CHAPTER 13 #2
I nodded, lifting the bottle in my hand closer to my lips. “Well, sweetheart. I don’t make threats. I am one.”
Her eyes narrowed to me as she scanned my face. “The bad boy vibe is strong tonight, love that.”
I shifted myself, towering over her as she stumbled back against the wall of the house, as an uncomfortable shift took over.
“This is the part where you walk away pretending you weren’t curious,” I murmured. “Do yourself a favour and don’t make it awkward.”
I left her there, standing speechless on the back step, as I lifted the bottle, taking a long swig, feeling the burn sliding down my throat.
As the night went on, the music in the house still roared in my ears; it had dulled slightly from the booze, but I’d had enough.
The room had started spinning, and my head felt thick and heavy, as if it were full of cotton wool.
Everyone was wasted, slumping onto me as they passed.
Danny flat out on the kitchen table, half-drooling with crumpled notes in his hand.
I grinned, slowly uncurling his fingers before stashing the lot. “I’ll be having those, thanks.”
My mouth was dry and bitter, but with a sweet aftertaste of some girl’s lip gloss.
I don’t even remember her name; she did tell me, but I didn’t really give a shit.
Her hands were drifting up my top, indicating she wanted more from me than a meaningless make-out session, but she was just a means to an end to pass the time.
I decided to slip out, try my luck elsewhere.
I staggered down the street as the cold air stabbed through my t-shirt, my unsteady feet dragging underneath me as the fuzz built up behind my eyes.
The city was teeming with life, neon signs flickering weakly above packed bars, only enhancing my already spinning mind. Then I found the place.
A narrow alley led towards a black door that was cracked slightly, allowing the music to spill out from inside.
Loud and raw, it called to me as I headed in its direction.
The sign above was nearly faded, just a red skull spray-painted onto warped wood.
A smile crept across my face as I pushed the door open, stepping inside, the music hitting me as it thudded through my chest.
The crowd mainly consisted of leather, heavy eyeliner, and attitude, with dudes wearing patched jackets and girls sporting chain belts and boots that looked like they’d seen a riot.
No eyes sizing me up, just noise and escape, it felt like my kind of bar.
Its dark walls were plastered in faded gig posters and peeling stickers from bands no one remembered, black-and-white Xeroxed chaos frozen in time.
Red neon lights buzzed above like a wasp, casting everything in a dirty crimson.
Behind the bar, a woman with a lip ring and bleached hair poured shots like she was dealing medicine, not poison.
My eyes drifted to the stage as I slid through the crowd, heading for the bar; the singer screamed as if his throat was on fire.
Upon hitting the bar, the room was still shifting slightly under my feet.
I ordered something that burned —maybe vodka.
It didn’t matter; I was getting used to the feeling.
Leaning my back against it, I continued taking in the scene. There was a booth in the corner where two guys argued over a pool of spilled whiskey, and a couple pressed against the back wall like the world didn’t exist.
The hallway to the bathroom was narrow and warped, just like the rest of the place—it stank of bleach and old piss.
My boots stuck to the floor a little with every step, the music dulling behind the walls into a heartbeat.
I wasn’t walking straight. That much was obvious.
Whiskey hummed through my blood, mixing delightfully with the cheap Vodka I’d picked up.
Everything felt soft around the edges, reality was smudged, and I was floating through the middle of it. My head lolling forward as I pushed my way past the others lingering against the walls. My shoulder jolted hard as I then stumbled and caught myself on the door frame to the bathroom.
“Watch it dick!” I snapped, my swaying eyes rising until everything froze. Her. Misfit. Hair darker and messier than I remembered, longer too, mostly shoved beneath a hood that only half-hid the face I knew too well.
The same sharp eyes widened as they fell onto me, the same don’t-fuck-with-me scowl, which I had once grown to appreciate.
She blinked, lips parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected to see me either.
A year and five months. That’s how long it had been since she got carted off to the psych ward.
Since she clawed at my jumper, dragging me towards her, as they put her ass out with the taser.
Since I was left with a quiet cell and a louder mind.
Not that I was counting or anything. I didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned against the frame, desperately trying to focus through the haze and taking her in like a ghost that hadn’t quite decided if it was real yet.
She recovered first. Rolled her eyes, moving to push past me. I swiftly moved, blocking her way.
“Well, well,” I said, mouth curling into something between a smile and a dare. “Didn’t think they’d let you out this soon. You bite your way through the padded walls?”
An instant flash of rage took over her as she pinned me against the wall, a sharp laugh that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Still a cocky twat I see.”
I instantly bit back, “Still crazy I see?” my eyes trying desperately to focus on hers.
