SEVEN'S POV
It's been four months but it feels like a fucking eternity. An eternal misery that is my life.
It's painful, it really is. My chest feels like someone is constantly standing on it and no matter what I do, no matter how many drinks I down, no matter how much coke I shove into my nose, every day that weight continues to grow. It's going to kill me one day, I just know it.
I've thought about beating it to the punch and just ending shit myself, but no matter how many times I purposely take too many drugs I still somehow manage to wake up. I'm too much of a coward to try it any other way. I've held my pistol to my head so many times now but I've been too pussy to pull the trigger. Sometimes I wonder if I'm actually already dead and this is what my hell is. Being unable to escape the feelings I created or deal with the actions I made.
I feel cold as I squint my eyes open. My head hurts, but it always does these days. When my foggy mind finally pieces together my surroundings and what I did last night. I realise I'm in the bathtub. My clothes are damp and I groan remembering yet another failed attempt to snort myself into oblivion.
"For fuck sakes." Not again, how the fuck do I keep surviving this shit. I sit up in the tub, my head slightly spinning but it wears off quickly. It takes me a moment but I eventually get the strength to lift myself out, draw back the shower curtain and leave the bathroom.
"Who put me in the fucking tub." I grouch, peeling my dam shirt off of my body and dropping it to the floor.
"I did." Curby pokes his head from around the corner of the kitchen. I take it he's cooking something.
"Why?" My wet jeans are next. I pull them down my legs and kick them to the side with my shirt, leaving me in my boxers.
"Why do you think Sev?" He answers rhetorically.
Yeah, okay this hasn't been the first time I've woken up wet in the bathtub these last few months. But still, I hate it. Every time I'm ready to unalive myself one of these fuckers intervenes.
"You're pushing it mate." Grim warns when I sit down next to him at the table. A large coffee mug in one hand, the television remote in the other as he surfs the local news channels.
"Pushing what exactly?" I ask, grabbing my tin.
"Your fucking limits kid. Don't you think you've had enough? You almost died last night." Grim frowns at me as I tip out some powder on the table. That's the whole point Grim, I want to say but instead I grab a knife and start dividing up lines.
"It's not the first time." I remark. It's become routine for when I take too much someone will throw me in the tub and soak me down. I'll keep doing it though, till they eventually give up on me like I have.
"Won't be the last." I conclude.
"Your father would be so disappointed in how you're acting." Grim has the nerve to say and I stop my actions to glower over the table at him. What the fuck did he just say?
"Don't speak of my father to me." I warn him. Why the fuck would he think I'd want to hear something like that?
"I will speak of him whenever I please. Your father was a good friend of mine." He justifies and it makes my blood boil.
"Yeah? Well why don't you go ask him where all his good friendships got him, huh?" I goad and finish making my lines but just as I'm about to lean down to take them hot coffee splashes across the table. The dark liquid dissolving my drugs right before my eyes.
"What the fuck!" I yell and push my chair back before the coffee can spill to my lap and burn my naked thighs.
"What the fuck did you do that for!" I yell at Grim as he stands too and Curby comes in to see what I'm yelling about.
"Because I'm sick and tired of seeing you shove that shit up your nose!" Grim steps forward and swipes my tin from the table, throwing its contents across the room. Oh he has a death wish of his own.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I step forward in anger, ready to launch myself at him.
"Hey, hey settle down." Curby pushes me back gently by my shoulder. The urge to swing at him nips at my right arm but I don't. Instead my fists ball at my sides, begging to collide with something.
"Why should I? He just fucking wasted my blow!" I yell at Curby now.
"Good." Curby verbally shoots back at me.
"What did you just say?" I frown at him. Why the fuck is everyone against me right now? What the fuck have I done?
"I said good! I'm glad he did! You don't need anymore of that shit melting your fucking brain." Curby says and I turn on my heels.
"Fuck you guys." What the fuck has gotten into them. This is such bullshit.
"Where are you going Seven?" Grim asks.
"To go find some more coke obviously." I spit over my shoulder.
"No your not, get back here!" Grim instructs and I laugh bitterly at the way he thinks he can boss me around, ignoring him I keep walking away.
"I said get back here Harrison Ivan Wolfric Ricardo!" Grim shouts in a way I've never heard him before. The sound alone would make me stop in my tracks, but the use of my full name halts my feet.
The room is incredibly quiet and I slowly turn back to face Grimmy. Curby is clearly caught off guard by the way Grim and I are staring murderously at each other as he continues to glance between us, uncertainty painted on his face. I'm so pissed off right now I don't know how to express it. Fuck Grim for bringing up my dad and even using my name like that.
"What?" I ask Grim impatiently, I sound like a fucking teenager again. Hearing my name being called like that reminds me of being young and in trouble again.
"Sit down when I'm talking to you." Grimmy says and I don't know why, but my legs obey him and carry me back to the table. I slump heavily into a seat, just to make it obvious that I don't want to be here. I stay silent, my face set in a consistent scowl as both Grim and Curby take seats at the table too. They exchange a few glances before Curby speaks.
"We're just worried about you man." He says gently and I want to laugh. Since when did they give a fuck about me?
"I'm fine." I shrug. I'm most definitely not fine but I'm not fucking telling them that.
