Black Clouds of Cotton (In Vein Series Book 2) Read online

  My chest heaves as I breathe heavily and my entire body shakes with a deep rage radiating from inside. I stare down the street in the direction that she drove, watching traffic pass by in a blur. My heart pounds erratically against my ribcage and my throat constricts as I struggle to take a deep breath.

  How the fuck is this happening again?

  I’ve fucked up many times over the years, especially when it’s come to Hadley and me, but this time was truly a misunderstanding. She saw what she wanted to see, heard what she wanted to hear, and made her own judgment and assumption. I can’t deny that all of the evidence is completely stacked against me right now, but she has it all wrong.

  Spinning on my heel, I rush back up the steps and into the house.

  “Anya!” My voice echoes throughout the crumbling building as I bellow her name. Like a vicious feral animal, I stalk through the house searching for her, ready to rip her to shreds. I see nothing but red and I’m fucking seething as I turn the entire first floor upside down. Grabbing anything in sight, I upend the furniture as I make my way through every room. Cups and plates fly through the air, shattering as they crash into the wall and tumble to the floor.

  Ignoring the rest of my housemates as they yell at me, I rush up the stairs to the second floor when I don’t find Anya anywhere downstairs. My door hangs wide open, but I find it empty as I step inside. Walking over to my mattress on the floor, I grab my phone and continue on in my search.

  “Anya!” My voice booms again as I roar her name. I walk down the hall, finding her door closed. Wrapping my hand around the knob, I rip it open with enough force that the wood cracks around the metal screws that hold it in place. It groans loudly as I threaten to pull it from the hinges. I stalk into the room, finding Anya with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

  “What the fuck, Ander?” she barks as her bloodshot eyes meet mine. My chest rises and falls with rapid shallow breaths as I step into her space. She scans my face, her eyes trailing down to my clenched fists and her lips slowly curl upward into a sinister smirk. “Trouble in paradise?”

  My toes touch hers and I loom above her as she tilts her head back to look up at me, still wearing the same look that I want to smack off her fucking face. “What did you say to her?” I seethe.

  “Nothing that wasn’t true,” she replies coolly with a shrug. “It’s not my fault for however she interpreted what I said.”

  A loud whooshing sound fills my ears and the corners of my eyes prick with darkness. I’m sucked into a rage that chases away the heroin in my system and all I can see is red. I wrap my hands around her shoulders, giving her a swift shake. “Bullshit,” I growl in her face. She bites down on her bottom lip as my fingertips dig deeper into her skin. “You told her this is my fucking baby, didn’t you?”

  “Should I have?” she croons, looking up at me through her thin lashes. “Should I have told her that after you overdosed, it was me that you came running to instead of her? I could tell her that I let you fuck me rough too, because we both know that you like that and it’s one thing that she could never have given you. She would never have to know that it hasn’t happened… yet.”

  My heart skips a beat or ten in my chest and the air is sucked out of my lungs from the rage as I lose control and it slips through my fingers like a handful of sand. A roar tears through me and I lift Anya off her feet, hauling her backward until her back slams against the wall. “FUCK YOU!” I scream in her face as she yelps loudly. I drive her flush against the drywall with more force than I intend, but I’ve lost every single fuck I never had. “You have done nothing but ruin my fucking life. I sold my soul to the fucking devil in exchange for that first bag of dope that you gave me and you make me pay every goddamn day!”

  “Let go of me, Ander!” she cries out as she latches on to my forearms. Her long nails dig into my skin as she attempts to wriggle free from my grip. My hands tighten on her shoulders, pulling her away from the wall an inch before slamming her back into it. Her head whips back from the force, smacking against the chipped drywall.

  Crying out from the blow to the back of her head, Anya twists within my hands, attempting to break free. My vision is completely blurred as the fury runs rampant through me. She manages to swipe one hand at my face, tearing at my skin with the sharp tips of her nails. I’m drawn from my fog, from the darkness, and met with the reality of what the fuck is going on.

