SINNERS & SAINTS ⋆ nikki sixx

28. ✭ my favorite mistake

Nikki's eyes clouded over and he shook his head while he looked at me, almost as if to say "I'm not going to be held accountable for my actions."

I grabbed a hold of his hand, before he turned to my sister. "I'll talk to you however I damn well please. You're in my house, you're using my fucking water and gas, and you're talking to me like I'm the one who's trash. If anyone needs to get a little bit of fucking respect for other people, it's you! Suck my dick, Lauren! Both of you, just fuck off outta here!"

"I love you both, and I'll call you later, but please can you just leave." I frowned, feeling bad, but it was fair. "It'll save an argument between you and Nikki, and It'll make my life a hell of a lot easier. Lord knows I'll be arguing with him if and when he finds out about where I've been today."

I just sighed and let Tommy lead me out of the house as tears started to prick in my eyes. I bit them back in an attempt to make it seem as though I had everything together, but I absolutely didn't.

Picking Vince up from the rehabilitation center was definitely the last thing that I wanted to be doing, but I made a promise to Beth, and what kind of best friend/step sister would I have been if I didn't keep to my word?

Honestly, I didn't see why I had to go. Tommy and Doc were making the trip, Doug also agreeing to tag along until his wife got sick, but for some reason Beth wanted me to go to make sure all was well. I just guessed that it was because Tommy would've let whatever was happening go over his head, and Doc hated her, and would refuse to give her any insight into what was going on.

All I knew was that I had to be in a car with Doc McGhee and Tommy for four hours, and I had to try my damndest to hold myself together. Not only was I hungover, but I was on one hell of a comedown, and it was kicking my ass.

But how hypocritical of me would it have been to turn up at the center fucked up, to congratulate Vince for his new-found zest for life, and complete sobriety?

Very hypocritical.

I fished around in my purse for a few quarters to slot into the vending machine, hands shaking--for obvious reasons--brows knitted together because I was certain that I'd dropped a few in there.

We'd stopped at a gas station because Doc needed to take a piss, Tommy was "famished", and if I didn't get a can of something packed with sugar and caffeine, I might've just dropped dead on the spot.

"What'd you get?" Tommy asked, with a mouthful of food making me feel nauseous, "I got a burrito, a sprite and some chips." He lifted the bag and I nodded, trying not to curl my lips in disgust.

"Just a Pepsi" I gripped the can as if somebody was going to take it from me, but my hands were shaking to the point where I couldn't even feel whether I was even holding it or not.

He stopped chewing before putting the burrito on his lap, taking the can from me and smiling. "Here" droplets of the drink sprayed as he cracked it open, which caused me to wince a little because it was louder than what I expected.

I reciprocated his smile with a quick "thanks", before downing it as fast as I could.

Doc hopped back into the drivers seat, mumbling something about how Tommy should've been the one driving, because he'd "done it for a half hour already", before sticking the keys back into the ignition.