Shattered and Spiraling

Chapter 4: Shattered and Spiraling

Three months later

Brixton

She's fucking shattered. She lost her brother and her fiancé at the same time. On the same day. In the same fucking place. The same day Alec proposed to her. The same fucking day he got home from being overseas for a fucking year.

The sound of the crisp fall leaves crunching under my feet is oddly satisfying, keeping me calm as I venture down the street looking for some business. I've been out in the fucking streets more lately, all because Harley is always out now, and I just need to keep an eye on her to make sure she's fucking safe. They're not nice out here in Brockton, even though Southie is much worse, and Harley doesn't know what she's getting herself into.

She's spiraling and completely out of control. We've crossed paths a lot these last few months, and never under the best circumstances either. But we still haven't spoken a single fucking word to each other. But why would we? Shit, she doesn't need to know anything about me, even though I already fucking know everything about her.

And I mean everything.

It's the first actual day of fall, and the brisk, blanketing breeze definitely makes it ring true. New England in the fall is breathtaking. It's my favorite place in the entire fucking world. The colorful leaves and the swirling winds bring me back to my childhood, and the few good memories I have of us playing in a pile of leaves. I slide town in the first place. An obvious drug deal goes down as I approach him from behind, and I'm half expecting to hear the "whoop whoop" of the police sirens any my fidgety hands into my pockets to keep from shaking them to death, all while trying to shut the door to the past and run as fast as I fucking can.

I cross the street and bolt down Montello Ave, spotting the reason I'm on this side of minute now.

That never happens, though. While waiting for him to finish up with his customer, I take a cigarette out of my pack and light it, tucking the filter between the corners of my chapped lips. The breeze whips through again, sending a bone chilling shiver through my body, literally making my fucking teeth chatter.

"What's goin' on, Brix? I didn't think you'd show up."

"Nah, you know me better than that, Trig. If I say I'm gonna be somewhere, then I'm gonna fucking be there."

We shake hands and do a half-armed hug as we slowly walk through the crowd of gangsters, sluts, and fiends gathered all along the sidewalks, protecting their block. Trigger brings me back to his place and locks the door as soon as we walk the fuck in. His demeanor shifts, and suddenly the color drains from his face.

"Yo, what's going on, Trig?"

"I fucked up, Brix. I fucked up big fucking time."

After excessive pacing, Trigger manages to get himself to the couch, where he collapses and slouches against the back, slapping his hands over his face. I sit across from him in the broken recliner, staring at him in disbelief and confusion, wondering what the fuck is going on. He has been acting differently lately. He hasn't been around much, even though we live ten minutes apart. He's secluding himself but partaking in risky fucking behavior. It's almost like he's trying to get his parole revoked so he can go back to fuckin prison. Fuck that. I'm not going back there. Never.

"Trigger, what the fuck are you talking about, bro? You've got me all kinds of fucking confused right now."

Before he says anything, he sits upright and pulls out a pipe, followed by a tiny stamped baggie of crystal meth. My mouth waters as I watch him add thick shards of ice to the bulb and flick the lighter underneath it to melt it into smoke.

"If I'm gonna fuckin tell you what I did, then I'm gonna need to be fucking high. Already got a shot of dope ready too."

"Damn, you going all out tonight, Trig. Must be some big shit to get you freaked the fuck out like this."

"You have no fucking idea, Brix. No fucking idea."

After he hits the bowl, he passes it to me.

I put the mouthpiece between my lips and inhale as I melt the ice. The lethal poisons invade my lungs and disperse throughout my body, igniting a euphoric feeling that washes over me. I blink once, and everything looks different. The colors are more vivid, and shit is already coming to life. I'm not a fan of uppers like this, but if it's in front of me, I'm gonna fucking do it. I thank my parents for my addictive personality and toxic traits almost every fucking day of my life. I'd tell them in person, but, well… I'd rather not get into that topic right now. The heroin burns a hole in my pocket as the meth courses through my body and fills me with the unknown. I need to come down and like now. I don't even wait for Trigger to take his out. I pull the loaded syringe out of my pocket and stick it into a bulging vein in my hand right away. Just like fucking magic, a warm, tingling rush washes over my body, making my shoulders slump and my heart rate dip below normal. I'm calm, though, and I feel like my fucking self.

"Yo, just tell me what you did, man. I have a fucking meeting to get to, and you know I can't be late for that shit."

"Brix, let me fucking tell you what happened…"

Harley

Have you ever loved someone so fucking much that you think you'd die if you ever lost them? Well, I have loved someone that fucking much, and now that he's gone, I literally feel like I fucking died that day with him. My heart is shattered into a million fucking pieces and I can't even begin to think about picking them all up and putting my heart back together.

Without Alec, I don't even know who the fuck I am. But not only did I lose the man who had my heart ever since we were thirteen, but I also lost my twin brother- my literal other half. Hudson and I were extremely close from the minute we were born. We did everything together, and I'm not exaggerating either.

On that fateful fucking day three months ago, Hudson and Alec were gunned down in an attempted carjacking and left for fucking dead in the front seats of Hudson’s car. The number 7 flashes in my mind throughout the day, every fucking day. 7 times Alec was shot, and 7 times Hudson was shot. I'll never fucking forget the significance of that number.

