"Gel, I'm right here. Are you even listening to me?" Leo, or should I say, Alex, snapped his fingers at my face.
I blinked my eyes repeatedly and straightened. "Sorry."
He frowned, turning his head and looking at where I had been staring at. The grin that broke out of his face had me holding back from smashing the bottle of Jack over his goddamn head.
"Trouble in hell, baby girl?" he said teasingly.
I scoffed, downing my glass as I glanced at their group. From what I was seeing, they were all doctors, if the identical blue scrubs they were wearing was anything to go by. And I could plainly see from where I was sitting, Rick making googly eyes at that bitch he calls Laura. They were laughing and my hold on my glass tightened when Rick draped an arm over the back of her chair.
I knew this trick. The prick was sealing the deal.
"Hm… Interesting," I heard Alex hum.
I snapped my eyes to him, his elbow propped on the table while his head rested on his fist, regarding me through narrowed eyes. Brown eyes. Not the original gunmetal blue that he had. He also chopped off his shoulder length hair, opting for a buzz cut, and had dyed it black. He had shaved his beard off and changed the tone of his voice, sounding much more friendlier. He even changed the way he dressed, wearing a freshly pressed white buttoned up shirt and jeans with loafers instead of the ragged clothes and heavy boots he often wore.
He almost sounded and looked like a normal guy. Not the homicidal sex addict that he was. I'd give him props for that.
"What?" I bit out.
"You're jealous."
I was getting sick of being told how I felt.
"I'm not."
He smiled indulgently. "Of course you're not. That's why you look like you're about to rip that poor girl's scalp off," he said, patronizing me as he patted the top of my head. "There, there, child. It's just a boy."
"Are you mocking me?"
"I wouldn't dare." He chuckled, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Wanna give him a show to watch?"
He was more perverted than usual. I blamed the whiskey. He was never a good drunk.
"You're disgusting," I muttered in annoyance.
He snickered, placing a disgustingly wet kiss on my cheek and I sent him an equally disgusted glare. He merely laughed.
I wiped his slobber off my face, huffing in annoyance. "You were talking about Lana?" I muttered, reverting back to our conversation about his daughter.
He smiled softly at the mention of her. "Yeah... she still has the teddy bear I gave her for her second birthday," he said, his voice solemn.
I sighed, glancing over to Rick. "I still think it was a dumbass move to sneak in her bedroom while she was asleep. Creepy too."
"I know. I just had to see her. I only stayed for an hour." I gave him a flat look and he rolled his eyes. "Fine. I stayed until she was about to wake up. Sue me for missing my only child."
I shook my head, pouring myself another glass of whiskey.
"You can't do that again. I can't protect her if you're stalking her. What if someone followed you and found out where she lives?"
He sighed, grasping for his non-existent beard as if he had forgotten it wasn't there anymore.
"No one was following me. Besides, I'll kill them if they were."
"Stop fucking killing people. That's how you got yourself into this mess in the first place."
He let out a long suffering groan. "Are you going to start with that shit again?" he complained as if nagging him about murder was a bad thing.
"No. But you can't see her anymore. I'll send you fucking pictures if you want. Just don't do that shit again."
He shook his head in dismay, reaching for his drink and downing it. "I want her back, Gel. It's killing me."
I knew it was, but unless he wanted to get his only child killed, he wasn't getting her back any time sooner.
"You're dead to her, Archibald," I said, using his real name.
He stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, before recovering with a vicious smile.
"Damn, haven't heard that in a long ass time. I almost forgot what my name was," he muttered wryly before pouring himself another drink. "I'll stick to Alex. It's got more of a ring to it. Who fucking name's a kid Archibald anyways?"
"Imagine if you were named after your dead whore of a mother."
"Vivien doesn't sound too bad," he said with a shrug.
"It does when your father's beating the shit out of you."
