Page 92 of Twisted Heathens

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Page 92 of Twisted Heathens

I stagger to my feet and head for the door, breezing straight past Phoenix’s grabbing hands. My good mood has evaporated as I start to come down from the high, needing another hit to perk me up again. Too many feelings threaten to take over and I need to purge them. Just as I near my escape, Kade’s voice freezes me on the spot.

“What exactly did my brother do to screw you up so badly?

How fucking dare he.

My heartbeat roars in my ears. Heat flushes my tingling skin and the amusement drains from my body like blood down a plughole. Digging my nails into my palms, I spin to face Kade. Fuck Hudson. I’m done keeping his filthy secret.

“Did you ever wonder how he paid off his drug debts before coming to you?”

The resultant silence is thick with confusion.

“I didn’t think so.” I scoff, turning to Phoenix. “You were a dealer, right? Okay, so tell me what happens when someone doesn’t pay up. Enlighten us.”

He keeps quiet.

I laugh again. “Don’t be shy now. What happens?”

It feels like forever before he finally answers. “You threaten them,” Phoenix mutters, rubbing the back of his neck in shame.

“Precisely. And if that doesn’t work?”

He tries to move towards me, but I lift a shaking hand to halt his steps. “Answer the goddamn question.” I face him, refusing to back down. “Tell Kade exactly what his brother did to me. Why I’m like this. Why I’m stuck here, forced to justify my fucking high to you lowlifes.”

“Brooklyn, please. We just want to help,” Kade pleads.

Ignoring his wide eyes, I shake my head in distaste. They still don’t get it.

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help!”

Eli shoots to his feet, almost as unsteady as me, his face troubled and steps hurried. We’re both breaking apart at the seams but that doesn’t mean I want his help. I backtrack further, unwilling to let him even remotely close to me.

“Will someone answer my question?” I shout. “Or are you all too scared to face the truth?”

“You pay with whatever you have,” Phoenix admits.

Bingo. You pay with whatever the fuck you can offer, regardless of the consequences. All four of us face off, locked in a deadly battle of wills while the DJ’s music pulses through the room. No one will meet my eyes. The truth weighs thick and suffocating between us, the notable absence of the man in question only making it worse.

“You wanted the truth. There you have it,” I sneer at Kade. “You want to know why I’m so screwed up? The answer is simple. Your brother paid his debts with the only thing he had.”

I turn to Phoenix, hating the pity on his face. “Me. He paid with me.”

“Brooke…” Kade begins before trailing off in horror.

He looks at me with unimaginable pain in his eyes. Wiping the stray tears away, I’m sure my eyes reflect the same emotion. Even five years down the line, the wound is festering and deep, forever raw from the lack of resolution with the man that ruined me.

“The fucking blackbird is not the only thing he killed,” I spit, my emotions spiralling out of control. “That’s your truth.”

Marching out while searching for the baggie in my bra, I’m determined to eliminate the agony ripping both my mind and body apart. The twisted feelings of hatred and anger that have somehow escaped their prison to torment me further.

Nobody follows me.

Thirty-One

Brooklyn

Guest Room by ECHOS

Numb. Sweet, meaningless, irrefutable numbness.




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