“Can fucking show you if you want? Again.” Her feeble attempt at intimidation just fuelled my inner fire, biting down on my bottom lip in amusement.
“You break out of the psych ward so that we can play games again?” We stood there for a moment, her forearm forced against my chest as my laughter built inside me.
“I almost missed you,” raising my hand, pinching my thumb and forefinger closer together, “Almost.” She tilted her head, that dangerous little smirk playing on her lips again.
As she looked down the corridor towards some other beefcake, I tilted my head, trying to recapture her attention, “Did you miss me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself Screech. I’m not here for round two.”
She stepped back, eyes never leaving mine.
“Aww, spoil sport. Here’s me thinking you enjoyed our little games,” my laughter nails on a chalkboard to her.
She turned from me, glancing over her shoulder as she headed back towards the bar, daring me to follow or warning me not to.
Either way, I was already hooked and wasn’t going to miss my chance at a perfect game.
My ears were hammering as the music from the bar pounded once again.
She was already weaving through the crowd by the time I got there.
I didn’t call her name; she wouldn’t have heard me even if I did.
I just followed a few paces back, like we were picking up on an old rhythm we hadn’t rehearsed in months.
I staggered through the haze of bodies and smoke, my shoulders bumping into people as I passed them.
As I reached a clearing, she had vanished, had she slipped out the side exit into the alley?
Either way, I wasn’t about to give up on the chase this early on.
The thrill of her returning like a bull in a china shop coursed through me as I pushed on towards the alley.
The cold hit me like a slap to the face, my head buzzing from the alcohol, and my pulse singing with adrenaline.
The door clanged behind me, and there she was, standing over the very same beefcake from earlier, blood now dripping down the side of his face.
Pained groans left him as she gripped his head in one hand and a brick in the other.
My brow creased in confusion, not fully trusting the scene I was gazing upon.
The alcohol running rampant in my blood distorting my vision, but I swear I saw tendrils of smoke curling its way around her.
She wasn’t smoking.
Fuck, was I really that wasted, hallucinating weird shit, or had that dodgy barmaid slipped something in my drink?
Shaking my head, my eyes fell onto her, glancing back at me, frustration etched into her face.
Did my words so easily trigger her that she thought taking it out on this guy would help get out her anger?
I should have been glad it wasn’t me on the other end of that brick, my head already reeling.
I called out to her, “What are ya doing? Do I need to call for the men in white coats?” A slight chuckle left me as I continued my taunts towards her.
I could tell I’d ruined her fun, taking all enjoyment out of it, whatever the fuck it was.
An angered grunt left her as she then dismissed the guy, allowing him to stumble his way out of the alley.
She turned back, jabbing a finger towards me, accompanied with challenging eyes that brought the best and the worst out of me.
Her voice was low and sharp, “You seem to have a real fucking knack for distracting me.”
My smile grew on my face, “Is that why I’m still alive? Did I distract you? I know you hesitated—”
“Why you following me Screech?” A deep exhale left her as she situated herself against the alleyway wall, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Thought I’d try my luck, after all, she’d nicked a fair few of mine when we were in Juvie.
“Got one of those for me?”
“No. Answer the question.” I took a step forward, closer to her, tucking my hands into my jeans, swaying on the spot.
“Maybe I was hoping we could pick up where we left off.”
She scoffed as she looked down the alley, pushing herself from the wall and turning to head towards the street, “Well, I’m going to have to disappoint … Sorry.” Her mouth twitched as my eyes ran over her.
This wasn’t how this was going to end, throwing me aside like a toy she no longer found enjoyment in. I reached out as she passed me, wrapping my hand around her upper arm, my quick motion startling her as she yanked it from my grip, scowling at me.
Her eyes narrowed to me, “You really think you’re still in some sort of control, don’t you?”
I tilted my head, inching even closer, drunk enough to forget caution. “I think we never finished what we started.”
Another beat of silence. Her jaw worked slightly, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was going to punch me or kiss me. But then she stepped forward, grabbed my shirt, and yanked me so close I could see the threads in her lashes. Her vanilla scent spilling from her.
“You wanna play? Fine, but be careful what you wish for Screech. It might be too late before you realise, we aren’t on a level playing field.” She whispered, voice low and dangerous as she pushed me back from her, releasing her grip.
The alcohol in my blood made me reckless, the kind that makes you forget the weight of the past and lean right into the fire. I watched her walk back towards the door, her hand pausing on the handle as she glanced back at me.
“Happy birthday prick.” Yanking it open and slamming the door shut behind her. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Had she remembered my birthday? The shrink's office, she remembered my fucking birthday from my file? Who remembers that shit. She hadn’t changed a bit.