Leo, or Alex, or Archibald, or whatever-shit, was the only person outside my family who knew about me. Entirely. And that was only because he followed me around like a shadow for weeks after the shit he pulled with my uncle. One of those weeks I had been served with a good old fashion beating for something I couldn't even remember.
"I don't know why you take his shit. If I were you, I'd have slit his throat in his sleep a long time ago," he muttered, always one to voice out his opinion about my fucked up life.
I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "I don't kill."
He snorted. "One word and I'll do it. Without pay."
I sighed, pressing my temples. "Let's not talk about this. It fucks with my head."
"That's cuz he fucked up your head with all the shit he's done to you."
I sent him a hard glare. "Enough."
He sighed, leaning back, "I just hate that you're not doing anything about it. You deserve better than being treated like a punching bag."
"I said enough," I bit out.
"Fine. Fine. I'll back off," he conceded, pulling me closer to him when I tried to move away. "I care about you, kid, and I hate seeing you ruin your life because of that piece of shit. Stop doing drugs. It won't help."
"Says the sex addict," I muttered.
He laughed, ruffling my hair. "Hey, sex over drugs any day."
I rolled my eyes. He probably spent more money on condoms and prostitutes than food.
"What about alcohol?" I grabbed the whiskey bottle, filling his glass to the brim before doing the same to mine. "Think we'll feel less like shit if we drown ourselves?"
He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "You're the expert, what do you think?"
"Scientists must hold weight to the opinions of their peers, only then can they take a step closer to the truth they are searching for," I recited, taking my glass and raising it towards him. "Walk with me."
He sighed, taking his glass and tapping it against mine. The whiskey spilled ever so slightly and, holding our breaths, we brought our glasses to our my lips.
I swallowed every drop with ease that made me hate myself while Alex choked on it, coughing up harshly. I grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, bringing my lips to his glass and tipping my head back as he spared me the rest of his drink.
It wasn't enough. I needed to drown.
* * *
I was drunk. I was very much sure of that as I struggled to get off the filthy bathroom floor.
It wasn't just my regular drunk, but not nearly as close as my blackout drunk either. I was in the bitter middle. Between a state of living and existing. Grey and neither.
When I was finally able to get my knees to lock, I staggered out of the bathroom stall and practicaly threw myself at the sink. I took a moment of pause after the exertion, trying to keep my equilibrium as I clutched the edges of the porcelain, fighting the black spots that flickered through my vision.
This, kids, is why you don't turn to fucking alcohol for salvation. It's not going to fucking work.
I bent over the sink, gargling water and splashing my face in an attempt to sober myself up. I reached for the tissue holder and slapped the stupid thing when it was empty. I told MJ to always restock the restrooms before opening the damn bar every fucking day.
I sighed, lifting my head to face the mirror. I nearly vomited all over again at the sight I was offered. My face was as white as paper and the black ink that was once my mascara framed my eyes. I could faintly see the vertical scars that Mother had left with her nails a few nights ago. She really dug those shit deep.
I rubbed at my skin, splashing water over and over my face until all that was left was my plain mask. Dull. Empty. Pretty.
I stared at the face of a whore who fucked dirty old men for profit. A worthless piece of shit who accepted anything sent her way. A fucking coward who runs away at the slight bit of sign that someone was threatening to break through her walls.
I was every bad thing one could think of. I just had to keep reminding myself that and not forget about it whenever I thought I had a chance at something better. Someone as good as Frederick Richardson.
He wouldn't want me. Not if he knew everything that I was. He wanted someone as good as him, as perfect as he was. Not someone as fucked up as I was. I was scum and scums like me didn't get to have good guys like him.
I was going to throw up again.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as I took deep conscious breath, focusing on trying to keep the bile down my throat. I already ruined Alex's shirt that I wore. He'll probably hang me if saw the damage.
It was about half past midnight and Alex was already passed out in the booth after trying to beat me at our game of who gets to stand by the end of the night.
I was an alcoholic. He was a sex addict. The game was already made by the first shot.
