Page 24 of Unbound

Once I feel as steady as I’m going to get, I take a step forward to leave when I look at the mirror above the sink. I catch a last glimpse of Beck and Linc as they walk away, shaking their heads in disappointment.

Focusing on the mirror, the reflection staring back at me, my stomach rolls again. I force down the bile threatening to bring me to my knees. Fury builds inside me and my fists tighten against the cool metal sink. I absolutely despise the person staring back at me. I hate him for what he’s done to me and everyone else. This no good piece of shit dependent on chemicals to get through the day.

Without thinking, my fist slams with the mirror. I nearly collapse and have to brace on the counter to keep from falling. My hands immediately protest and slip against the pieces of broken glass that tear through my skin. Uncontrollable shakes take over and I know I don’t have much time before it I give out completely. I’ve pushed it too far. Asked too much. And in this moment, this one staring at my reflection through cracked shards of glass, I realize that I am truly alone.

And do you want to know what sucks the most? This piece of shit staring back at me, I can’t count on him either.

MY EYES ARE heavy. It’s like trying to open the gates of hell. It’s what I feel like. Hell. Unfortunately, it’s become my normal. I blink several times attempting to clear this disorientation, but nothing helps. I’m confused about last night and tired, the urge to drift back to sleep is there, but my head pounds, drumbeats resonating inside my skull.

Rolling over, I curl into myself, legs sliding over cool sheets. My ribs are sore, like maybe I slept on the floor last night and somehow made it to the bed. It hurts lying like that so I turn over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling trying to remember anything from last night. Pain travels through me, pain in my blood stream and I’m waiting… praying it stops.

I don’t want to admit it, I really don’t, but I know there’s some truth to the pieces I can string together from last night. The bar, the show, and Beck finally telling me how he really feels about me.

What’s ironic is everyone thinks I drink myself into oblivion and get wasted on drugs because I’m selfish and only thinking of myself. They couldn’t be more wrong. Believe me, I’m thelastperson I’m thinking of. It’s her that does this to me.

HER.

She competes with no one and nothing competes with her.

Like my pounding headache, I’d give anythingnotto think of her, and that’s my problem. She’s a compulsion I can’t shake. Squeezing my eyes shut, I see pretty blonde curls and the tremble of my hands and her face glowing under a neon sign the night I told her I loved her for the first time.

I can’t take this anymore. Let me go!

Why can’t she? Why hundreds of miles away can’t my heart just let go?

Bringing my hands up to my face, I cover my eyes trying to ignore the rhythm in my head I can’t make out. My body struggles to move, protests. It screams with shallow beats from the way I’ve destroyed it. It’s finally fighting back. I force myself to remember the way it felt to see my boys, my brothers, looking down at me with disgust and shame.

As I lie here in silence, I can hear murmuring coming from outside my room. I assume it’s Beck and Linc, but I don’t have the energy to really give a shit.

My door creaks open, hits the drywall with a thud. My boys, arms crossed over their chests, with the same look they wore last night. One of complete disgust.

I’m not in the mood to deal with anymore lectures about what a loser I am. “Go away.” Groaning, I cover my face with a pillow.

“Rawley, get the fuck up. We need to talk.” The tone in Beck’s voice tells me he’s in the same mood as he was last night.

Prying the pillow from my face, I stare at him. Or try to. It seems there’s three of him. “Get out.”

“No, I won’t get out. After the shit you pulled last night, you don’t have a choice, Rawley. Get your ass out of that goddamn bed and get out here. We need to talk, and we’re going to do it now.”

“Talk about what?”

He doesn’t answer me and walks out leaving Linc by the door. I shift my eyes in his direction, despite not being able to make his face out.

Fed up, he sighs. “Man… just get dressed and get out here.”

It’s like I’m back at home and my mom is yelling at me for parking on the grass when I come home wasted or after leaving the kitchen a mess. I don’t need lectures from these guys, but it seems in the last few months everyone wants to tell me how to live my life.

Grudgingly, I heave myself up. My stomach immediately lurches at the motion. I squint against the dizziness and the light coming into the room and take a few deep breaths to calm my revolting gut. Standing, I grab a pair of shorts off the floor and pull them on. Reaching for my cigarettes on the nightstand, I make my way out.

When I’m in the living room, Beck’s on the chair and Linc’s standing near the window leaning against the window sill with his arms crossed. I can immediately tell this was Beck’s idea and Linc might agree, but he’s mostly going along with it. Beck’s usually the leader between the two of them.

We stand there, staring at each other, an invisible line of substance drawn between us.

I’m not sure what to do so I sit down. Sitting back, I light the cigarette, taking deep hard drags. It’s really no surprise to me. I know where this conversation is heading. “What the hell is so important that you had to drag me out of bed to talk about it?”

They turn their gazes from me to quickly look at each other. Linc gives Beck a small nod. The on-going indifference between us is unmistakable and increasing every day. I see it. So do they. I don’t want to see it, but it’s inevitable.

“Look, Rawley.” Beck shakes his head, his jaw tight. “The shit you pulled last night, it’s got to stop. Your fuck ups are becoming more frequent and Linc and I… we’re tired of cleaning up your messes.”

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