Chapter 13:
Jase:
The blood pumped furiously in my head. The thoughts rushed impossibly fast, causing everything to tilt and sway. I pushed myself harder, my paws thumping against the ground painfully, lungs starting to struggle under the strain I was putting them under. But I didn’t care. Why care when everything you thought you knew was a lie?
Digging was all that I could have done. And digging was everything that I had done. A trip to the grandparents was all I needed to confirm what I’d been fearing for the past few days; Dante McCormack was my father. It hadn’t been easy getting the information out of them; hell, I think shattering the plates had been a little bit over the top, but I’d got the answers I’d needed.
Now all I had to do was find Dante.
I wasn’t quite sure of the reason behind it. I didn’t even know what I was going to say to the bastard when- if I found him. All I knew was that…the feeling of complete emptiness needed something to evade it. Getting rid of it was paramount in getting on in life. And talking to Dante was the only thing that I could come up with that could do that.
Sure; I could have talked to Sierra about it, and she could have done all the loving wife bullshit. Telling me that I still had her and Max, and that they were my family. But she wasn’t really, was she? Damn it, she wasn’t even a wolf. She was just some weak human who I’d accidentally marked in a moment of stupidity. Her clinginess had me running in the opposite direction without a second thought. And, although she had given me Max – who right now was the only reason that I wasn’t leaving for good – the fact remained that the number of screws I had had during our marriage had all been better than anything she had ever done to me.
A low growling to the left made me skid to a halt, looking around with wary eyes; I was in foreign territory now, I’d left the safe confines of Knight land far behind. Now came a time to be cautious. Very cautious.
My head swivelled in the direction of the noise, zoning in on the wolf creeping out of the bushes. Well-built and stocky, I knew that we were well matched, but I had experience on my side; he looked too young to have much of a handle on things.
This is McCormack territory, he snarled, flashing his teeth, you’ve no purpose here.
Smirking inwardly, I towered over the wolf, eyes flashing slightly as I sized him up properly.
I’m here to see him, I replied coolly, be a good pup and take me to him.
The wolf growled again, taking a step towards me before suddenly faltering, his head bowed low in an obvious sign of submission.
I’ll take you, he grumbled, turning on his heel, this way. He started to trot off into the night, his hackles still raised, and I followed, an air of smugness about me that hadn’t been there before. I never turned down a fight, but I wasn’t particularly in the mood for arguing with some lower rank wolf.
For a while we walked in silence, neither of us particularly wanting to say anything to the other. Who could blame him? He was a pawn, really. That’s all any of McCormack’s pack was in the end. They were all useless sodding pawns.
All of a sudden, the wolf shifted back into a man, cracking his neck quietly as he walked towards a broken fence in the back of someone’s garden. He held a slat open for me, looking at me with untrusting blue eyes. Well, at least he had a good judge of characters.
I looked up at the house in front of me, which was shrouded in darkness.
Well…Here went nothing.
Rollo:
I didn’t want to intrude. That was what I’d told myself when I’d sneaked out the house early that morning. I didn’t want to intrude on the birthday festivities, especially considering I felt rather guilty for being the reason that Radleigh was currently hobbling around on a gammy leg. Maybe it was just the best for everyone that I stayed away for good.
But where would I go?
A broken family that didn’t want me, and a Pack that would want nothing more than to snap my bloody neck in half. Forget that. No, there was nowhere in particular I was going, I told myself as I stepped off the train. Nowhere in particular.
That in itself was a bare faced lie. I knew where he’d be. I knew the address as well as I knew the marks on my arm. I knew that taking thirty steps down the street and turning a sharp left, meant that I would turn onto his doorstep, and stare up at his disgustingly huge townhouse.
Drug dealing paid well, apparently.
But I could remember it so well. It was like a part of my history engraved on my brain. Not that I could particularly recollect what happened in the house; just minor bits and bobs.
Like Chassy.