  Staring down at her fear-stricken face, I watch as the tears smear her mascara, freely flowing down her sunken cheeks. She continues to struggle within my tight grip and sporadically kicks her feet at my shins.

  Fuck.

  I let go of her in a rush, quickly stepping away from her as she crumples onto the floor.

  “What the fuck was that?” she screams at me as she wraps her arms around her knees. “Get the fuck out of my room!”

  I’m frozen in place and my chest continues to heave as the rage still lingers inside. Running my hands over the top of my head, I let out a shaky breath. My mind races, but none of my thoughts are tangible. We’re both in shock as she stares up at me, watching me warily with bloodred eyes. I stare back at her, mirroring her expression.

  “I fucking hate you,” I breathe as the ice settles in my veins and my eyes grow cold. “That is one thing that, just like you, will never fucking change.”

  “Drop dead, Ander!” she cries. “I never should have invited you back here.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” I agree with a shrug. “But you did. And as long as you keep fucking up my life, I can promise you that this will not end well.”

  I glare at her as I stalk over to the mattress on the floor and grab her purse. Finding the zipper already open, I force my hand inside and quickly fish out a bundle of heroin.

  “You’re dumb as fuck if you really think that I’m sharing my shit with you anymore,” she growls, cutting her eyes at me.

  I shrug with indifference and push away the guilt that bubbles underneath the surface as I take in her pathetic form on the floor. “You took from me, so this will suffice as payment for now.”

  “Look at you,” she sneers. “You’re a piece of shit junkie. I did you and Hadley a fucking favor.”

  “That was never your call.”

  “Do us all a favor and go overdose on that shit.” Anya narrows her eyes as she sits up straighter. “I’ll make sure no one brings you back a second time.”

  Laughing lightly, I hold the bundle tightly in my fist. “If anyone’s dying from this shit first, it’s not gonna be me.” Turning my back to her, I walk over to the door and grab the doorknob with my free hand on my way out. “Don’t expect me to bring flowers to your grave,” I call out over my shoulder as I slam the door behind me.

  I stalk back down the hallway and slip inside my room, swiftly pushing the door shut behind me. I’m still in a state of shock, mixed with a touch of rage that continues to boil. I lost control and I put my hands on her when I should have walked the fuck out of that room. Guilt rushes through me, threatening to drown out the rage.

  Turning on the screen to my phone, I scroll and find Hadley’s name and tap on it. Bringing the phone up to my ear, it rings once before going to voicemail. She declined my call. I call her at least a dozen more times before her phone begins to go directly to voicemail. She turned off her phone.

  Dropping down onto my mattress, I toss my phone to the floor and find my supplies to cook the dope. I turn the powder into a liquid as quickly as I can and pull it into the syringe. I can’t face the emotions that course through me at this moment. I can’t even distinguish the difference between them all. All I can do at this point is get high and let the rest drift away into the background.

  Like a seasoned professional, it doesn’t take me long to wrap a makeshift tourniquet around my arm and finally find a viable vein. I slide the beveled tip of the needle under my skin and push down on the plunger, letting the drugs flood my system. My eyes grow heavy as the heroin pulls me under and slips into the d
river’s seat. The guilt and the rage still hang heavily in the air but slowly mix with the chipped paint on the walls.

  I let the heroin take control because it’s something I can no longer feel within my grasp.

  I’ve never truly had any control.

  A loud buzzing sounds in the darkness. It’s so close that I could touch it, but I reach my hand out, feeling nothing. The sound grows louder and rattles inside my skull as it bounces off my eardrums. My arm is heavy as I lift it into the air, swatting at the noise, but the only thing that my hand meets is air.

  I peel my eyelids open and blink against the harshness of the overhead light coming from my ceiling. Blinking rapidly, my eyes adjust to my surroundings as the buzzing noise rings in my head again. Lifting my head from the bare mattress, I wipe the drool away from the side of my face as I glance around my small bedroom. Light from the floor catches my eyes from my phone as it continues to ring.