When whiskey wasn't hitting us fast enough, we went with tequila. It did jack shit because I only felt worse. I never liked tequila. It stung like a bitch.
I laughed. I couldn't even get drunk enough to pass out. I really was fucked up.
I pushed myself off the sink, lighting up a cigarette as I headed out to the hall and I swear, the Gods must be fucking with me because without even the decency of a warning, my knees hit the ground as if in worship.
I felt a sudden touch on my shoulder and instinctively, I recoiled from it, throwing my back against the wall.
"Are you alright?" the guy was saying while standing so fucking close I could see the piss stains on his jeans. "Here. Let me help you."
This filthy motherfucker must be picking a fight right now. If he could just get on the ground with me and smash his own face, I'd gladly take him up on it.
"Don't touch her," I heard another voice say and even in my drunken mind, I recognized it instantly.
Of course he'd be here. Showing up in the most inopportune time at my inconvenience.
"Isn't it my knight in shining blue scrubs?" I raised my eyes, only able to keep my lids open up halfway. "How's it going, babe? It's about damn time you came swooping in to save me from my demise."
Rick didn't respond and simply crouched next to me, bringing himself so close, he was the only thing I had to ground me.
"What?" I mumbled, smiling as he stared me down. "Never seen a mess before, sweetheart?"
He sighed, glancing at the guy who still kept dirtying my line of sight with his filthy presence.
"You need anything, man?" Rick demanded, bringing his gaze back to me. "If not, why don't you go ahead and walk away? She's with me."
Muttering to himself, the guy finally rid us of his existence.
I giggled, tapping Rick's nose. "I'm with you now?"
"Always."
"You're such an ass."
"And you're a bitch."
"Fuck you."
He rolled his eyes. "Make a choice," he said, snatching my hand when I kept tapping his nose. "Go home or come with me."
"You throwing my own words at me right now?" I muttered with furrowed brows.
"It's only fair, don't you think?"
I huffed out a breath, dropping my forehead on his shoulder. I thumped my fist against his chest. I hit him over and over, but he just sat there as if he'd willingly let me tear him apart.
"Make a choice, baby," he murmured into my ear. "Either way, I'm not going anywhere."
I stopped hitting him and slid my arms around his neck. "I'm tired."
"I know, but that's not what I want to hear."
I sighed, pressing my face against his neck. "With you."
He clutched me to him, bringing my legs around his waist, and rose to his feet with ease. Wordlessly, he strode down the hall and out the door. The pace was making me dizzy and I groaned when I felt bile rising again.
"Throw up on me and I'll drop you," Rick muttered as he continued his seemingly endless march.
I bit into his neck, breathing through the nausea and just barely managing to keep it down. When he finally stopped, I heard the sound of a beep. He shuffled me in his arms as he opened the passenger door of the car and then set me down on the seat. I waited till he had moved away to hurl my guts out.
He went into the backseat, rummaging through something before coming up to stand in front of me. He wiped my mouth with a damp towel, cleaningly me gently even though he was so clearly angry. With me, I'm sure.
"Drink," he ordered, holding out an open bottle of water.
He's just too fucking good.
I giggled, taking the bottle. "You know, I never told you, but you look fucking hot in scrubs. I mean, you're always hot but like this?" I gestured at him with a finger, biting my lip as I took him in. "Fucking delectable."
It should be illegal to look this good in freaking scrubs.
"Good to see you had fun with your friend."
I snorted. "Most light weight ass I've ever met. No wonder he fucks away the shit inside his head. He can't hold his damn liquor."
"Apparently, you can't either," he said pointedly, raking his eyes over me. Judging me.
I quirked a brow. Did he just undermine the severity of my alcoholism?
"I think I'm holding myself up pretty well for someone who's been up for a little over a hundred and sixty hours while getting drunk and high at every minute of it," I muttered sardonically.
He frowned and I hated it. I preferred him always smiling but with me, he rarely ever did.
