Rick was giving me the silent treatment as he drove. I had asked him if there was something wrong but he claimed there was nothing, when there obviously fucking was.
It was a twenty minute drive back to his place and I was not going to spend twenty minutes getting suffocated in a car with him.
"Pull over."
He ignored me.
"I said pull over!"
He took a sharp turn before hitting the breaks. I nearly hit my face against the dashboard.
"What the fuck is your goddamn problem?" I yelled the same time he said, "You're going on a date with me."
I took a moment to process this nonsense.
"What?"
"You owe me a date."
I scoffed. "I owe you shit!" I turned, yanking at the door handle but the asshole had put it on child lock. "Open it!"
"No."
"Open it, asshole!"
"No."
I snarled, hitting my fist against the dashboard in frustration.
I was breathing harshly, so pissed off and yet I did not know why. I just was.
"We're going on a date, Angel," he stated like it was an irrefutable fact.
"What's gotten into you, huh?" I turned to face him. "I already told you, if Father-"
"Fuck your father."
"Fuck my-" I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath. "He literally wants to kill you, Rick."
"I don't care."
I bristled with fury. "You don't care, huh?" I spat. "A hundred yards due East. Black sedan. License plate FBV 5025."
"What?"
"It's been following you for weeks, idiot," I said, watching his head jolt back as he turned to look at the car. "Behind it is another black sedan. And that one is following me."
His head whipped back to face me, his eyes clearly showing how he hadn't had one clue of their presence. Stupid fucking idiot.
"If you look farther, about two blocks from us is a black SUV. That's my guy and it's there to make sure none of those Sedan Pricks tries anything. That's how serious my father is about his intent to kill you."
"I still don't care."
"You're out of your mind!"
"I. Don't. Care."
I took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the urge to beat sense into this stupid man.
"Fine. You don't care?"
I rubbed my palms over my face, laughing. I was too fucking sober to deal with this nonsense.
"You think you're brave? You think you can take him on? Get out."
I leaned over him, disengaging the door locks.
"Get out," I repeated, opening his door and unlatching his seatbelt. "Come on. Show me how much you don't care and fuck me on the hood of your car while they watch. Come on. I fucking dare you."
I pushed my door open and jumped out of the car, shrugging my jacket off.
"Get out, sweetheart!" I called, throwing my jacket on the hood.
The street was deserted and it was already nearing 1AM. He sat in the driver seat, glaring at me. I pulled my top over my head and threw it at the windshield.
"Get out, you fucking prick! You don't care, right? Fucking show me! You want a fucking date?! Then fucking earn it!"
I yanked my boot off, throwing it on the hood. Followed by the other. He still hadn't gotten out.
"You're a fucking pussy!" I screamed. "All you do is bitch about how unfair it is that you can't fucking have me! Well, here I am!" I slammed my palms on the hood. "Take me, asshole!"
I yanked my jeans down and threw it over the roof of his car.
I was standing in the middle of the street in my underwear.
I've done worse shit before.
He was fuming. I could tell from where I was standing. I didn't give a shit. I was just so pissed. So fucking tired. So goddamn sick of dealing with this shit every fucking day. Listening to him tell me what's wrong and what's right.
He wanted me to make a stand. Then here it goes. This was my 'fuck you' to my father. He just had to help me out with delivering my point across.
He got out of the car and I felt a rush of adrenaline fill me as he strode towards me, throwing his jacket off.
"You want this?" he hissed, unbuckling his belt. "Right here?"
I smirked. "Fuck yeah."
He yanked me towards him, a hand coming to the back of my head and the other holding my thigh, hiking it up to his waist. Our lips met. Fury sparking a massive wave of burning inferno within us.
I leapt up, wrapping my legs around him and he carried me to the hood of his car. We were biting. Scratching. Tearing each other apart and putting the pieces back into one.
When he thrust inside me, I didn't hold back the scream. I let them have it. Let them hear it. Let them see how much I didn't give a shit anymore.
Fuck it.
Rick's rapid thrusts had the car moving back and forth. He was going at it rough. Licking and biting my skin while I dragged my nails down his back.
It was intoxicating. Exhilarating. I drowned in the pleasure and rush of not caring. I haven't not cared in a long ass time. I haven't not cared since this man vowed to make me care and fucking succeeded. The only thing I truly cared about right this moment. With him on top of me. Fucking me on the hood of his car for the goddamn world to see. Was to come.
