Page 19 of Lost in Life

I stumble down the street, my head filled with Kate’s words.

“If you don’t get your shit together, Zayn, you’re going to end up all alone.”

It’s not the first time we’ve had a fight like this, not even the first time she’s threatened to leave me. But I just can’t seem to stop.

My mind is so distracted, I don’t notice the man in front of me before I barrel into him. Grunting, he whips his head toward me with a glare. “Watch it, asshole.”

My lip curls up as my hands ball into fists at my side. “Fuck off.” I snarl, shoving him out of my way.

A hand lands on my shoulder, yanking me back. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” The brute growls, tightening his hold.

Glaring at him, I yank myself out of his grip, turning and throwing my fist into his face. “I said. Fuck. Off.”

The man watches after me with a mixture of surprise and fury. “You’re going to pay for that!” He shouts.

I ignore him, continuing my path back home. He’s just some asshole, what could he possibly do?

Blinking away the memory, I fight to stay focused. Guilt and anger eating away at me as I continue to watch Carver’s savagery.

If only I had knownthiswas who I had bumped into that night. Maybe I could have done something different. Maybe I wouldn’t have left Kate alone. Maybe I could have stopped him.

It’s all my fault.

My body is shaking with rage, with the need to tear him apart for what he did. For the way hemade me payfor that stupid night.

Wiping off his blade, Carver turns toward the witness to his crimes. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” He gestures to the brutalized corpse lying beside him. The kid gags, shaking his head furiously. “What, you don’t think my artwork is pretty?” Taking a step toward him, Carver laughs when the boy flinches back.

Carver slips a small baggie from his pocket, along with a spoon, lighter, and syringe. Taking a little pill from the small bag, he sets it on top and crushes it into a powder. “You look like a kid who enjoys a good time.” He chuckles, continuing his preparation of the drug.

The boy shakes his head again. “N-no. Not like that.” His body shakes with growing fear, the dark hair on his forehead sticking from sweat.

Carver fills the syringe, walking toward the terrified boy. “Ahhh, don’t be like that.” Snapping his free hand out, he grabs hold of one of the kid’s wrists, twisting to reveal his inner arm.

“Please. Please don’t do this.” The boy sobs, tears and snot running down his face as his gaze remains fixated on the needle, his already pale face draining to a ghostly white. “I-I don’t like needles.”

Smirking down at him, Carver stabs the needle into the crease of the boy’s elbow, pushing down on the injector. “That’s okay, you won’t be liking much of anything anymore.” Dropping the arm, Carver strides past him, unlocking the door and leaving the shop.

I watch as the kid’s eyes roll back and he begins convulsing. I’m not sure what overtakes me, but I find myself pulling my phone out.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

In a daze, I hear myself tell the operator there’s been an overdose. Relaying the info of where we are, I walk up to the boy, crouching next to him as I hang up the phone. “Help is on the way.” I mutter, patting his shoulder and turning him onto his stomach so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit.

Pushing to my feet, I turn and leave, frustration filling me as I’ve lost my moment. Again.

I stare at the man, blinking my eyes repeatedly to clear him from my vision. But no matter how hard I try, he doesn’t disappear.

Fuck. That’s him, that’s really him.

My mind whirls as I try to remember all of my well thought out plans, but I come up blank.

I can’t choke. Not when I’ve finally found him.

Looking around the crowded store, I curse myself for not being prepared. My eyes land on a display across the aisle and some of the tightness in my chest eases. Beelining toward the display, I scan my gaze over the knitting needles until I find a metal pair.

It might not be deadly, but it’ll definitely inflict some serious damage, and if I can get the angle right, it could prove to be more than just damaging.

Snatching the package down, I discreetly tear it open and turn back towardhim. I stalk down the aisle once more, keeping a close eye on Carver to make sure I’m not spotted.

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