9. Force of Habit
Chapter nine
Force of Habit
NOAH
Idowned the first glass of hard liquor faster than I should have, choking before it went down properly. Unsatisfied with the burn that coursed down my throat, I sifted through the lower cabinets of my miniature bar where I kept the good stuff.
I had a hankering for the strong shit that made your head swim.
What the fuck was this girl doing to me?
It was bad enough that she was so damn beautiful.
I would somehow become captivated by those emerald eyes that I knew nothing about, but wanted to know everything about.
Part of me wanted to dive in and drown. I wondered what I would discover.
I knew the feeling would be lovely; to get lost in her.
I wanted to know what made her tick, and what made her laugh.
Her smile was heaven.
I didn’t even want to think about how her smile was like the sun. It was all the light I could ever need and more, and oddly, it felt right to be around her. Her aura was inviting and pure. I fucking loved it.
“Stop drinking that shit,” came a voice I knew too well. The most annoying of all, especially tonight.
I turned, the glass not quite reaching my lips, to see Damian leaning against the door frame of my room. He had some nerve.
I narrowed my eyes and gulped the shot down without a single care. “You’re not my father,” I warned through the burn.
“Yeah, you’re fucking lucky I’m not your father.” Damian released the venom calmly, nodding as he entered my space, uninvited.
“Heh. And why is that?” Setting the glass on the counter, I took a long drink from one of my wine bottles, ignoring the escalating temperature in the room. All those urges from the alley were circling back, and I finally found the outlet.
Damian crossed the floor with lightning speed and ripped the wine out of my hands. He threw it to the ground, and the expensive bottle exploded on contact with the floor. My eyes shot open as I watched the thick, red liquid stain the carpet beneath the two of us.
Damian grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. There was fire behind his stare. “Because if I was your father…” he squeezed tightly, and I tried desperately to pull his death grip away, hands clawing at his wrists. “...you wouldn’t get away with half the shit you do now.”
“Do you think I fucking care what you say about what I do?” I screamed. “I don’t give a shit! I’ll do what I want!”
Without pause, Damian pushed me to the side, inspecting the area where I housed my alcohol. “What the hell is this anyway? Your own little bar? This is going to be gone first thing tomorrow.”
I clenched my fists. “Who do you think you are? No one asked you to be part of my life, I don’t need you!”
He snorted and started yanking bottles from the cabinets. “Yeah? Well you don’t need this shit either.”
“Don’t–”
CRASH!
My room reeked of spilled booze and shattered glass. Damian kept throwing bottle after bottle, smashing them against the wall. Ounces of liquid gold—wasted, one after another.
“What the fuck?” I shouted.
Damian turned towards me, his eyes blazing and chest heaving. “THIS STUFF IS KILLING YOU!”
For a moment I was terrified. Somehow, Damian had transformed into David: violent, screaming, and angry.
That was fine. I could be angry too.
“You think you understand everything!” I snarled. “You don’t! You have no idea what I go through seeing mother like this!”
Damian was silent, allowing me to vent.
“You never try to help, you always stick up for that bastard!”
Father. The word held no significance.
“You have no idea the sacrifices I make for this family,” Damian scorned.
I grit my teeth. “I hate it here. And. I. Hate. You.”
There was a terrible hush in the room. All of a sudden, I wished there had been some sound, something to remind me of the stress or rage. Instead of the guilt.
“I’m–”
“Don’t–” Damian snapped, “I don’t want you to apologize.”
I averted my gaze.
“You never realize how hard I work and what I attempt to achieve for this family. But I don’t blame you.
You’re still young. Both you and I had a rough upbringing, so I should have anticipated that you would turn to this crap to help lessen your pain.
We’ve given you too much independence, too fast.” He took a deep breath. “I have failed as a brother haven’t I?”
I shook my head, wanting this to be over. I just wanted to sleep. “No. I just...I don’t know...”
But I did know.
Tell him you’re afraid.
Tell him you want help.
Tell him what’s hidden underneath your bed.
Tell him what’s in the drawer so that he can remove it…
…and get you help.
“I’ll stop.” I insisted, raising my arms.
You won’t.
Damian stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “I want to believe you, Noah.” He met my eyes once more, searching.
What will he see?
“Get some sleep,” he finally ordered as he made his way to the door. “I won’t be here when you wake up, I’m heading to work.”
I nodded, too stunned by the whole situation to speak.
“Oh, and Noah?”
“Yes?”
Damian’s face hardened. “If you ever, and I mean ever, bring an unregistered, loaded gun remotely close to this place again, you’ll have to find some other place to live, do you understand me?”
My jaw clenched.
“I will not have you placing this family in danger,” he added.
I said nothing. Why should I? The real threat had never been my weapon, and Damian knew it. We both stood in silence for a moment longer before Damian released a heavy sigh and reached for the light switch by the door.
“No–” I called out. “Leave it on.”
Damian didn’t question me, letting his fingers trail down the switch until they were down by his side once again.
“That girl, Delane?” he asked, randomly.
“What about her?” My defenses were up, instantly. I wasn’t sure how much more interrogation I could take tonight.
“You like her, don’t you?”
I turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of my hand. “Shut the door.”