I apologise every time for taking so long to up date all of my stories, and again I apologise profusely. Life always gets on top of me and I spend more and more time buried under textbooks or working than getting to write sadly. I appreciate every single one of you that sticks with the story, especially those of you that take the time to review. I hope you like the next chapter. It's late and I'm tired so I apologise for any mistakes, they are all my own.
Chapter 3
Rain battered against the windows as she awoke; it felt like the rain drops were pounding against her head as the throbbing beat like a bass drum throughout her skull. Groaning Alex rolled to see where she had landed this time, and it was then she became aware of just how cold the surface against her back was. She found she had fallen asleep on the cold tiles of her kitchen floor in front of the fridge which was wide open. Assumedly she had been hunting for a beer in her drug induced high, anything to prolong the feelings of euphoria for just a little longer before she had to come crashing down to her reality of pain. She would take the pounding of her head and the aching of her muscles against the ache in her heart though. She wasn't ready to face that pain just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be ready to face that pain.
Using the kitchen side she dragged herself to her feet, hanging her head over the cold sink as her stomach rolled from the movement, blindly swiping at the side to find a glass to drink from. She slid her glasses, which she had apparently passed out in; on to the top of her head to hold her hair out of her face as she wretched violently. She laughed mockingly at herself. She used to move the glasses into her hair because she knew exactly what reaction it would instil; fear, lust whatever it was it made her feel powerful and confident and sexy. Now she was just a fucking junkie hanging over her kitchen sink having not seen daylight for the past week at least. She may still have hundreds of thousands of dollars in her bank account but who needs money when the two most important things in your life have up and abandoned you at the drop of a fucking hat. She knew realistically that it wasn't a fair comparison, her Ma hadn't abandoned her but that was what it felt like. Her heart had been ripped out of her chest, cut into a million pieces, spat on and trampled into the ground. She had nothing left. Nothing that was worth shit anyway. Maybe she could buy a luxurious condo on a beach in Spain, a country with no extradition, and have nothing in her life to worry about. But what good was that when she'd sit alone moping and hating herself and everyone else in the world like a kicked puppy licking its wounds?
Sighing deeply she slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, her head heavily hanging into her hands. What the fuck had happened to her? She used to be so badass, cool, confident, sexy, and desired. Now she couldn't even get her shit together. What happened to that the need for control? That had gone out the window the moment all control was ripped from her hands and she had no idea and no intention to get it back. That was a fight for another day when she could bear to look at herself in the mirror again. Getting her shit together would mean dealing with all the problems she wasn't ready to face. Right now all she wanted was to slum around, get high and wasted, and forget that the world fucking existed outside the walls of her Ma's old house. Well her house now. She laughed bitterly once again. Just one more thing to add to her fortune of things she didn't deserve.
She had never hated herself more that she did right now. This was the lowest point of her life and yet she couldn't find any drive to do a damn thing about it. Discarded needles, dirty clothes and dirty dishes demonstrated exactly how she felt about herself right now. She had lost all respect for herself so how could she expect anyone else to have any? She spied her phone laid on the desk in her living room through the open doorway from the kitchen. Fuck, she swore mentally. She couldn't remember the last time she charged it; she probably had 50 missed calls from an array of people within the cartel. Ironic how she had lost Piper because she was never off that damn fucking phone and now Piper was gone she barely touched the damn thing.
Plugging her phone in to charge Alex stumbled her way into the shower to wash away the dusty cobwebs from her mind discarding her clothes along the way. Not that she had any plans for the day apart from lounging around the house until the urge for another hit became too much for her to stand. When did she get this bad? It was like she could feel the addiction clawing at her brain like the monster from the closet that haunts your dreams as a child. Except this wasn't a dream, this was a real life fucking monster in her head. And that monster was herself.
The water helped to wash away some of the negativity that seemed to be all encompassing of her being. That was until a loud banging sounded through her apartment. Swearing and muttering about who the fuck could possibly be at her door, she stepped out of the shower wrapping a towel around herself and placed her glasses on her face. She stomped to the door ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind. Without checking the peep hole she threw the door wide open and opened her mouth to start shouting when she noticed it was Fahri and two of his bigger guys at her door.
"Get dressed," Fahri demanded stepping over the threshold without waiting for an invite into her home.
