Night Sky (Satan's Sinners MC Book 3) (22 page)

The depression has stuck along with the anger, the cravings are at an all time high right now. I hate Ever for leaving and making me do the drugs to forget her. I want her to see what I have become. I want her to see the monster she made. I want them to bring her down here and show her what she turned me into. The memories start flooding my brain and I press my boney hands to my head to try and stop it, but they continue to come.

ONE WEEK AFTER EVER LEFT

★★★

It's been a week since Ever left and I've started slipping farther and farther into a deep depression that I don't think I will be able to get out of. I can't sleep or eat I can't be around anyone, not even my brothers. I have spent the better part of my time inside this small as hell bedroom inside the clubhouse.

I can't go out there. If I do, I will see Crazy Girl and it kills me to look at her. The ghost of Ever's face haunts me whether I am awake or sleeping. If I go out there and see Crazy Girl with the exact same face as the girl I love who left me, I don't think I will be able to handle that. I see my light flashing, letting me know that someone is at the door. Jumping up from my bed, I go answer it, only to have Crazy Girl standing there.

What do you want?
I ask, pulling my brows together.

She starts signing back
. Writer, don't be like that please. I haven't seen you since the day Ever left. I wanted to make sure you are okay. We all love you and we are worried about you.

I don't want to be this way with her, I just can't handle the sight of her right now. I need her to leave me alone. I need them all to leave me alone. I can see how worried she is, with her eyes watery and she is biting the inside of her cheek.

I keep up with my hard exterior while I am dying on the inside. I respond with the truth, harsher than I need to be.
No, I'm not fucking okay. She left me, Z. I can't look at you right now so I need you to leave me the fuck alone..

I don't think she even realizes that it's not only their looks that are the same. They have the same facial expressions and the same mannerisms. I can read Crazy Girl like an open book because of Ever
.

I'll give you some time Writer, but please don't shut me out,
she tells me before walking out of my room and closing the door behind her.

Later that night, I had won my first fight and we were partying hard with the Cobras. That was the first night that I tried coke and I loved it. They don't call it the rich man's drug for nothing. The high may not last that long, but goddamn it numbs you from the inside out. For that little bit of time, I had no problems. I didn't miss the girl that left me.

★★★

I come back from the memory and start thinking about this club. I hate my brothers for making it so goddamn easy for me to get all the drugs. I hate them for always having it around. I hate them for locking me down here. Most of all, I hate them for waiting until it was too late to try and get me to stop using. Another memory comes blasting through my head.

8 MONTHS AFTER EVER LEFT

★★★

It's been about eight months now since Ever left. I have come to realize she won't be back, although I hung onto hope for awhile. The drugs have become a lifeline for me because they dull my senses. They let me go about my day without thinking of her every single minute of every single day. I need that otherwise I can't function. I see her everywhere: outside and inside of this clubhouse, in my dreams, or in the little blonde whores around here. Speaking of which, I just pulled my dick out of one I grabbed up from the dance floor.

In the last eight months, I have ran through the whores around here, always making sure to pick the blonde ones. I don't know why, it's not like I can look at them or kiss them. I get my own cock ready and they either sit on it or it gets shoved down their throats.

I was never this way with Ever. It was always slow and gentle. With Ever, it was the connection, our love and unspoken promises. I miss it. I miss her. I miss her eyes connecting with mine as we both found release, I miss the way she would watch as my tongue pleasured her, I miss her expression as she came undone because of me, but most of all, I miss my home. She was my home. Ever's love, the way she made me laugh, God, I miss laughing, her touch and comfort. Hanger walks up and pats me on the back.

You need to come into my office, Writer,
Hanger says with an angry look on his face. Ah fuck, what did I do now?

Yeah no problem,
I tell him, then get my jeans zipped back up and follow him. I take a seat while he sits on his desk.

Writer, I wanted to do this before bringing the other guys into it.

Do what?
I ask, confused as to what he could be talking about.

You are losing focus, brother. You have been missing church and I have let it slide. I can't anymore though. I know that some of the other brothers have had conversations with you about the drugs. You haven't listened to any of them, Writer. I am going to try and tell you that you gotta stop.

I see the sadness in his eyes, but what right does he have to say shit to me?
How can you say anything to me when you used to get high too?

I did, I won't argue with that, but never once did I let it affect my life. I never let it get in the way of my part in this club. I didn't let it take control of my life, and you have. We don't normally get into others’ business, you know that, but we all care about you, Writer. Your problem is getting out of control. We all see it and you need to stop.