And Rain.
The smack.
And Peter MacIntyre; the best dealer in the neighbourhood, with the most beautifully decorated bathroom.
As I stared up at the window, I wondered if he’d retiled. The amount of blood Chassy and I had managed to get across the floor… Of course he would’ve retiled, wouldn’t he? I mean – who exactly wants the blood of two addicts? Unless you were into some sort of cult.
Something weird like that.
My knuckles rapped themselves hesitantly on the wood of the door, breath holding in my chest until I heard the scuffle of someone coming and sliding a bolt across. Suddenly, Pete’s face appeared in the small gap he made, looking mildly confused as he looked up at me.
Then recognition dawned, and his face hardened almost grotesquely. Shoving at my chest, he ushered me out of the doorway, his face drained and old looking. Well, the years hadn’t been kind to someone…
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, shutting the door quietly. I considered him, trying to work out if he was being purposely stupid. Why else would I be here? I wasn’t exactly in for a relapse.
“Rain,” I croaked. “I-Is she here?”
It was as though I half expected him to have given up on her. Given up on her and given her to a proper family. A proper family who could love her properly. Not a drug dealer; that was barely better than a drug addict. And Rain deserved so much more than that. She deserved the world. She deserved everything I couldn’t give he-
“Of course she’s here,” Pete snapped, brown eyes flashing furiously. “She’s here and she’s not seeing you.” I swallowed. Had it really been that long since my last visit? I knew that it had been a few months…
My eyes widened slightly.
I hadn’t been to see Rain for nearly a year.
Christ, could she even remember whoI was?
“Please, Pete,” I begged desperately. “I need to see her. It’s an emergency.” Pete clicked his teeth in the way that a teacher does when they’re disappointed in you. Who the hell was he to judge? He was the one who had gotten me addicted to the stuff. He was the reason that I had turned to the powder when I was having a downer. Pete MacIntyre could pretend all he wanted but, at the end of the day, he was just as caught up in this as I was. By choice or not.
“She’s asleep, Rollo,” he sighed, leaning wearily against the wall. “She’s been up all night ill.”
“She shouldn’t get ill,” I said sharply, narrowing my eyes. “She’s part wolf.”
Pete’s jaw clenched, as though he was severely tempted to lamp me one. Actually, the threat was so apparent that I took a couple of precautionary steps backwards; better to be safe than sorry.
“Rain is a child, Rollo; children get ill. It’s how they build up their immune systems,” he snarled angrily. “You’d probably know that if you hadn’t let her down, time and time again.”
His words stabbed at me like daggers, slowly gouging out any self-belief I had manage to salvage. He was right; I was a fuck up. I had let down one of the most important people in my life. She was all I had left of Chassy, and I had thrown her away like a crisp packet.
“Sh-She’s my wee girl, Pete,” I mumbled. “Just let me see her for a second…”
Pete flinched.
“She’s not your wee girl, Rollo,” he told me quietly. “Not anymore.”
How could words crush your dreams? They were just noise coming out of a person’s mouth. And yet, as he said it, there was a finality in Pete’s voice that made me realise…that I wasn’t going to get to see Rain. Not now, and probably not ever. She was just another thing that I had left behind in the past, albeit grudgingly.
“Look, Rollo,” he sighed, picking something up. He shoved it into my arms before I had a chance to look at it. “She doesn’t need this, and she doesn’t want it; take it and walk away.” Gaping, I looked down at the toy mouse that Pete had thrust at me, eyes widening as I realised what it was.
A gift to Rain. A gift to Rain as a baby. Maybe it was his way of saying that she didn’t need or want me anymore. Could she even remember my face?
Probably not.
And with that, the door was slammed in my face, leaving me on the doorstep and staring at the brass number that rattled in the wind.
Tears stung my eyes, and they rolled down my cheeks in a silent sort of way that they hadn’t done since I was younger. Since Chassy had died. It was a quiet acknowledgement to the fact that – despite wanting to do the right thing – I had never been able to.
