'Please don't worry,' I said, shooting him my most reassuring smile and doing my best to look completely genuine. 'I know I went too far the other night. I did too much. I knew it before I even went out I think. But you know what it was like. We were all so hyped up, all ready for a top night and when the gear's there on tap, sometimes you just lose your head and go a bit crazy with it. I shouldn't even have gone, but I didn't want to let Davey down. Turns out I did that anyway, like the fucking idiot I am, but honestly, I'm fine now. I'm alright, Ads.'
God, if I ever needed a hit of something, I needed it then. I felt naked under his scrutiny, not literally, but the kind I hated. The kind that made feel like it had all been stripped away, all the bravado, all the fuck-everyone-and-everything show that kept it all at bay. A little something now would help. Just one line or one pill that I could wear like a fucking Wonder Woman cape, and then I'd do the twirl and look him in the eye and everything would be okay again.
He stared hard at me and everything he was thinking, everything he wanted to say hung in the air between us and I knew he was going to say it, knew he was going to finally ask.
'Did you mean to do it, Case? Did you mean to go too far?'
I knew those questions rolled around his head every time I crossed the line. Like I said, sometimes I think he saw more than Davey ever did. Way more. Too much really, and I sort of hated him and adored him for it at the same time. I didn't want him to see. I didn't want him to know, because Addi knowing forced me to feel something other than the numbness that I usually felt and that pissed me off, because if being casual was Davey's thing, then feeling numb was mine.
Another pill, Case? Sure, whatever. Another drink, Case? Sure, whatever. Okay if I shag another girl, Case? Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.
Not that Davey ever asked me that, mind you. He probably didn't feel he needed to. It was just a given. Just like the drugs, just like the booze. All part and parcel of being in this world, of being his girl - the one that stood head and shoulders above the rest, the important one, the one who shared his bed, the one he said he loved and I suppose he did in his own fucked-up Davey way.
And I took it. Accepted it, because I didn't give a shit. Never had. Never would.
Addi was right though. I should have cared. Somewhere inside, I knew I should have given a toss that despite somehow managing to get through another overdose, I was now listening to Davey bang some other girl upstairs just because he wanted to twist the knife. But instead of letting it bother me, I just held my hand over his and helped him twist it a little more, helped him bury it deeper and deeper. It was easier that way, I'd always thought. Easier than acknowledging. Easier than feeling the rot. Easier than looking in the mirror and seeing it there; spore upon spore of black, noxious poison.
I smiled at Addi again and brushed my fingers gently against his cheek, because I knew it would work. Distraction was the best form of defence with him. His dark eyes widened at my touch, his lips parted slightly and I saw everything that I knew he would never say.
After all, it was easy for him to ask me if I really was trying to kill myself, not so easy to tell me that he loved me.
'Fucking lunatic,' I whispered. 'As if you'll ever get rid of me so easy. I'm Casey Brogan, remember? Life and soul of the bloody party.'
'Ha!' he said, grabbing my hand and kissing my knuckles playfully. 'Baby girl, you are the fucking party!'
'She is when she stays on her feet,' said a voice.
I hadn't realised the bed springs had stopped singing.
Davey stood in the doorway, tugging his hair back into a bun, jeans low on his hips and his chest still slightly glistening with perspiration. Only Davey could still look hot after he'd shagged another girl right under my nose.
I pulled away from Addi immediately and returned to the sink, sipping at the water and fixed Davey with my best couldn't-give-a-shit smile.
'Alright, babe?' he said, acting like he hadn't just fucked the girl I hated, even though his eyes were daring me to bite. 'Feeling better?'
'On top of the world,' I said with a grin.
'Glad to hear it,' he sniffed as he walked over to the sofa and grabbed a t-shirt that lay draped over the arm, pulling it over his head. 'Because I need you to go to Oscar's for me.'
Oscar Turnbull . Scum of the fucking earth and maybe even the universe. Big time drug dealer, strip club owner and God knows what else. He was also Davey's source. The head honcho. The spider whose web everyone else was caught in. He distributed to Davey, Davey distributed to his crew, his crew dealt on Davey's club scene. Everyone got paid. Everyone was happy.