And I came like no other. Screaming his name out and not caring about the world.
It wasn't romantic. It was barely passionate. It was a statement. A fucking statement, literally. And it was us. Just us. With not one care of the world.
Everyone can go straight to hell.
"Tomorrow," Rick panted. "I'll pick you up at two."
I grinned. Right then, I didn't care one bit if my father was going to bleed me fucking dry for this.
* * *
I stood in front of the full length mirror, wearing a slinky little black sundress. I was a little out of my depth on how to dress for dates. The dates I often went on were either for a business deal that my father was struggling with or my mother using me to corner a man she wanted to fuck.
I never had to bother about picking out a dress because a stylist would just send me at least three already assembled outfits that I could choose from. But Rick hadn't told me where we were going and I didn't exactly have the most date friendly selection in my personal wardrobe. All I had here were either too slutty or too sloppy for a date with a guy like Rick. The dress I had worn was the only thing I could find that was long enough to cover at least half the length of my thighs.
"Fuck it," I muttered, grabbing my jacket before going out the door.
Jude and Rick were in the living room. The prick had come ridiculously early, saying that he had a feeling that I might bail on him. Jude was keeping his mouth shut, but I knew what he wanted to say. That this was wrong. That I couldn't keep doing this. It's over. Father won't be pleased.
I didn't care. For today, I decided not to care.
Rick took a glance at me and for a moment, he just looked at me, his eyes slowly raking over my frame. I caught him swallow as his eyes lingered on my thigh high fuck-me-fuck-me-now boots. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, blinking his eyes repeatedly. I held back a laugh at his flustered state.
"Thanks. I'm flattered," I quipped, smirking.
He cleared his throat, springing to his feet and handing me the bouquet of pink lilies and forget-me-nots he was crushing in his grip. I brought them to my nose, inhaling their scent.
"Thank you. They're my favorite."
"I know. You told me." He gifted me a smile. "You look beautiful, by the way." I rolled my eyes. "You do," he insisted, taking a step closer. "But seriously, black? I'm starting to think it's the only color you have in your closet."
"I like it. People won't notice me."
He grinned, raising his brows. "Baby, you must be blind. Every person stops and stares at you when you walk in the room."
I scoffed. "They do not."
He chuckled, reaching a hand around my back and pulling me to him. "Well, even if they don't, I know I do."
I pursed my lips, tucking my hair behind my ear, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.
"Shut up," I said lamely.
My brother cleared his throat, as if making his presence known.
"Three feet apart, Thirdy. No inappropriate touching and her name is Angel. Not fucking baby."
Rick pursed his lips, snickering as he took three steps back to humor my brother.
Jude eyed me for a moment, scowling. "Your dress is too short."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and I'm naked underneath. Just give me some money already."
I caught Rick's eyes widened as he practically eye fucked me. It was precious.
"What do you need money for? Aren't you going on a date?" Jude muttered.
"Are you implying that I need a man to pay for me?" I scoffed. "I've got more money in the bank than you do, brother. Give me my card."
He sighed, reaching inside his back pocket and taking out his wallet. He fished out my Centurion and I immediately reached for it, but he held it out of my reach, fixing me with a firm gaze.
"I want your phone on at all times and the card is for food purchases only. Got it?"
I gritted my teeth, glaring at him. He was deliberately trying to humiliate me.
"I won't blow it off on alcohol and drugs. Even though I'm fucking dying inside with this withdrawal bullshit," I spat, snatching the card and stomping my way to the door.
Rick caught up with me while I stood out in the foyer, waiting for the elevator to arrive. I didn't know why I was getting pissed. I couldn't blame my brother. I was a compulsive alcoholic and drug addict. That was not his fault. Last year, I blacked out and somehow blew off two hundred grand in one weekend while I was in New Orleans for the Mardi Gras.
"I didn't know you stopped," Rick said as we got into the lift.
I flexed my jaw, staring at the closed doors. "I only stop when I'm with you."
He nodded, growing quiet for a moment. "How are you doing with the withdrawals?"
"Miserably," I said flatly, feeling myself crave for another taste of my poison.
It was the second day in a row I hadn't had a proper fix, apart from wine at dinner last night. I could last for another day. I just had to stop thinking about it.
"Cutting yourself off abruptly isn't safe though," he said almost hesitantly. "You should ease yourself into it. Take it one step at a time."
