Page 7 of Fall onto me

I haven’t given up, I plan on fighting, but I just don’t know how … yet.

Smoke plumes out of the door in a quick escape as I enter, and it never ceases to amaze me just how many people are always here.

Cars hide out in the other warehouse next door, but it still seems impossible as you sift through the masses of bodies that they all don’t just live here.

There are all kinds of people who spend their nights here, but the ones who are addicted are the easiest to spot. You can tell them out from the crowd, the way they sway from room to room looking for their next fix.

Did they start out like me?

With the right headspace but the wrong cards dealt to them?

The dealers are obvious. But it’s not like they have to hide here, with their bags of drugs and money tucked under the bill of a flatback.

It’s a lawless world, and the criminals have grown comfortable.

I squeeze through a cluster of women who pour out of one of the rooms. I assess as I pass the door, rich men playing strip poker with young women, stacks of money covering the tables.

They’re probably from Sky’s old neighborhood, married with children but would rather spend their weeknights here pretending they got stuck at work. I would think I would run into Sky’s dad here, but he’s too methodical to be somewhere like this, although he’d probably be safe considering no one wants the secrets to spill from these walls.

Here I am, judging everyone who walks these halls, when I’m one of them.

It’s like a corporate building, but instead of polished furniture and businessmen, its torn leather chairs, drugs, and deals gone wrong.

This is where people go to sell their soul.

I pass by a room filled with half-naked women, dancing on the laps of greasy, groping men. One touches my chest as she enters, attempting to lure me in.

I may have made a deal with the devil, and I’m no saint, but the last thing I’ll ever do is betray Skyler.

I would bleed out before hurting her. She’s been through so much, and although we made a pact, I imagine how much simpler her life could be if she would leave me.

Leave this fucking town.

Miami is no place for her, not on the bad side of town nor the rich. Both are equally fucked up. The only place that’s okay for her is our secret spot that’s away from the city, where worries drift away with the tide.

I’m too selfish to let her go, but man, sometimes when I think about my situation, and lack of future, I wonder what she could do in her life without me.

I drain out any thoughts of my girl, not wanting the Keeper to somehow read my mind, to know just how much my shadow means to me.

He would use her against me, and he may in the future, but for now she’s safe.

I know what room I’m going to because I’ve been here before. When one of the Keeper’s men stuffed a note under my little sister’s pillow.

Is that what he’s going to make me do? Torment families?

There is one thing I know; he will not make me a murderer.

I may be strung up in his web of lies, but I cannot let it come to that.

The room is dark, and the only source of light comes from a small television sitting on a table. It’s static right now; the droning buzz of it fills the room. I pull out my phone and aim my flashlight into the dark corners, making sure I’m not being set up.

Four sad, paint-chipped walls close me in. The only means of escape is the door I came in from, but of course the small table housing the TV with an old, tattered rug underneath makes me have to turn my back to it.

That’s all there is.

“No one else is here,” a distorted voice calls from the television as I begin to creep around the room. The fuzz has gone away, replaced by something more ominous.

I walk up to the table, tilting my head to get a better view, but from the darkness sits a man at a desk. He’s covered in shadow, concealing his identity.

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