Except me. Because Oscar Turnbull, afore mentioned scum of the earth and all-round nasty bastard didn't like dealing with Davey anymore, he liked dealing with me. I put a smile on his face apparently and Oscar didn't smile at just anybody. In fact, Oscar rarely smiled at all unless he was watching someone getting their legs broken and thrown in the river.
Goosebumps rose on my skin. 'For fuck's sake, Davey. Can't you go?'
'No, I can't. He wants you.'
Of course he did.
'I'm not up to it, not today, please babe.'
'I thought you said you felt on top of the world?' He raised a brow and smirked. Fucker.
'Yeah, but come on ...' I groaned.
'You owe me, remember?'
Star appeared in the doorway, doing her best to look out of breath, and still buttoning up her shirt over her ample boobs, even though she'd had plenty of time to do that upstairs. Giggling, she reached out and run one gel-nailed hand along Davey's neck, but he shrugged her off and didn't even look at her. She'd served her purpose and served it well, and now he couldn't give a toss whether she was there or not. Pouting, she glared daggers at me from under her fake eyelashes.
Walking over to where I stood, Davey snaked a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me towards him, kissing me on the lips. I tried hard not to grimace, thinking about how he'd been kissing her just moments before.
'You're going,' he said firmly. 'Oh, and make sure you wear that dress he likes, yeah? The one that shows off how good your arse looks.'
As if to emphasise the point, he reached down and squeezed a handful, before walking away and leaving me standing there with the nausea returning in full-force.
I was sure that if I looked in the mirror now I'd see the rot.
And from the look on Addi'sface, he could see it too.
'Mr. Turnbull will see you now.'Oscar's silverback of a security guy gestured at me to go in, like I was waiting to go into a job interview. I tugged at the hem of my dress as I stood up, feeling stupid dressed like this in the middle of the afternoon and definitelynot like I was dressed for an interview, unless of course the job involved swinging upside down from a pole in Oscar's club, wearing nothing but my knickers and a fake smile.It had been cold outside, my thin jacket barely doing anything to ward off the winter chill or the chill of my three-day comedown, but in Oscar's club, it was as if the heating had been cranked up to make-them-fucking-sweat level. I could already feel my dress sticking to my back.The staccato-beat of the crappy dance music was muffled in the small velvet-draped foyer where I'd been sitting. Through the other door, the girls were already parading the stage in a whirlwind of tassels, bare flesh and hairspray, while half a doz
'You and I have known each other, for what? Over two years now? You come in here, looking knock-out, say the right things, give an old bastard like me a reason to smile. Davey asks you to do this, do that and you do as you're told, all because you know how hard he works, don't you? Because he does. That boy's a fucking grafter, best I've ever had on my patch, I can tell you. What's more, he knows how to run a fucking business. He's discreet and he knows how to make sure all his boys stay discreet. That's why he's successful. He gets up there and does his thing - not that I know fuck all about music, mind you - and he makes sure his boys sell my shit without causing so much as a ripple in the water.'He wet his lips with one sweep of his tongue.'So of course, you can understand why I would be very surprised to hear that Davey's girl would put all that at risk?'I couldn't breathe. I stared at Oscar, wide-eyed, and he just stared right back at me, unflinching, and I
Oscar. Davey. The drugs .Oh, fuck, the drugs.Even then, with that creature behind us, I felt the pull. The stomach-churning, cataclysmic realisation that I was going to have to explain to Davey - and to Oscar - that I'd lost twenty grands worth of gear. My pace slowed, almost like it had back in the alley and I'd been stuck fast in the moving, shifting tide of air, only this time I was the one forcing the world into slow motion.The man tugged on my hand, glancing towards me with irritation.'Come on,' he urged.'Wait... my bag.' It was pathetic. Reckless. I knew it was even as the words left my mouth. Back there, thundering down the alley behind us was something terrible, something that clearly wanted to hurt me and yet I was still thinking about the bloody bag. About Davey banging Star. Seeing Oscar's hand on my thigh.'I have it,' the man replied. 'Now just keep fucking running.'He did have it. I saw it then, the black designer