Walking down the street, the sound of gunshots ring out in the air, sending panic rushing through me like a fucking bullet, ripping me apart on the inside. I'm so close to my apartment, but I don't know if I'll make it. I feel like I'm going to fucking pass out, and a dizzy sensation rocks my body and overrides all of my senses. I feel myself stumbling and before I can hit the hard, frozen pavement, strong, tattooed arms lock around my waist and hold me up.

Not just any strong, tattooed arms, but his strong, tattooed arms.

Instead of walking away and leaving me to convulse and withdraw on the sidewalk, he lifts me into his arms, bridal style, and carries me inside our apartment building, braving the steep, atrocious stairs with me in his arms. I lock my weak arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest, squeezing my eyes shut to try and rid the black and white dots and the blurriness from my sight. I don't notice what apartment he takes me to, but he closes the door with his foot, kicking it shut with a loud slam that reverberates in my ears. I'm lying on a bed, and he pulls a blanket over me. The scent lingering on the covers lets me know right away that this isn't my apartment, and this isn't my bed. He brought me to his apartment. And I don't even know his name.

I lie here in misery, feeling the beginning stages of withdrawal come on and torture my body. I shake uncontrollably and shiver as sweat seeps through my pores and coats my skin.

"What's wrong with you, little bird?"

At the sound of his voice, I slowly pull the blanket off my head, and come face to face with the stunning, tattooed man that always seems to be there when I need him. He's like a guardian angel. Or he's a stalker. I guess there's a fine line between the two. In my fucking eyes, anyway. His voice comes out smooth like silk and sweet like honey, with a depth that comes from deep within his chest. It's commanding yet gentle, almost as if he doesn't even know how to speak around me. He's mesmerizing, and I can't stop the obvious sweep my eyes do across his body before I return my gaze to the beautiful, defined features on his face. The tattooed man with the sweet, deep voice, I've decided, is my guardian angel. I mean, he's too fucking gorgeous and quiet to be one of the bad ones. I know looks can be deceiving, but I can't sense a bad bone in his perfectly chiseled body. Get a fucking grip, Harley.

"Are you going to answer me, little bird? Or are you going to look at me with those "Come fuck me" eyes?"

He sits down at the end of his bed, takes out a needle and a bag of dope, and starts mixing a shot right in front of me. No fucks. I like that.

"Why do you call me little bird?"

I sit up and pull my things out of my pocket, following him by mixing up my own shot so I can get rid of the sickness that's spreading throughout my body.

"The first time you decide to speak, and that's what you say?"

"Why though? You know my name."

"Don't worry about it. Why don't you do your shot so you're not sick anymore? You look like you're fucking dy-... ah, shit, I'm fucking sorry, little bird."

"It's fine. I know I look like death. I fucking feel like I'm dying. It's okay to say it, you know."

A silence falls around us, and our eyes lock. Neither of us moves. Instead, we stare at each other, searching our minds for the right thing to say, but the more we sit here in silence, my mind becomes blank. I look away first and focus on finding a vein. I haven't been using long, but my arms are pretty badly scarred already. Drugs are the only things that seem to numb the pain. And I've tried everything to get myself through this, and nothing fucking worked. I finally get the flush in the syringe and push the plunger down fast, trying to get the medicine into my bloodstream as quickly as I can. I look up and see fucking Adonis looking at me, holding an empty needle. The smile on his face brags that he finished first.

"Feel better?"

"Much. Thank you again for saving me from busting my ass."

"Don't mention it, little bird. I'm just glad you're alright."

"Oh? Why?

He huffs, sounding annoyed at my incessant questioning, and gets off the bed to put his rig and spoon out of sight. He lights a cigarette and offers me one, which I take with a thankful nod in return. I never used to smoke, but things change when the ones you love fucking die.

"Look, little bird, as I told you last time we bumped into each other, just because I saved your fucking ass fr-"

"-Saved me from busting my ass on the stairs, yeah, I heard this speech before. Don't worry, I'm gonna go anyway."

I get off the bed and slightly stumble as I make my way to his bedroom door, noticing the layout is the exact same as my apartment. At least I won't get lost trying to leave.

"You didn't have to go storming off. I never told you to fucking leave"

"No, but you clearly don't want me to stay either. I can read people, sorta, and the vibe i-"

"Fuck the vibes, little bird. Stay. Sit back down where you were and get fucking comfortable."

"Um, why would I do that? I don't even know your name."

"You don't need to know my name, little bird."

He lowers his voice, his tone softens, and vulnerability is written all over his beautiful face. Deciding to stop being a brat, I turn back around and reclaim my spot on his bed, pulling his warm, fleece blanket up to my waist. He stands over near the window and gazes out at the autumn wind blowing orange and yellow leaves around in the air, scattering them all around the city.

"You look so lost and broken like you're afraid to learn how to fly again. You have wings but you're too afraid to use them, even though you've gained a few more… that's why I call you little bird…"

Tears fill my eyes and blur my vision as I take in his heartfelt words, laying here unsure of how to process them.

"You'll be able to fly again, little bird. All you need is a little push to feel the wind beneath your wings. You were made to fly, believe it or not, and one day, you'll soar high above the clouds, finally at peace with your demons…"