  Leaning over, I grab it from the floor just as the phone call goes to voicemail. I swipe the screen, unlocking it and find a dozen missed calls. Every single one is from Troy, along with a string of text messages. Ignoring the messages, I tap on his name and drag the phone up to my ear.

  “Where are you?” Troy barks through the speaker. My head swarms from the force of his voice and I wince from the harshness in his tone. “Ander. I don’t know what the hell you did, but you royally fucked up this time.”

  That bitch, reality, slaps me in the face yet again as the past few hours replay in my head. Hadley showing up, the look on her face when she saw me and watching her speed away from me. Anya, in my hands against the wall. The bag of heroin that I injected to wash away all of my feelings.

  Fuck.

  “You gotta fix this, man,” Troy says quietly into the phone.

  I swallow hard over the razor blades in my throat. “How?”

  “I haven’t the slightest clue,” Troy sighs. “But you gotta do something.”

  “I don’t know how to fix this,” I whisper.

  “So, you figure it the fuck out,” he growls through the speaker. “Get a shower and get your shit together, I’m coming to get you.”

  He hangs up without another word, and all of the feelings I fought to drown out are slowly beginning to resurface. Dropping my head back onto the bed, I roll onto my back as my phone falls from my hand and lands on the floor beside the mattress. Troy doesn’t know the details of what happened, but if he knows that something happened then that means he’s seen Hadley.

  He can take me to her, and I need to see her right now.

  I need to fix this.

  Even if Hadley wants nothing to do with me after the fact... I have to fucking fix this.

  23

  Hadley

  Bringing the joint up to my lips, I take a long drag as I stare out over the balcony. Wisps of smoke float through the dry air of the night sky as I exhale slowly. I hang my arms over the railing, swaying slightly as I grab the bottle of vodka from the ledge. The liquor burns my throat as I take three large gulps, not bothering to breathe in between. Taking a deep breath, I glance down at the ground, many stories below and feel the unease settle in my stomach.

  I welcome any feeling right now—anything that will drown out the aching that’s rooted deep inside my chest. As I take another hit of weed, the glass door behind me slides open. Music from inside the apartment carries outside with my visitor, along with the voices of God knows how many people that are crammed inside there.

  “Yo,” Sloane calls out as she slides the door shut behind her. I don’t chance a glance her way, keeping my eyes trained on the horizon as I inhale the smoke. She snatches the joint from me before leaning against the railing beside me. “What are we celebrating?”

  Celebrating?

  A harsh laugh escapes me as I bring the bottle of vodka back to my lips for another swig. Turning to face Sloane, I hand her the liquor as she raises an eyebrow. My top lip curls with disgust and my nostrils flare as I shake my head. “We’re celebrating a new chapter in life.” A wave of nausea rolls in my stomach as I smile with contempt. “Ander’s going to be a daddy.”

  I watch as all of the color drains from her face as it falls. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. My words sink in, nestling themselves deep within her mind and her expression transforms. Her face contorts with her brows drawn together and her lips form into a frown. “Wait, what?”

  Clearing my throat, I catch sight of the joint burning in between her fingers before I take it from her. Turning back around, I glare out into the night sky and my eyes burn as the unshed tears build up. I swallow over the knives lodged in my throat as my vision swims. “Yep,” I whisper, bringing the joint back up to my lips. “He’s living with that girl from the casino and she’s pregnant.”

  “Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. “You went to see him, didn’t you?”

  Avoiding her gaze, I shrug. “I had to, Sloane. I couldn’t let go of him or the ideation of what I thought we had. I owed it to both of us to make sure there wasn’t something there.”

  “And is there?” she asks quietly as her lips touch the rim of the bottle.

  Is there something there?

  Yes.

  There will always be something there.

  “There can’t be.” I glance at her hesitantly as a silent tear falls over the edge. “Not after today.”

  Sloane takes a deep breath and hands me the bottle. Her eyes fill with sympathy as she scans my face. “I know you’re hurting. I can kick everyone out if you don’t want to be around all of these people now. I’ll handle whatever you need me to.”

