hit, and blows out a few smoke rings. “I thought you hated me and now you invite me to smoke with you. Is this laced with something? Are you tryin’ to poison me or some shit?”

  Normally, I would have some type of a pained reaction to his words, to the thoughts they invoke. I brace myself, waiting for it, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the weed rolls through my system and my high creeps up on me, mixing with the numbness I already feel.

  I chuckle, shaking my head at him and pluck the joint from between his fingers. “I’m smoking it too, so wouldn’t that be counterproductive if it were tainted?”

  Troy narrows his eyes dramatically. “Not if this is one of those ‘drink the Kool-Aid’ moments.”

  Standing up, I give him the middle finger and walk to the edge of the balcony as I keep hitting the joint. Leaning against the railing, I watch the ashes drifting through the air, slowly falling down as I flick them from the cherry. The ground is so far away, a twinge of unease fills me, but it has no effect on me.

  Troy bumps his shoulder into mine as he stands beside me and looks out over the horizon. A comfortable silence falls upon us as we’re both caught up in our own thoughts. My mind is relatively blank for once and I’m more so caught in a daze, just staring into nothingness, feeling absolutely nothing.

  It’s a lie. No matter how numb I can get, I will always feel something.

  I’ll always feel him.

  “Why do you hate me, Hadley?” Troy asks in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t,” I retort without a second thought. “I never hated you.”

  “But something changed.” He turns his head to look at me. “What did I do to you?”

  Looking back at him, his pain touches the corners of his eyes as they bounce back and forth between mine. I swallow hard over the feelings that bubble inside and threaten to break through this new façade that I’ve created. I sigh and my brow furrows as I look at him with a small smile. “You reminded me of him.”

  10

  Ander

  I walk down the empty street, alone in the dark. The sounds of the city and cars from a few blocks away echo down the alleyways and bounce off the walls of the buildings. I wander aimlessly with nowhere to go and nothing but the clothes on my back and th
e shoes on my feet.

  I’m lucky to still even have that.

  It was well after dark when I finally had woken back up. I was still on the ground, under the bridge, curled up in the fetal position. My brain felt like it was going to explode and the pressure from the swelling was a force to be reckoned with itself. The crackhead that beat me up took my bag with all of my things, leaving me with nothing but a bruised and battered body.

  Staying under that bridge was no longer an option and there wasn’t anything there for me anyway. I gathered all of the energy that I could and hobbled back out onto the street, which brings me to where I am now, wandering with no true destination.

  I limp down the fractured sidewalk, turning the corner onto another side street when I come upon a bar. It’s more like a hole-in-the-wall, literally with the door just being situated in the wall in the middle of the building. The door slams open as two young girls stumble out onto the curb. They’re both completely trashed, coming from what sounds like a frat party inside as the thick smell of weed smoke and the loud house music mix with the night air.

  It’s definitely a dive bar, one that clearly serves jail bait, because there’s no way that either of those girls were old enough to legally drink. Who am I to judge though? The gutter is exactly where I belong and these are the types of establishments that cater to lowlifes, like myself.

  Pulling open the door, I take a deep breath, inhaling the smoky air into my lungs before heading inside. The small space is dark and dingy, it’s dirty and the air is thick and hazy. The music is fucking terrible and the pressure grows inside my eardrums as the bass continues to pound louder and louder, rattling the glasses on the shelves behind the bar.

  I push through the crowded room and slip onto an empty barstool at the bar. I’ve never been here before and there’s probably a reason for that, but anything goes now. I’m not above anything anymore, I’m only below it all.

  The bartender saunters over with her arms pressed against the sides of her tits, trying to make her chest seem like it’s not as flat as the fucking plains out west. It doesn’t work. She merely ruffles the neckline of her cut off T-shirt as she struggles to adjust her breasts.

  “I’m Tracey.” She leans across the bar, blinking her bloodshot brown eyes at me sweetly. “What can I get you, sugar?” She smiles, revealing her stained broken teeth. Tracey is clearly no different than the rest of us. With her age and how rugged she is, I’m sure that she’s a lifer. She’ll keep doing drugs until they finally put her in the ground.

  “Henny, on the rocks,” I tell her, folding my arms on the hard wood as I stare back at her.

  Tracey laughs loudly, slapping the bar with the palm of her hand. She stops abruptly, narrowing her eyes at me and leans closer to me. “Tell me how you’ll be paying first,” she says quietly.

  Fuck. Of course she knows.

  “What?”

  “You gonna be paying with cash or Monopoly money, sugar?” She gives me a toothy grin and a wink. “You’re a good-looking kid, but you can’t suck a dick to get outta this one.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but am abruptly cut off. A warm arm brushes against mine. “I got him, Trace,” a woman says from beside me, her voice as soft and as warm as the bare skin that touches mine. I glance over at her as Tracey walks away, taking in her thick black curls and caked-on makeup. I’ve seen her before, she works one of the corners not far from where Anya tricks. “What are you doing on this side of town?”

  “What do you want?” I ask her in a harsh tone, harsher than I intended. Everyone wants something, no one does shit out of the kindness of their hearts. There’s always some type of an alternative agenda and people only look out for themselves. It’s only expected for me to be skeptical of this chick and whatever her angle is here.

  “You cut straight to the chase.” She beams at me as she flutters her eyelashes. Her long, acrylic nail lands on the side of my arm and she slowly drags it across my skin, down to my wrist. “I have a proposition for you.”