'O-Oscar?' I managed to stutter. 'You told Oscar?''Of course I did, babe. If someone's after the gear, he needs to know about it, eh?'Right. Of course. The drugs. Twenty grand in pills and thrills. Never mind the fact that someone had chased me through the streets and tried to kill me. Never mind the fact that my feet were screaming and there was blood all over the place. The drugs were what really mattered. They always mattered and I knew that more than anyone.'Great. Okay.' I sniffed, pulling out of his bear-hug and sidling past him out of the bathroom.In the bedroom, I threw off the towel and grabbed a longline t-shirt off the bed, slipping it on over my head. My hair was still wet from the shower and I used the same towel to dry the ends off, trying not to think about my stash of pills in the drawer of the dresser.The coke wasn't going to be enough. Not this time. I could feel it, even as it sent little sparks of heat firing up my veins. A shor
The sunlight reflected off towers of glass and steel, the dazzling shards of light making me blink in the afternoon glare. It was a rare mild day in January, one of those beautiful ones where the skies were a clear blue over London and the sun held the worst of the winter chill at bay.I raised my hand to shield my eyes as I looked up at the great sparkling monolith where Claire worked, wondering, as I always did whenever I came here, what it must look like inside. I'd always imagined some high-tech state-of-the-art office, regurgitated from a high-budget sci-fi film, where the receptionist was a robot, coffee was beamed directly into your coffee cup and everything had a white, clinical feel like a laboratory.But I'd never been inside Claire's office. She'd never invited me, always choosing to meet outside in one of the trendy coffee shops or snooty wine bars she liked so much. I had a feeling she thought that my presence would taint her perfect workspace, that if I so much a
It was hot on the Tube. Stifling. Suffocating.I grasped onto the support rail, my sticky hands preventing me from getting a firm grip as the carriage rocked back and forth through the tunnel. Removing one hand, I wiped my palm down my thigh, before gripping the pole again and doing the same with the other one, not that it seemed to make much difference. A body brushed against mine from behind and I tried to shift into what little gap there was to avoid contact, but it was futile. Passengers were packed into the carriage, bodies crammed so tightly together that personal space would have been nothing short of a miracle.My t-shirt was sticking to my back and I wished there was enough room to take off my jacket, but I had no chance unless a few people decided to get off at the next station. Inhaling deeply, I leant my forehead against the rail and clung to it the best I could, closing my eyes for a few seconds. The heat was starting to make me feel a little dizzy and nause
'You are aware your sister's episode was most likely due to substance abuse?'There was a brief silence, punctuated by the steady beeping from close by. It was the beeping sound that I'd heard first, the insistent noise reaching out to me in the darkness and I'd followed the beeps up to the surface, like I was following a trail of breadcrumbs out of the deepest part of the forest.I knew what it was. I'd heard it before, after I'd OD'd the first time and Addi had panicked and brought me to the hospital. He'd taken me to A&E and left. Davey's orders . I'd woken up surrounded by strange faces with cold, unsympathetic eyes and that irritating beeping sound which haunted my sleep for days afterwards.'Yes. She's on a drug counselling program, she's dealing with it. At least trying to anyway. This is just a blip.'Not Claire. Not my sister. A man's voice.A man's voice that I recognised.I froze just under the surface, scared to open my eyes.'Well, Mr.
When you've lived with liars all your life, it's easy to become something of an expert.Whether they look you dead in the eye or try to avoid your gaze, whether they stay completely still or shift around as if bugs are crawling under their skin, whether their voice hitches up an octave or stays exactly the same. I knew liars. I'd seen liars bare-face fake it to authorities to cover up their dirty crimes. I'd had liars tell me they loved me, while opening the door to monsters. I'd had monsters tell me everything would be okay, as they pushed my face into the pillow.And I stared at a liar every day in the mirror.So yeah, I definitely knew liars, alright.In fact, they only person in my life who never lied, was Davey. He was everything Claire said about him, and more, but the one thing he wasn't, was a liar. Davey told it to you straight. Davey was upfront about everything. If you pissed him off, he'd make sure you knew about it. If he wanted to shag someone else, he was