I’d had some of the best days of my life in that house. In that house with Chassy, and the smack…everything seemed to just fall into place. It was mental, wasn’t it? The way the memories just flooded back the moment you experienced a small part of nostalgia. But there would always be a small part of me that missed the simplicity of life back then.
In those days, I didn’t have to worry about someone ripping me to shreds, or the possible end of humanity; my means were so much more selfish. Getting a fix was my only vice, and my happiness levels depended very much on whether or not I got it.
Loneliness killed. Did they know that? I’m sure someone must know that. Deep down. People are meant to like being on their own, aren’t they? Wrong. Human beings are social beings. They’re meant to live in the comfort of other people.
So what am I?
A freak.
Yeah.
Freaky Rollo Jenkins.
Somehow, I’d ended up in someone’s bathroom. It was nice; tiles were all in one piece, and the toilet wasn’t covered in vomit like back in that place. No. Everything was clean. I was the dirty one, though. Unwashed, unkempt and unfed, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Imagine that; feeling like you’re not good enough to use a fucking bathroom.
Then again.
I wasn’t exactly using it to take a piss.
The wee bag of brown powder sat on the toilet cistern. If heroin could smile…Oh well, I’d just have to smile for it. I did so, grinning like a dog who could see a big fat juicy bone. Wait. Could dogs smile? Maybe they could. Maybe everyone had underestimated the amazingness of doggy smiles.
What the hell was I talking about? I turned into a great big dog every month, and I couldn’t remember if I could smile. Mind you, I was never exactly in a good place at that moment in time. Normally, Pete would take pity on me and give me a free bag.
I was like…a stoned Labrador on Full Moons.
In fact, it was his house; the bastard lived on the misery of others. Who cared? He managed to cure my misery. He made my misery bearable. Sometimes, he’d give me a room when I’d taken too much. Perhaps he wanted me to die in a comfy bed.
What a nice guy.
I slid my lighter out of my pocket, flicking it a couple of times to make sure it still had enough fluid in it. The beautiful flame danced in front of my eyes, shining and enticing. Like a woman with the most amazing curves in the world.
It wasn’t even my spoon, I thought as I shook out some of the powder into a wee pot. It was Pete’s. Maybe he had a stash of metal spoons for his favourite users. Aw, Pete, you shouldn’t have bothered.
Staring at the stash of things I’d stolen from Pete’s kitchen, I started mixing. Water, check. Lemon juice, check. With more concentration than I held for most things, I poured out some of the brown liquid onto the cool metal of the spoon, balancing it while I picked up my lighter. Watching as the heat gleamed off of the liquid, I felt the smile spread across my lips.
There were no words to explain how much I loved the smack. But there were no words to describe how much I hated being totally dependent on something that wasn’t myself. However, the chances were that heroin was never going to let me down, or leave me. Much better than everything else in my life.
That wasn’t fair.
Pete hadn’t let me down.
Yet.
The needle of the syringe glinted sweetly in the dull light of the bathroom. It was so pretty. Like…Johnny Cash’s voice.
“I hurt myself today,” I sung quietly, picking up the clean syringe, “to see if I still feel.” I continued to hum the tune, as the pressure from the syringe sucked up the contents on the spoon. The metal on tile made a loud clattering on the floor as the piece of cutlery was carelessly tossed aside, all of my senses focused on the gorgeous, pain-killing junk that was enclosed by the glass.
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that’s real.
I tied the cord of Pete’s expensive dressing gown above my elbow, securing it tightly as I pulled it with my teeth and my left hand. When it had started to lose feeling, I held the tip of the needle up to one of the veins, which seemed to pop out even more.
The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting.
I leaned against the bathtub, laughing hysterically as the room started to tilt, the effects of the drug more pronounced because I was a wolf. Head swimming, ecstasy starting to fill me, my eyes rolled back into my head, dulling my already whacked out senses.