"Sleep deprivation is just as harmful to your health as much as abusing poisonous substances is," he stated matter-of-factly. "It can increase your chances of developing a heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and you can even enter a state of psychosis."
"No one likes a smartass, babe," I pointed out, shaking my head disapprovingly.
"Stop acting so cavalier." He sighed, rubbing his fingers against his forehead. "A week without sleep is insane, Angel. You should be in a hospital right now, not a bar."
I smirked. "Aren't both one and the same?"
I chugged the water bottle and almost immediately, the water spluttered out of my mouth. It was a blessing he had fast reflexes or his pretty blue scrubs would have taken the hit.
How fucking sexy, Angel.
"Do you enjoy being like this?"
"Do I look like I'm enjoying this?" I spat on the ground, shaking my head. "I'm fucking miserable. I just want to die already." I glanced at him, grinning in return to his glare. "Why are you even here? With me. Aren't you supposed to have your dick down that perfect little bitch's throat?" I tilted my head, chuckling mockingly. "Or maybe you already had your dick down her throat. Did she do well? Did you cum? Did she lick you the way I would have done? Or did she suck so badly that you came to me for a good ol cock sucking?"
I hollered like a drunken fool, falling to the floor of the car as my hysterics disrupted what little balance I was managing to keep.
"Can you please stop?" Rick was saying as I continued to laugh.
"Stop what? Being like this?" I gestured at myself. "This is me, Rick. I'm sick. I'm fucked up. I'm a worthless piece of shit!"
He sighed almost irritably. "You're drunk."
"Babe." I snickered, crawling off the floor and out the car. "I've been a drunk ever since I was fifteen. Everything started when I was fifteen. The drugs. The drinking. The sinning. The never ending pain that consumes me to the fucking core. Everything."
I threw my arms up, waving them around to emphasize my point as I spun in front of him.
"Except for the hits and kicks," I said, holding up a finger at that. "That shit started way before all of this. Damn, I used to scream like a little bitch every time the piece of shit whipped me! I would even piss myself every time my head fucked with me in my sleep!"
"Hits and kicks?"
Suddenly, Rick was up against me, his breathing practically burning my skin.
"Is someone hurting you?"
I frowned, trying to get my drunken head together. I was spouting too much shit that my head could barely catch up with my mouth.
"Baby, who's hurting you?"
I closed my eyes, my head suddenly feeling a shit ton heavier. And like a tornado blew past me, my head spun and my consciousness faltered.
I was going to pass out.
"Rick," I mumbled, clutching my head. "Catch me."
Almost immediately, I felt his arms around me, holding me to him. My remaining strength finally gave out and my body felt against him. His scent filled my nostrils. He smelled of roses still.
If I was going to die, I'd like to go like this.
"Goddammit, Angel. When are you going to stop doing this to yourself?"
"When the pain goes away."
"But this doesn't help."
"I know." I sighed, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning against him. "I don't want you to fuck her. Please don't."
"I was never going to."
"I hate fighting with you."
"I hate it too."
"I missed you so bad," I whispered, tightening my hold on him.
He let out a harsh breath. "Then why didn't you call me back? I left you a hundred messages. You worried the shit out of me."
He felt so good in my arms. He was so good. Too good. This wasn't right but it felt right. Fuck.
"You're going to leave me too," I mumbled, burying my face against his chest. "You're too good for me and you're going to leave because I'm bad. They said I can't keep you. They told me you'll leave because I'm worthless. Why am I worthless? Why can't I keep you? I want you so fucking bad it scares me. I don't want you to leave. You can't leave me too. It's not fair. Why can't I have you? Why can't I be good too? Why do you have to leave me too?"
I broke down. The sobs just broke out of me and I didn't know what was happening.
My lungs constricted, begging for air as I struggled to breathe in between the sobs that wrecked me. I couldn't stop. It just kept going and going until I was finally drowning.