  Sniffling, I force the rest of my tears away and choke down another mouthful of cheap vodka. “Nah, everything’s good. I plan on doing everything in my power to forget this day even happened, so just let everyone enjoy themselves. Fuck it.”

  She studies me for a moment before a sigh slips from her lips. Her hands grip the railing as she pushes off, slowly backing away and slides open the glass door. “I gotta get my phone and shit quick.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I tell her with a smile. “Go call your man. You don’t have to try and be all secretive about it.”

  Sloane rolls her eyes as she purses her lips with annoyance. Her face cracks and she chuckles lightly as she steps through the doorway. “Do you need anything from inside?”

  I shake my head. “If you see Ryland in there, tell him I’m out here.”

  Sloane’s lips part slightly and her eyes widen. “You didn’t…”

  “Oh, I did.”

  Shaking her head, she tips her head back and laughs. “Girl…” She pauses, focusing on something inside the apartment before she turns back to me. “Speak of the goddamn devil.” Sloane leans away from the door, waving her arm as she calls out his name. She takes a step back as Ryland eases through the doorway and out onto the balcony.

  “Hey Hadley,” Ryland says softly, his gray eyes shine at me as he flashes his pearly white teeth at me.

  Smiling, I glance behind him at Sloane as she closes the door with a wink. “Hey,” I say, looking back at him. “Sorry about the other night.”

  I’m slightly intoxicated. Okay, I’m pretty drunk already and not to mention I’ve been smoking weed since I got home, so I’m fairly blazed too. The words come out in a rush like fucking word vomit.

  “Uh, yeah.” Ryland’s face falters and he laughs nervously as he shifts his weight uncomfortably. “I should have called or something.”

  Leaning forward, I try to hand him the joint and the bottle, but he declines both just as I had expected. That’s how things are with Ryland. He’s predictable and calculated. What you see is what you get and like the good guy he is, you can expect his actions and reactions.

  He’s nothing like Ander and that’s what I like best, but it isn’t what I need. I crave the unpredictability that comes with Ander. Every moment, every breath is a risk.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” I admit, setting the bottle down on t
he ledge as I take a drag off the cigarette. “I fucked up.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have made a move,” Ryland offers softly. “You’re not over him, and that’s fine, but I can’t be pining after someone knowing I’ll never have her whole heart.”

  A lump forms in my throat and my jaw aches as the tears blur my vision. “I’m sorry. If I had a heart to give you, I would.”

  Ryland flashes me his warm smile and his soft eyes search mine. “I know you would, Hadley. It is what it is and there’s nothing either of us can do about it, but I do want to be friends if you’ll at least have me as that.”

  “You sure you want the conductor of the Hot Mess Express as one of your confirmed friends?” I drop the joint from the balcony and pull out a cigarette as Ryland laughs. “I can guarantee you that this shit does not get better with time. I’m no bottle of fine wine.”

  “No, you’re more like a mixed drink.” He winks. “A little sweet, a little sour, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Laughing, I hastily wipe the tears away as they begin to stream down my face. Ryland frowns with a sympathetic look in his soft eyes. My laughter quickly turns into sobs and I’m a fucking mess. My knees buckle and I collapse onto the hard ground in a rush. Dropping my face into my hands, a sob tears through me and my body shakes as I drown in my sorrows.

  My surroundings fade away and the alcohol flowing through my body weighs me down. I hadn’t given myself the chance to process what I found out earlier today. I had never once considered the fact that Ander had moved on. The news about the pregnancy completely blindsided me. It was unexpected. Ander’s lifestyle had always been different from mine and it was obvious how deep he was still in his addiction.

  We were always destined for destruction and every time we were around each other, we obliterated everything and anything in our path.

  I’m completely and utterly consumed by the grief. And because I’m fucking wasted, I’ve lost control, not even realizing that I’m not alone. It isn’t until he’s wrapping his arm around my shoulders that I remember that Ryland just got a front row seat to my drunken meltdown. He pulls me to him, holding me close as another sob rips through my body. Burying my head into his chest, my tears soak my face and his shirt.