Fuck, fuck, fuck and double fuck, she thought to herself. She couldn't clean up the evidence of all the drugs she had been using rather than getting ready for import. She was so dead. Her mind raced a million miles a minute trying to think of ways she could bullshit herself out of this situation. In her bedroom she closed the door and fell down against it feeling completely exhausted. Lifting her glasses she rubbed her eyes before slowly picking herself up and finding some clothes to dress in: a rolling stones tee, grey skinny jeans and black high top chucks. Her classic look. She paused to put on eye liner just to buy herself a few more minutes, hoping the familiar routine would relax her slightly but her hands couldn't stop shaking as she applied the liquid gel to her eyelids.
Staring in the mirror she took in her pale and gaunt appearance noting that her clothes looked a little baggier on her than usual. She looked like crap. But she had a turning feeling in her gut that she was about to look a lot worse. That was if they didn't kill her. She thought about running but the only exit from the house was the front door which you could see from the living room where she was sure Fahri would be waiting. There was no way out of it. She had to face the music. Did she actually want to run? She was nothing, and her life was pain. What sort of life was that?
Fahri wouldn't just leave, he would come and find her and nothing good would come of pissing him off further. She leaned her forehead against the cool mirror, taking in the feeling as it spread across her body and caused goosebumps to rise. This might be the last time she felt anything. She wanted to soak up everything about it. Did she care if Fahri killed her? Yes and no. She wished for nothing more than to be able to say a proper goodbye to Piper and tell her how sorry she was and how much she loved her but Piper had left and now she was nothing, nobody, she wouldn't be missed if she was gone.
She sighed; she'd wasted the last 10 minutes in her room. It was time to face her boss. Making her way to the living room she saw Fahri sitting on her sofa, waiting impatiently for her as he took in the heroin bags that lay scattered around the room and the used needles littered across the floor. The two men that flanked him stood intimidatingly in the centre of the room giving her an icy glare.
She cleared her throat nervously; "would anyone like a drink? Coffee? Beer?" Trying to discreetly wipe her sweating palms down the side of her jeans to not let Fahri see just how nervous she was. As her hands began to subtly shake all she could think about was how much she needed a fix.
"No. This is strictly business." Fahri stated in a very cold, detached tone. She sighed and slumped onto the couch. This was going to be bad. Very bad. Fahri sat in silence, simply staring at her, watching her squirm on the sofa under his merciless glare. She was sure tumbleweed could be heard rolling through the ghost town that used to be her sanctuary.
"WHAT THE FUCK VAUSE?" Fahri suddenly exploded. She flinched, wishing with every fibre in her being that the couch would swallow her whole. "You don't get in touch with anyone. You don't do any of the drops you were designated to organise. You lose the organisation fucking millions and I come around to find that you've been sticking all this shit in yourself. You're a fucking waste of space." Fahri spat at her.
"Look, I'm really sorry," Alex began running her hands through her still wet raven locks. "It's just been a really rough time and I can earn the money back," despite the situation her pride would not let her beg to be forgiven.
"Save your fucking bullshit Vause. I don't give a god damn fuck. Shit happens and you have to deal with it and move on. But now I have the bosses threatening my head because of your giant fuck up. You knew the risks when you agreed to work with us of what happens when people fuck up. And you've fucked up real bad Alex. You were one of the best at what you did but you're acting like nothing more than a fucking mule and we can't have such a risk associated with our organisation, you know that." Fahri ranted. He did actually really like the girl before him but it was either his head or hers so the decision was made.
"Seriously I can fix this," she started but Fahri had already risen from the sofa and was giving her a dismissive wave of his hand. With a nod to the men still in her living room Fahri walked out of the door.
Within seconds the men were on top of Alex, hauling her off the couch before the hits started raining down on her body. She felt ribs crack and blood poured down her face from her lip and her nose. Her head started ringing and she could barely comprehend anything but the pain. Something snapped, she couldn't localise the pain, there was just too much. Was it her ribs? Her leg? Her arm? She couldn't hold herself up any longer. She fell to the ground with a heavy thud, curling into the foetal position to protect whatever she could but the blows kept on coming. She felt a foot kick her onto her back before a heavy knee landed on her chest, crushing her. Her lungs seared as she tried to draw air into her lungs through the weight on her chest and the broken ribs. It felt like she was breathing in water and she was drowning. So this is what drowning actually feels like, Everything was a blur as pain took hold of her entire body and her mind faded to black with the punishing blows still being dealt to her broken body. She was left limp on the floor. Is this death?
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