If we don't get into each others’ business, then get the fuck out of mine.
I stand up, throwing the chair back onto the floor and I slam the office door shut as hard as I can. He is right about one thing: he isn't the first to try to get me to quit. Bear, Hunter, Romeo, they all have tried, but they don't understand that it helps me. They don't understand what I am going through.

★★★

I open my eyes to see I am still locked in this cellar, Romeo sitting with me. Why was it so easy for Hanger to give this shit up, but for me, I got so easily addicted? I know the answer. Because of my parents, that's why. I may not be a junkie like them, but it's all the same. I knew if I ever tried the shit, I would turn out this way, which makes me hate my parents. I am fiending for the shit, just like they used to.

I hate them for treating me the way they did and showing me what this shit can do to you. I hate them for not giving me a better life. I hate them for making me rummage through garbage for food to eat or making me go to school in dirty ass clothes. I hate them for the beatings and shoving me in a closet so my whore of a mother could get pounded into for their fucking 'medication'. I hate them for being the reason I am deaf. Just thinking about them brings me to another time and place, one I never wanted to think about again.

WRITER

AGE 10

★★★

“Jaxon, you can come out now,” my mom yells at me from within the house. I have been stuck in my little closet for hours as I heard my mother's sounds. I don't know why my parents put me in the closet. I guess maybe they think I won't hear the strange men that come in and out. They only stay for a few hours and then they are gone, but every time they are here, I am shoved in here, told not to come out and the sounds start coming from my mother.

“Mom, I'm hungry.” I walk into our kitchen, where it is the cleanest because we never have food. My mom sits at the kitchen table with that thing tied around her upper arm. She has a bent up spoon in one hand and a lit lighter in the other. She has to burn her medicine down before she can put it in the needle. She always has to have her medicine or she will be sick. The medicine makes her feel better.

Her droopy eyes look at me as she replies, "We won't have food for the rest of the month, Jaxon. I had to sell all of our food stamps to get my medicine. That's most important, you know that.” Her attention goes back to her medicine.

I look through the empty refrigerator and cabinets anyway. “Mom, my stomach is hurting. I need food.”

“Mommy will give you some of her medicine. M-make it-t a-all bett-er,” she slurs out as her head bobs and her eyes close. The medicine takes hold. I may only be ten, but I know there is something wrong. I know real medicine shouldn't do that to you.

The other parents at school aren't like mine. They are nice to their kids, they are clean, and the moms are pretty. They don't have scabs and scars all over their bodies because of needles.

I walk outside and start heading down the sidewalk. There is a store a couple of blocks away that I usually can sneak some food out of. I get past Mrs. Danvers's house and I hear her yelling my name. I turn back around and head up onto her porch.

“Hi Mrs. Danvers.”

“Hi Jaxon. Where are you going?”

“I was just walking to the store a couple of blocks over.” I use my thumb to point over my shoulder in the direction of the store.

“Well why don't you come inside for a minute?” she asks as she puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me the kindest smile.

“Okay.” Mrs. Danvers is an older lady that lives all by herself. She has always been real nice to me and sometimes I wish I could live with her.

Inside her house, she has lots of pictures of people. She has nice furniture and her house is always so clean with the smell of baking. “I was going to make me a sandwich, would you like one?”

I shake my head no while responding, “I don't want to be any trouble.”

“No trouble at all. You are so skinny, we gotta get some meat on those bones. Now c'mere and sit down.”

I do as she says and for some reason, she ended up feeding me two sandwiches, chips, and fresh baked cookies. She filled my glass full with milk more than once, and all the while she didn't eat anything. She just sat, watching me and asking if I wanted more.

After that day, every time Mrs. Danvers saw me walking she would invite me over. Sometimes I think I purposely went outside just so I could go to her house. She would feed me, talk to me, and have new clean clothes for me. She was my savior for the next year. Then she died in her sleep and I was on my own once again. Things with my parents got worse.

I loved my school days because I would get fed twice a day, but on most weekends I would starve until the following Monday. Through the summers I would have to steal food from stores or wait in an alley for one of the workers to bring out the waste.

Most of the time we were without water, gas, and electricity so I would have to make do. I could wash up at school and hand wash my clothes there. I just carried all my shit in an extra bag that I would leave randomly placed throughout the school, and I could go get it at the end of the day, before I went home. In the summers when I got older, I could just sneak into the pool, wash my clothes and take showers.

★★★

It's the end of week three and I am finally feeling back to my old self. I realize now that what my brothers did for me was a good thing, it was what I needed. I would never have gotten help for myself. All that shit I said about hating Ever and my brothers was just my anger talking. Except I really do hate my parents, but who could blame me for that one?