Try to kill it all away,
But I remember everything.
The calm washed over me like the waves of a soothing ocean, engulfing me in peace and tranquillity. Why did people worry about things so much? Why? Everything…Everything was so lovely, and nice, and…normal. Aye.
Normal.
“Everyone I know, goes away,” I mumbled, drowsiness starting to overcome me, “In the end.”
Tears stung at my eyes as all the old feelings of desperation came flooding back; the indescribable feeling of self-loathing that came with the memories of being young and being free. I had been stupid to think that Pete hadn’t moved on with Rain, but it didn’t make anything seem any better. Rain was the only person I had in the world, and now…and now she probably wouldn’t know who I was.
Jase:
McCormack’s lip curled as he saw me, leaning back in his seat in the dilapidated kitchen that he seemed to lounge in as though it was the centre of the earth. So this was him; the man that had broken Annie. To be honest, I’d never looked him in the eye before, but now, as my eyes roamed his face, taking in all the small details, I could see the similarities between him and the person who looked back at me in the mirror.
The sting of being lied to ran through me, causing my fists to clench and my teeth to grit. I was going to kill Gordon Knight. He had lied to me about everything. My entire existence had suddenly become some sort of warped lie, purely so he could get his revenge on Dante McCormack. I was just a game piece to him. He had never wanted me – how could he have? I was just a living reminder that…what? My mum had been with Dante McCormack? Had had an affair with Dante McCormack? Just a living reminder that my mum was a slut, really…
“So you saw the light then, kid?” McCormack asked, smirking as he gestured for the wolf that’d brought me in to leave. My jaw set, wondering about what was going to happen next. It was all very well that I’d turned up, but what was I going to say to him?
Suddenly I was transported back to being a child; the awkward silences that intruded on the room whenever I encountered a stranger were very much in my present, and I hated it. I met McCormack’s eyes once more, a frown settling on my features as I saw that he was smiling. Gone was the leer-like expression that had marred his face, and in its place was a genuine smile that seemed to look alien to him.
“He told you then?” he asked quietly, getting to his feet. There was none of the cold bravado which had shrouded him when I’d first arrived, and instead he seemed to be trying to work out – just like I had – what to say.
I nodded silently.
“Took him long enough,” McCormack muttered disdainfully, raking a hand through a head of thinning hair. He smiled weakly, looking around the room. It was as though his personality had shifted; there was none of the cold and calculating persona that he had presented to Gordon and the rest of the Knight pack. In front of me stood a middle aged man, his eyes reflecting nothing but the sorrow of past mistakes.
Just like Gordon.
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” I grumbled darkly, looking at my feet. I felt a hand brush against my shoulder, and my head jerked up to meet McCormack’s gaze. His eyes were dark, like mine, framed by hundreds of tiny lines which crinkled slightly as he held his smile in place.
“I’m glad you are.”
The sentiment in his voice made my stomach churn and made me want to leave there and then. But I needed him, if only for revenge on Gordon Knight for keeping my heritage from me. You see, I’d been thinking it as I ran through the trees; why did I even need the Knight Pack? There was no way that I would end up as Alpha, not with that stupid oaf Radleigh in the way. I wasn’t even a blood relative of the damn Alpha. No, I’d have to get in with McCormack and his pack to get anywhere in this life.
But from the way he was looking at me – with huge, questioning eyes – I doubt it would be too taxing.
I’d just have to roll out some of the old Jase charm.
Rollo:
It all looked the same. Nothing really had changed. The houses were still ugly and broken, the gardens still overgrown and unkempt. It had been years since I’d been back here, years since I’d seen the faces of the family I’d left behind. I was the lucky one; the one that got out. Alex and Janie had never stood a chance. Their dads had been complete wasters – at least mine had come back for me, taken me out of that hell hole before my mam had killed me.
