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I collapse onto my bed, my body shaking as the chills set in and the tears begin to fall. It’s the first time that I’ve submitted to them. I let myself feel and it tears me to fucking pieces.
It’s the first time that I welcome the sickness, because sometimes in sickness there is no health. There’s only death.
And that’s exactly what I want.
TWENTY-THREE
KILLIAN
I haven’t felt right since I dropped her off. Ainsley was the missing Linc in my life. Even though we were no good for each other, she was what held me together. Without her, I’m a loose fucking cannon and it’s only a matter of time before I end up dead in a ditch.
“What’s going on with you?” Courtland prods as we walk down the street, walking toward the strip club that he deals at. “I know that you’re upset about Ainsley and shit, but dude, it’s been a week.”
“And what the fuck is a week supposed to do, Courtland?” I glance over at him, narrowing my eyes at him. “Please tell me what the goddamn timeline is supposed to look like for this. Is there a time limit for how long I’m allowed to feel like shit and be down and out?”
Courtland shakes his head. “Sorry, bro. I just hate seeing you like this, you know? I understand it, trust me, I do.”
“Doubtful,” I mumble.
Courtland ignores my comment. “There’s no realistic amount of time and that was insensitive for me to say. I know that it’s only been a week, so I don’t know why I really even said that. I just don’t like seeing you all fucked-up over a girl.”
“She isn’t just a girl,” I growl, my knuckles turning white as I clench my fists. “She will never bejust a girl. She’s theonlygirl.”
“Okay, okay,” Courtland gives in, raising his hands in defeat. “I’m not going to argue with you about it. You take your time and I got your back through whatever.”
A harsh laugh falls from my lips. “Don’t you get it, Court? There is no amount of time. Time doesn’t even fucking exist in this situation. This is just how it is. This is all I will ever be now.”
Courtland remains silent as we reach the strip club. The bouncer nods at us, knowing exactly who we are and exactly what we’re here for. He pulls open the door, holding it open for us as we both enter the dim, smokey building. The bass from the speakers pounds loudly, vibrating through the air.
It’s the middle of the afternoon, but it’s still busy in here like it would be on a Friday night. That’s how it works in the gutter. Everything moves on a different wavelength. Everyone has an ulterior motive. The men that are scattered around, drinks in hand or asses in their laps—there’s no telling what they’re really here for, but most likely, it’s not just for a good time.
This isn’t an upscale, high-class establishment. It’s the type of strip club where the girls would quickly drop to their knees and suck your dick for a quick buck to support their habits. It’s all a part of how things work in this rotten corner of the world. You either use or get used.
Courtland walks up to the bar, getting both of us a drink before heading toward the back of the building. We step through a curtain and find ourselves at one of the V.I.P. rooms. It’s where we come to do business, always behind closed doors, because you never know who might have a wandering eye out there.
And like I said, everyone has an ulterior motive. I wouldn’t put it past half of the men here to be opposed to taking us out back and putting some lead in our skulls if they knew the weight we carry in and out of here on any given day. That would speak a lot more to most of them than money. You can’t put a price on money, but you can put whatever price you want on the drugs we’re slinging.
“So, I know that I shouldn’t say this, but someone has to.” Courtland pauses, taking a slow sip of his bourbon as he leans back against the wall. “You didn’t have to go about this the way that you did.”
“Excuse me?” I tilt my head to the side. “Are you trying to say that I was wrong for sending her home?”
Courtland shakes his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “No, you fucking dumbass. She needed to go home and get some type of help, but it didn’t have to go down the way that it did.”
“You really think that she would have willingly left without me?”
“Yeah, I know.” He shrugs as he takes another sip from his glass. “Wishful thinking though. It sucks the way that shit had to go down, but I guess you’re right, man. There’s no way that girl was going home without you.”
I sigh as I set my glass down on the glass table positioned in front of the couch. As much as I’d love to get fucked up, I’m just not feeling it. I don’t want to forget about her and not think about it. I need to feel the pain. It’s something tangible, even if it fucking hurts. It’s the only way that I can keep a clear head and remind myself that this was what I had to do.
Somehow, someway, the pain has to have meaning. It has to be worth it.
“I just want to know how she’s doing,” I say quietly as I run a hand through my messy hair. “As much as I want to hear her voice again, I don’t even need that. If I could just see her, without her seeing me, just to know that she’s okay. That I made the right call.”
Courtland frowns, shaking his head at me. “No fucking way, man. You know that you can’t go there. You did what you felt like you had to do and you need to just let her be.”
“I need to know, Courtland. I know that I could call her mom, but I need to see it with my own eyes.”
“No, you don’t.” He crosses his arms over his chest, giving me a hard glare. “It’s out of your control now. Just let it be.”