I chuckled humorlessly. "Babe, one whiff and I'm a goner. I won't stop till I'm passed out."
He sighed. "You can't do this alone, Angel."
"Don't fucking mock me," I hissed, striding out of the lift as the doors slid open to the lobby.
He was wrong. I was alone in this. He may think he was there for me, but he wasn't truly. He didn't know what it was like to feel like my body was rejecting me. He didn't know what it was like to want to rip my guts out to be rid of the never ending nausea mixed with crippling anxiety. He didn't know the hopelessness that came with sobriety. He didn't know anything. He couldn't know.
We settled in his car and I kept quiet. I didn't want to argue. I didn't want to fight. But it made me so angry that I was feeling like this because all I wanted was to enjoy today. Just one good day. I wanted to have that with him, but I was too fucked up to know how.
"I'm sorry," he said after a while. "For pretending to know what it's like to be in your position. I just..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just want to help."
I reined in the anger. I didn't want to direct my anger towards him. My suffering was not his doing, it was mine. I was stupid enough to think I could go on like this.
"Just stop pushing me."
"Then stop shutting me out."
I pursed my lips. We were going to start arguing. And yelling. And cursing. I was so tired of that shit.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said with a sigh. "Tell me where you're taking me instead."
"I told you, it's a surprise."
"I hate surprises," I muttered. "People shouldn't be put on the spot and be pressured to pretend that they like a surprise even though they don't."
"You'll love this one."
"The only surprise I would be remotely excited about is if you brought Beethoven back to life to perform his greatest masterpieces for me. If that's not what's happening here, both of us are bound to be disappointed."
"Will you just let me do this for you? Please?"
"Fine, but I'll hate it."
He groaned. "You don't even know what it is."
"I don't have to. My anxiety is already ruining it. You might as well just tell me."
"If I do, the excitement will be over and when we get there, you won't appreciate it anymore."
"Okay, so you'd rather I hate it now than hate it later."
He sighed. "Just stop overthinking it."
"That's literally what it means to have anxiety. I can't stop thinking, that's why I can't function sober. I think about everything and obsess over every little thing to the point of paranoia," I said in one breath, feeling my anxiety worsen even more. "You know what? Let me out."
"Wait, just calm down."
"I'm on the verge of having a panic attack. Let me out."
He stopped the car at the curb and I immediately got out, pacing up and down the sidewalk while taking deep breaths.
I couldn't hide it anymore. The withdrawals were peaking and I was entering the stage where I either had a complete mental breakdown or a full blown psychotic episode. Both led to one thing, a dark abyss of suicidal thoughts.
"Baby," I heard Rick call as he watched me. "Tell me what's happening."
I laughed, breathless. "I need a fix, that's what's happening," I said, sounding borderline insane. "This is me two fucking days clean. All the fucked up things inside me that coke and heroin keeps locked up are trying to break out. What you're seeing right now is me in my true form. You still think I'm beautiful, sweetheart?"
He sighed. "Come here."
He reached for me, but I slapped his arm away, shaking my head.
"I don't need a fucking hug. I need a goddamn fix."
"I know." He opened the passenger door. "Get in. We'll get you a drink."
"Nah, see alcohol can't do shit when it comes to this," I said, jabbing my fingers against my temple. "Alcohol is for my pain. It can't handle my insanity. Only heroin can."
He looked so fucking disappointed, it pissed me off.
"I'm not asking you to score some smack for me, Rick," I spat, trying so hard to stay calm. "I told you I would stay with you. I can't do that if I'm high off my fucking mind. You deserve better than that."
He nodded, his face softening in understanding. "What can I do then?"
"You can tell me where you're taking me so I don't end up having a panic attack obsessing over it."
"Okay, come here."
He held out his hand for me and I hesitantly took it, letting him pull me closer. He put a hand on the back of my head and, tentatively, placed a soft kiss on my lips. When I didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss. I parted my lips with a sigh and he darted his tongue inside my mouth, my hands moving of their own accord as I fisted at his shirt and drew him to me.
I pushed him against the side of the car, allowing myself a brief relief from the chaos inside me as I let him consume me. When we pulled away, our foreheads touching, I felt my demons slither back into the dark and I could breathe again without feeling like my chest was being twisted and turned.
"We're going to Coney Island," he said breathlessly.
I stood there with my mouth half open in confusion.