  Boom. There it is. The agenda.

  Tracey walks back over, sliding my glass to me and rolls her eyes when she sees the prostitute beside me tracing imaginary patterns on my arm. With a sigh, she leaves abruptly and I ignore both of the women as I drain my glass with one gulp. The amber liquid burns my throat as I swallow it all. The warmth instantly hits me and quickly spreads throughout my body.

  I’m going to need a lot more than that small glass to actually feel something. I turn back to the black-haired chick with the proposition with a smile. If I wanna get fucked-up, I gotta keep her talking and the drinks coming. “I’m listening,” I tell her as I hold my glass out to Tracey. “I don’t believe I got your name either.”

  “Ruby,” she coos with a wink, extending her hand to shake mine. She doesn’t let go of my hand as she traces the lines on my palm. “You’re lookin’ right now, aren’t you?”

  It’s like every junkie knows this unspoken language, but then again, it takes one to know one. I nod silently, chewing on my chapped bottom lip.

  “I got you on whatever you need, I just need you to do something for me.” She lifts the palm of my hand to her mouth and lightly presses her bright red lips against it, staining my skin. “The guy that I’m meeting here, he pays good money, but he has a very specific taste.”

  “Okay?” My eyebrows pinch together as I take a sip of my fresh drink. “What do you need from me then?”

  “I need you to come along.” Ruby winks as she drops her hand to my thigh. She trails her fingers across my leg and grabs my cock through my shorts. “He’s very big on threesomes.”

  My dick is completely limp as she massages my balls. “So, all I gotta do is fuck you and you can get me some H?”

  Ruby smiles. “Not quite.” She leans closer, her massive tits brushing against my arm as she presses her lips to my ear. “He likes to watch and then he’ll want to fuck you to finish.”

  What the fuck?

  I pull away from her, staring at her in bewilderment as I throw back the rest of the Hennessey. I’ve never been with a guy before and today isn’t exactly the day that I planned on dipping my toes into that pool. But, at the same time, it’s tempting as fuck. I could always go along with her, hopefully get hard enough to fuck her, and then chicken out before the dude tries to shove his cock in my ass.

  “Ander!” I spin around in my seat, feeling the entire room spin with me as I turn in the direction that I heard my name from. Anya pushes through the crowded bar like a bull in a china shop. Her bloodred eyes are wild and her pupils are like a speck of dirt in her irises as she glares at me. She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of me. “What the fuck are you doing here? Why are you here with her?”

  I glance at Ruby as Anya points one of her crooked, skinny fingers at her. Ruby laughs lightly, pushing away from the bar as she stands up. “You know where to find me.” She winks at me and spins on her heel before sauntering away.

  “What the fuck, Ander!” Anya screams at me, abruptly slapping me across the face. The side of my face burns from her hand and I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is utter fucking bullshit. I don’t want to deal with any of this drama. I just want to get high.

  My hand falls to my side and I meet Anya’s eyes as I rise to my feet. “Let’s go,” I tell her as I grab her arm. I block out the sound of her voice, letting the music drown it out as she talks her shit while I lead her out the door. As we step outside, Anya rips her arm from my grip. As she spins around, her disheveled tank top rides up her torso, exposing her protruding stomach.

  My eyes fly to hers in a flash and she cuts them at me as she yanks her shirt back down to cover the bump. “What the hell is going on, Anya?”

  She swallows hard and her face falls. “I’m pregnant.”

  11

  Hadley

  The path to self-destruction is paved with all of the fucks that I no longer give.

  Standing in front of the mirror, I adjust my shorts,
pinching the extra material around my waist together. Turning sideways, my eyes scan the length of my body in disgust. My ribs jut out, sticking through my skin. I run my hand over my side, feeling the ridges of every bone that presents itself. I never intended on losing weight like this, I just like the way it feels to starve my body of the nutrients it needs to survive.

  It’s a precarious dance, attempting to balance a healthy amount of pain from denying myself food and still ensuring that I eat enough to stay alive.

  Grabbing the bottom of my tank top, I pull it over my head and toss it onto the bed. I unbutton my jean shorts and step out of them, throwing them into the mess that is where I sleep. I rummage through my closet for a good five minutes before settling on a flowy black maxi dress. It hangs from my body like a bedsheet, but it isn’t near as revealing as all of the other outfits I had tried on.

  I run my fingers through my long hair and pull it up into a topknot. A small trail of smoke floats toward the ceiling from the lit blunt sitting in the ashtray on my dresser. Picking it up, I hit it hard, drawing the pungent smoke deep into my lungs. As I slowly exhale, I choke on the huge cloud as I blow the smoke out. Instantly, I break out into a sweat as I struggle to breathe through my coughing fit.

  “Dude, you know we can’t smoke in here,” Sloane calls through the crack in the door as she pushes it open with her foot. She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest when her eyes find the blunt in my hand. “Really?”

  “Go big or go home, right?” I retort with a shrug.

  She stares at me for a moment before a smirk forms on her face. “Fuck it,” she says, uncrossing her arms and walks into the room toward me. “Lemme hit that.”

  Sloane takes the blunt from me and drops down onto my bed as she takes a hit. I grab a tube of mascara from my makeup bag and swipe it across my eyelashes. Staring in the mirror, I take in my thin face and cringe inside. I’ve always been thin, but it didn’t take long for it to be noticeable that I’ve been losing even more weight.