I wasn’t even sure why I was here. What was the point in returning to a place that had caused so much pain? Hell, I wasn’t even sure if they still lived here! What if they didn’t? And I was just barking up the wrong tree?
My head was a mess; memories flashed and tugged at my brain cruelly, causing everything to lurch and spin unceremoniously. I was in such a daze, that I didn’t notice the person walking towards me until they’d walked right into my chest.
A startled grunt escaped their lips, and it took me a moment to take in their features; the girl was young-looking. She couldn’t have been much more than fifteen or sixteen at the very oldest. Her face was startled, and her eyes blue. Very blue. Almost like…
Gaping, I reached out to touch her face. She jerked away, panic radiating from her body.
“Janie?” I squeaked. She stared at me, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Who’re you?” she demanded, her accent thick. I suppose growing up around the scummiest estate in the city didn’t do wonders for a person’s articulation. But this was my wee sister! I hadn’t seen her since…Christ, since she was ten!
“I-It’s me? Rollo?” I swallowed, realising that mam probably had erased every little trace of me from the house. “Your brother?”
Instead of brushing past me and branding me a complete freak, her eyes widened in surprise. She glanced over her shoulder nervously.
“You can’t be here,” she whispered anxiously, pushing at my chest. “She’ll end up screaming the house down.” My heart sank slightly; just another place that didn’t need or want me. “Jesus, Rollo, just leave! I don’t know why you’ve come back when you could stay away!”
“I-I wanted t’see you,” I mumbled lamely, letting her push me to the end of the street. Janie snorted derisively, looking over her shoulder once more to check that we hadn’t been seen.
“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “Go and have a nice life, Rollo; there’s nothing left for you here.” Harsh words…the harsh words of my mother spewing from the mouth of my previously sweet sister. That’s what she did to people; she poisoned them. There was no point in asking Janie where Alex had gone; he was probably in exactly the same boat as my sister was.
“Fine,” I replied gruffly, shrugging off the hurt. “I’ll go.”
She wilted in relief, staring up at me with huge eyes. Her breathing was shaky, as though everything was choking up within her chest.
“You don’t need to be here,” she murmured. “If I could leave, I’d never come back.”
And with that, Janie disappeared down the street, her hurried footfalls echoing around the deserted estate.
I’m three.
She’s throwing the pots around the house, letting them clatter against the floor. Janie’s screaming upstairs, her lungs starting to struggle under the stress of it all. But she doesn’t care. The neighbour’s don’t care. Alex’s disappeared somewhere, and I’m all alone to deal with it. Nothing’s safe anymore. I crouch in the corner of the living room, hoping that she won’t notice me. She never does, though.
Her voice bounces off of the walls, and I can make out a couple of words.
“Bastard.”
“Coward.”
“Liar.”
I don’t know who she’s talking about. It could be anyone. She might as well be talking about the fridge. But I’m scared nevertheless; if Janie doesn’t stop crying, she’ll get a slap. If I go to help her, I know that I’ll be burnt. I suddenly wish I’m old like Alex is and can leave when I want.
“Rollo!” she snaps, coming into the room. I flinch, and my head hits off of the wall. The pain is intense, but it has nothing on the burning sensation which comes when she grabs me by the hair. She’s holding on so tight that I can feel some strands coming away from my scalp; it makes me scream and flail helplessly, begging for help that will never come.
My mother laughs at the panic on my face, and I know I am done for.
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Long time, no write, I suppose. I don't really have much excuse other than the fact that I've lost all motivation to write. It's just one of those things, I suppose. I'm sorry if you've been waiting for a chapter, but to put it bluntly, writing just doesn't make me happy like it used to. That's starting to apply to a lot of things, but I am trying really hard, so if you want to defan, that's cool.
So, this isn't a good chapter. But it's a chapter. And it's taken me so long to write it, but I got there. I'd appreciate it if you read it.
thanks.