Nick ducked as a vase came surging in his on the path of his forehead. He held his hands up in front of his already bruised and bleeding face. A face that was once soiled in blemishes, but that was ages ago. The now thirty five year old looked worn and tired. But he kept going and that is exactly what got him where he is. He heard the glass connect with the wall behind him and he brought his hands back down and stared with wide eyes at his attacker.
He was currently pressed tight against a wall, a stained wall but a wall none the less and despite the problem in front of him all Nick could think about was how much his suit cost and how he prayed the blood from his lips and nose didn't stain it. He was brought back to reality when a fist connected with his gut. His arms coming up to wrap around himself, as he buckled over and coughed, the air pulled from him in one swift movement.
Nick had just gambled away the last of his and his girlfriend's rent money and suffice it to say Sheryl was more than pissed. She had waited up till four in the morning for Nick to come home. She was armed and ready with a crystal azure $500 vase in hand when he came walking in and despite all the talking down she did she soared it at his head the minute she saw him.
"What the fuck is your problem!" He finally got a breath. She was panting heavily in front of him. Her shoulders heaving as she glared daggers in his direction. Her once soft eyes were now hard and dark. Her lips trembled as she spoke, the red lipstick she had applied earlier the day before smudged slightly at the corners.
"You're fucking addicted Nick! All of our rent money is gone! This is the fifth time this year that we've had to scrape by. Look at this apartment, do you really think it's smart to be practically giving away all the money we owe on it! I can't support us both!" Her voice had cracked at the end. She was tired, so incredibly tired. Nick had promised her he would stop two months ago. But here they were back in the same situation and she had had enough.
"Sheryl baby, listen I can go get it back." Nick was so obviously out of his damn mind. He was drunk when he had come in but the sudden shock to his system had brought his buzz down severely and he was now fully aware of what was happening and how close his lover was to snapping his thick neck. He scoffed, the corners of his lip inching up in a sly smirk 'I'd like to see her try' he thought to himself.
"How are you going to get it back Nick, huh, How?" She fell to the ground, her limbs shaking from exasperation. She looked up at him, her caramel eyes meeting his emerald ones. "I can't do this anymore Nick. You are so unstable. You need help. "She found the strength to stand slowly. She turned and walked.
"What do you mean help?" He called after her; he was thoroughly confused at what she meant. Surely she didn't mean rehab. He followed after her. In their bedroom she had already packed her things, well what was left after they had had to sell all of her jewelry and finer things to scrape up some rent money after Nick's last big loss. She had shoved her clothes and shoes into two large duffel bags and slung one of her shoulder and held the other loosely in her hand.
"I'm leaving Nick; I've called my brother to drive you tomorrow." She spoke as she walked through the hall way and to the front door. She looked back at him one last time and shook her head. "Nick, please go."
He was still very much confused, where was he going? He hissed as his head began to throb, and blindly made his way into the kitchen to fish out a bottle of scotch from a cupboard, pouring the prosperous liquid into a clear Waterford glass and downing it in one large gulp. His teeth clashed as he felt his eyes blur over and he stumbled back for a moment before catching hold of the counter behind him and steadying himself
He shoved his jacket off, forgetting its value and stumbled down deeper into the apartment towards the bedroom once more, popping the buttons on his beryl shirt as he went pushing it from his shoulders as he fell to the bed face first. He groaned as his temples pulsed he could feel his skin crawling as a hangover already began settling in before he passed out.
When Nick woke up, the sun was shining directly into his eyes. He gasped and cupped the one side of his head with his free hand as his other was trapped between him and the mattress. His mouth was dry as a cotton ball, though a puddle of drool soaked into the blankets below him as he slowly but surely clambered up to his knees. His stomach lurched at the sudden smell of brewing coffee. "Sheryl!" His voice was rasped and he could feel the acid bubbling up his throat as he raced for the bathroom just barely making it before he emptied his stomachs contents into the porcelain bowl.
"Here." He heard heavy footsteps from behind him before a tall glass of water was shoved in front of his lips. He looked up slowly finding a very obese very pale young man. He snarled to himself. Sheryl's brother Donavon was possibly the most annoying person he had ever met in his thirty five years of living. He was nearly thirty and still lived with their parents, jobless and as dumb as an ax. But he was strong and Nick had no intention of giving him a hard time taking him where ever he was going. Hopefully to breakfast, nothing sounded better to Nick after throwing up then a nice hot freshly brewed cup of coffee and a stack of toast. But all they had in the house was some old coffee that no longer carried any flavor, any good flavor at least and some moldy bread they had stashed away a while back when Nick sold all their fresh food to a florist down the street for all the dollar bills in her register.
"Shower up let's get going we are already running late." Donavon's voice was rough as he stalked from the room. Nick's nose came up in a scrunch as he stood up slowly, flushing his bile down the toilet. He looked in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffed. He had a nice sized black and blue fist print growing on the side of his cheek. His nose was pink, dried blood crusted underneath his nostrils. His lip was split down the middle. His gaze traveled further down, a large dark mark was forming right in the middle of his well carved stomach.
He sighed to himself and turned on the faucet of the sink below him, he began washing himself there. His teeth and face first. Then moved on to the shower where he soaked in for about thirty minutes before he was rushed, careful not to touch his lip or press to hard near his eye. From the bathroom and a pair of clothes were shoved in his arms.
Not one of his best suits but it would do. Speaking of, he looked around his room only finding the shirt from the night before disposed on the floor right at the beds side. "Well fuck" He could already tell this was going to be a horrid day.
After finding his jacket in the kitchen and having a quick cup of black coffee, which only made the ache in Nick's stomach worse, he guessed they weren't stopping for breakfast. The two men were finally off, speeding down the road. Silence in the air, not awkward for Nick at all. As his head already hurt from the light he didn't need to add the other man's voice to the mix of a hangover.
The road was rather boring, nothing but dessert as they drove through Nevada. Nick had slept most of the way and was unable to see where he was being led. When he opened his eyes he looked up at a large colorful sign. "Freedom Rehab" he rolled his eyes before it hit him. "Rehab!?" He screamed, the larger man next to him not flinching a bit as he pulled up next to the entrance. Where a group of men and women were hovered in a circle singing what loosely reminded Nick of some sort of hymn they sang in those churches he had heard about.
"I am not going to rehab." His thick Northern accent that had never failed him was husked.
"Well it's this one or we ship you back to Connecticut with your family." Donavon's voice trudged through Nick's ears. Nick shivered at the thought of being forced back to his fatherless family up north east and exited the car slowly. His bags at his feet as Donavon drove off.