When Paths Cross. . .

Chapter 4: The Wolf

This chapter contains graphic violence. You've been warned. There is also a song included in this chapter if anyone wishes to listen while reading! 
(Arctic Monkeys - Why'd you only Call me When you're High). 

"So, you followed her home?" Tyler's voice strained on the other end of the phone. I quickened my pace, lip twitching as an awkward silence fell over us both. "What the fuck man." He sighed. I could hear dishes rattling in the sink and feet pacing against our tiled kitchen.

"Ain't a biggie. Just looking." I shrugged, rounding the corner and headed up the sidewalk. I wasn't gonna admit it but ever since I saw blondie in the halls during the early morning, I hadn't been able to get her off my mind. There's something about her that keeps luring me back, something familiar but I ain't been able to figure it out and because of that... I'm slowly going mad. I noticed Max with her, that lying piece of shit. I hope they aren't close or else his beating may become more difficult to do. He's always been a snitch.

I kicked the curb and stumbled on my feet before swiftly correcting myself. That was one way to kick myself outta my head. I was on my way to visit an old friend I hadn't seen in a year. George Pine. Local drug dealer who was told to hit the road and don't come back 'cause of the sleazy scams he'd make with desperate teens, as well as, his cocky actions of deals gone wrong. Since he decided to come back despite explicit warnings– it's my job to send him off once more. I'm glad they put me up to it.

I clenched my fists at my side, feeling the burning ache tighten its grasp on me. The urge for violence was like an intoxicating addiction. If I didn't get it, it would merely strengthen and get stronger as every dull second passed.

"Well," his voice pried me from my thoughts. "Hurry home and make sure you wash up." He said stiffly, hanging up on me. Tucking my phone into my pocket, I scanned a small crowd that had gathered around a dark entrance to one of the nightclubs, blocking my way.

Slipping amongst their ranks– most took notice of me and were quick to step out of the way. "George here?" I question the coked up street-rats. They shook their heads, twitching feverishly as their own urges surged them towards the good-shit. Everyone but one brunette woman– an old scar across her brow and dirt caking her face. No doubt a skirmish over some white powder. She pointed down one of the alleys to my right and muttered, "down at the pub."

I cast a shallow gaze over her before pushing past them and slipped into the alley– too thin for me to walk into at first. Once it widened out, I picked up the pace.

Pushing the wooden door open, I ducked under the frame and stepped inside. The faint noise of the Arctic Monkeys played from a speaker across the room as I made my way to the bar, scanning everyone's face. My gaze landed on the back of his head and my eyes narrowed.

Pulling the bar seat out, I took a seat beside George and turned to face him. I watched him with an unblinking gaze: watching his adam apple bob as he swallowed hard. I examined the wrinkles that settled on his forehead from stress, his red button up freshly cleaned, his graying hair. I danced my eyes down to his hands that rested on the bar-table– examining nervous fingers shaking as they fidgeted amongst one another... but what has me smirking devilishly in this seat is the fear. Fear quivered in his hollow green gaze and it only made my grin widen.

"George." I let the grin fall from my lips as I lifted my chin, waving Sadie: the bar lady– over to get me a whiskey. She hesitated before bending down to grab the bottle. George slid his eyes over to meet my own as he gripped his beer bottle tighter in hand. "Mike." He dipped his head.

"Enjoyin' ya beer?" I tilt my head slightly, watching him shift his weight onto his other leg. "..Not bad." He muttered, with a slight nod. He turned back to his bottle— his best attempt to avoid my burning presence. I reach down into my pocket and slap a $5 on the table as Sadie placed a glass of whiskey in front of me. She took it without saying a word. Lifting the glass cup to my lips, taking a large swig and emptied the cup. Licking the remnants off my lips I turned my gaze back to George.