"You're using all day every day." Grim argues. The light reflects off his bald head and I try to think of some kind of bald insult to throw at him. I hate the way he used my name against me. I'm not Harrison anymore, I'm Seven. Harry died along with my father.
"So? It's the only thing that helps." I lean back in my chair.
"Helps with what, Sev?" Curby pushes. Here we fucking go. They really want to start this conversation then fine. I'll fucking give them this conversation.
"Everything!" I yell, exasperated already.
"Feeling the way that I do! All my mind does is torture me. It puts me right back in that run down shop, I can smell the dust and shit and all I can see is his bloodied face! It plays over and over as I-" My voice betrays me and cracks. I'm trying my best to keep myself together but I can't seem to do it anymore, I can't hide behind the numbing wall of drugs when having this conversation. If they'd had just let me have a bump I could get through this without crying like a fucking baby. This is exactly why I need my drugs.
"I understand son." Grim tries to comfort me but I shake my head at him.
"I killed him! I killed him with my bare fucking hands and it haunts me. He haunts me!" I admit as tears threaten to form in my eyes. The rings on my knuckles dig into my eyes as I wipe at the tears before they even fall. This is fucking embarrassing and I'm mortified that I'm sitting here in front of them in my fucking boxers on the verge of crying.
"We've all been through it Seven. It's something you have to accept. You killed him but don't forget about the people you saved while doing so." Curby says. What the fuck is that suppose to mean? That my murder doesn't count because I helped a dozen illegal immigrants? What the fuck.
"Is that supposed to justify it?" I ask harshly.
"No, but you shouldn't ignore the good you did because of your guilt." He states.
"We understand what you're going through Seven. We've all had our struggles with the demons that come from this life we live." Grimmy assures me.
"Do you though? Because when I'm not replaying the moment his soul left his body she comes in to torture me instead. She's there, in the back of my mind still. After all this time I can hear her voice, sometimes I swear she's laying in bed next to me at night. But she's not." I don't give a fuck how pathetic I sound night now, or if they tell on me for crying and whining like a little bitch over someone who betrayed me. I am everything Victor was scared I would be come. I am weak.
"It's time you let her go Seven. It's been four months." Curby says, clearly unimpressed that I'm still hung up on her. Is he fucking serious?
"What the fuck do you think I've been trying to do all this time?! All I do is try to get over her, but I'm fucking terrible at it!" I reply harshly. Of course I don't want to think about her. Of course I want to be over her and not feel this way. But I can't help it.
"She is the enemy Seven." Grim reminds me.
"I fucking know that alright! I know I shouldn't still feel this way, I know I shouldn't still care about her but I do! I just can't help but think—" I stop myself from continuing. Curby and Grim look at me expectantly, but I'm so hesitant to speak these next words. They're traitorous and could get me in a lot of trouble. Seeming to understand my hesitation Grimmy speaks.
"You can speak to us Seven." He insists and I look at them closely. Examining them for any signs of deceit but when they both just stare back at me waiting, I continue to speak. This time my words are more quiet and careful as I speak.
"I can't help but think that none of this makes any sense. If she really was a spy for Sergey then what was the plan? Because nothing has changed. It's been four months and we've heard nothing. She didn't do anything and she hasn't tried to since we left. No one has questioned or even tried to challenge Victor's authority. So what was the point of Lily being a spy? I didn't tell her anything important and no one has acted against us this entire time not even Sergey." I blurt what has been wracking my brain for the last four months. I've been waiting on eggshells for some kind of news, some kind of attack that was in place from Sergey but there's been nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"What are you getting at Seven?" Grim itches his scarred face. This is the bit I was nervous to say. I have no idea how they'll take my next accusation but I need to put it out there.
"What if Victor was lying? What if what Lily told me is actually what she believes." I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table, watching them carefully for their reactions. Grim stays quiet as his eyes fall to the table in thought where as Curby shakes his head at me with a frown.
"You can't deny they're her parents Seven. She's a spitting image of Evangeline. And everyone from your dads leadership knew that her and Jacob got married. Isn't that right Grim?" Curby gets Grimmy's confirmation of a nod. But even so Grim's thoughts seem elsewhere.
"I'm not! I'm not denying they're her parents but what if she doesn't know who her parents were? What if she genuinely thinks her parents were just ordinary people who were killed in a home invasion, like she told me? She said she didn't remember anything about them and that her grandma would never speak about them to her. As far as she knows she's a Kapley and not a Costello." I say and they both stare at me but don't say anything. If it's possible that there's any truth to my theory, this proves it to me. They could be hollering and arguing with me about it but their silence to me, proves that it could actually be a possibility.
"What about the evidence of her with Junior?" Curby asks.
"Coincidence?" I offer with a shrug.
"She works at a bottle store in a dodgy part of town, he just happened to go there one time. I was with her once when she met Sergey. It was totally on accident, she had no idea where we were going. But Sergey was there at the bar talking to her and I could tell by her body language she was uncomfortable. She didn't give off the impression she knew who he was at all." I explain and again they both go back to silence as though they're thinking deeply about everything they hear. Debriefing in their mind with each new piece of information or theory I give them. It's strange that their reactions are giving me some kind of weird hope. Maybe there is a chance for things to be different. Maybe there is a chance for me to see Lily again and find out the truth from her like I should have done months ago.
"If that is true, why would Victor lie?" Curby asks the table.
"I don't know. But I want to find out."
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